Read Online Inside Out by John Ramsey Miller - Free Book Online Page B

commits a few murders for money, gets caught, and turns on his employers. Then, after the trial is over and everybody is in prison, he and his princess relocate to Argentina. Historically speaking, Argentines didn't make moral judgments on things like multiple murder. “I'm sure you'll love living there.”
Maybe Adolph Eichmann's house is vacant. Or you could try the old Mengele place in Paraguay, or was it Bolivia?
    “Your son. What's his name?”
    “Rush.”
    “Winter and Rush are both unusual names.”
    “I suppose.” Winter could have explained the origins of his and Rush's names, but he wasn't being paid to socialize. She said something else but Winter didn't hear it—something had caught his attention. The texture of the beach ahead had been physically altered, slightly churned.
    Winter grabbed Sean's shoulder, planning to press her to the ground where she would be a slimmer target as he flipped off the H&K's safety and put his finger inside the guard. The second he gripped her shoulder, however, she shifted her weight, grabbed his hand off her shoulder, pivoted, and forced her narrow knee straight up into Winter's testicles with perfect accuracy and surprising force.
    His vision filled with brilliant yellow light and fireworks; three distinct booming reports echoed inside his skull. The explosions were real enough. When her knee had struck home, his finger was on the trigger. The gun in his hand had fired a three-shot burst into the air. Without thinking, Winter used his body weight to pin her down. “Freeze!” he snarled as he aimed the barrel at the place where the tracks went up over the dune.
    “Get off me!” Sean yelled.
    “Shots fired!”
Cross's voice called over the radio.
    “What was that?”
Martinez's voice crackled over the radio.
“Winter!”
    Winter keyed the microphone and managed to say, “We've got company.”
    “You under fire, Win?”
Greg's voice demanded.
    “Negative, accidental discharge. But at least two sets of footprints coming in from the ocean. I'm a hundred yards north.”
    Sean stopped trying to wriggle free. Winter growled, “Lie still!” He couldn't regulate his breathing, the pain between his legs was overwhelming. His stomach seemed intent on giving up Jet's gumbo.
    Two figures bolted, sprinting over the dune away from Winter and his charge. He aimed at them, following their flight with the barrel. Both looked like divers in skintight wet suits, carrying bundles in their arms as they fled.
    The security lights mounted in the trees sprang to life, making it high noon on the beach all the way from the house.
    Sean Devlin froze under him like something dead.
    Winter called for the pair to halt, but either they couldn't hear him or didn't plan to stop. He fired a warning burst wide of the running figures, spraying sand. They fell forward, into the shadow of the dunes.
    Martinez was first out the door as three deputies rushed from the house. Cross fell in behind her; Beck bringing up the rear. In the headset Winter heard Greg shout orders for Forsythe and Dixon to stay with the package. As they closed, Winter kept the subjects covered while watching the dunes to his left for a possible third man.
    “Cross, secure my left flank!” Winter shouted into his radio. In the excitement, the initialisms were forgotten.
    Cross turned instantly and went up over the dunes with his M16 before him, his rifle's barrel leading the way. As Martinez approached, Winter signaled her to stop. She dropped to her knees beside him. “You all right?” Her eyes were wide with excitement.
    It was painful to stand.
    Cross's voice came through Winter's ear piece,
“The dunes are clear, Massey. Hold your fire, I'm coming in.”
    “Martinez, get the package home,” Winter told her.
    “I'm really sorry—” Sean began.
    “Get her out of here, now!” Winter snapped as Greg ran toward them from the house. “Greg, can you cover Martinez and P-two—coming your way