“I’m not going to give you the satisfaction,” the wounded Riggs hissed, blood bubbling from his mouth.
“Now that’s not being friendly, old hockey stick.” Countryman’s eyes glinted as he pressed his heel into Riggs’s wound.
“Oh jeez,” Cenine Gilmore said, watching the man who’d intended to kill her writhe and grit his teeth in pain.
“Fuck you, Dieter, I can take whatever you got.”
Countryman stopped grinding his heel onto the top of the man’s shoulder blade where his shot had bored in. The impact had driven Riggs off balance. At that same moment, Countryman had leaped into the room and smashed a lamp across his jaw to further stun him. This allowed him to relive their attacker of his Ingram assault weapon.
Now, pants on over his Woody Woodpecker boxers, he crouched down beside Riggs’s sweating face. The other man was on his back, hogtied with linked lamp cord. “Who sent you? Mace?”
“I don’t need him to give me the blueprint,” Riggs seethed.
“You don’t kill for free.”
Riggs giggled. “You’re out of step, pops.”
“Meaning I answer to a higher power.”
“What’s he going on about?” Cenine Gilmore had stepped closer.
Countryman momentarily glanced back at her. “Who knows with this yahoo?”
“I know what the crow don’t know,” Riggs cackled.
Riggs said, “God is guiding my hand. I answer only to Him.”
Countryman pursed his lips. “I knew you’d go off your nut one day, you squirrel-brained cheesehead.”
“You’re just jealous, as I no longer am concerned with earthly matters.”
“Except putting a hole in me and Cenine,” Countryman answered. He leaned in closer to Riggs’s face. “You hearing the tiny voices in your head, Riggs, ready for the rapture, that it? He backhanded him contemptuously.
The younger woman asked, “What if he dies?”
Countryman huffed. “Nobody’s going to miss him, Cenine. ‘Sides, the shoulder is broken but no bone chips splintered into his neck–sadly, looks like he’ll survive.” He chuckled hollowly.
“Fucking right I will,” Riggs said, suddenly hacking and coughing.
Countryman stood. He could work Riggs over thoroughly, there was a screwdriver in the cabin and some other useful tools. But he was sure he couldn’t do it unfettered, given that his lover, the trophy wife of the dying billionaire, was present. She was nobody’s butterfly, but he knew she wouldn’t allow him to go full tilt on Riggs. And it was all or nothing with this trooper.
“We need to be going, don’t we?” Cenine Gilmore observed.
“Pack light,” Countryman answered.
“What about him?” she asked.
Countryman’s white hair, which had turned this color in his mid-20s, was gray in the moonlight invading the room. “What about him?” He slowly looked from her down at his prisoner. The ashen cast of his features matched the color of his hair. “What do I do with you, Riggs?”