Chapter 69 fourth quarter

"Have you searched for them?" asked a gruff voice. "Searched the house." "Search again." "But we've captured all their weapons." "Let me tell you, search again, I don't want any more accidents to happen." Decker was still dazed.He felt a few hands groping about him, and then he was pushed over, and there was another groping.His damaged eyesight was beginning to recover, but his ears were still ringing painfully, so that the sounds he heard seemed to be coming from far away. "There's nothing on him," said another gruff voice.

"The same goes for the others." "Okay," said the first voice.As he spoke, his throat seemed to be filled with gravel. "Time to wake them up and ask questions, hi." The truck wobbled to one side, probably turning a corner.The sound of the car engine grew louder.Decker felt the car pick up speed. "Hi," the husky voice repeated. Decker felt something move around him. "Yes, you, I'm talking to you." Decker closed his eyelids, then opened them again, blinking, feeling better.The bright spots in his vision began to disappear, replaced by the flash of oncoming car lights through the windshield, the endless stream of car lights.This is traffic on the highway.Decker looked, yes, he was in a truck.There were no seats at the back of the car he was in, and three men with guns crouched facing him at the far end of the car, and beyond that were the driver and a man in the passenger seat.The man was turning his head and staring back.

"Yes, you." The hoarse voice repeated.The man was sandwiched between the two shooters.He was a big, solid man with thick black hair and a sallow, almost olive complexion.He is about 30 years old, wearing a pair of high-end shoes, a pair of well-fitting slacks, a fashion shirt, and an exquisite windbreaker, all of which are dark colors.Decker noticed that the other people in the car were also dressed like him. The man leaned forward, gun in hand, and briefly touched the man lying beside Decker.Decker took a look and saw it was someone he thought was Dale Hawkins. "You, for Christ's sake," said the man, "sit up and listen."

Hawkins was dizzy, sat up with difficulty, and leaned against the side of the carriage. Although Decker's ears were still ringing painfully, his eardrums felt much better.He could hear the driver complaining. "Another one! Gosh, these guys are crazy. How do they drive? Are they all drunk? They think it's Indianapolis. They keep going diagonally in front of me. If I Get any closer and they'll make my front bumper a souvenir." The ringleader ignored the driver's complaints and kept staring at Hawkins to Decker's left.Hal, on Decker's right, also slowly sat up.

"So here's the thing," said the big guy, "we know Decker doesn't know where the woman is, otherwise he wouldn't be running around looking for her. But he sure thinks you know where she is ’” The man pointed sharply at Hawkins. "Otherwise, he wouldn't have traveled all the way from Santa Fe to Albuquerque, broken into your house, and waited for you to come home and question you." Adrenaline surged through Decker, choking him.It all happened so fast.Yet even though Decker was caught with neither a fight nor a chance to escape, and was dazed and nauseated, he managed to keep his composure and pay as much attention to anything he could notice. detail.

He had always been fascinated by the man's dark eyes, thick features, and tawny skin.It was Italian, he thought with great certainty, and this gang was all Italian, just like the gang last night.Rome.All of this has something to do with what happened in Rome.He thought, and couldn't help shivering.But how could this be? "In a nutshell," the Boss said to Hawkins, "tell me what Decker wants you to tell him?" Another car cut in front of this car again, and the driver turned the steering wheel sharply and cursed. "Where is Diana Scolari?" asked the little boss.

For a moment, Decker really thought there was something wrong with his injured eardrum and he had misheard the words.Beth Dwyer, that must be the name the man asked, where is Beth Dwyer?But the opening and closing of his lips did not match Beth's name.Diana Scolari, that was the name he said.But who is Diana Scolari? "I don't know," Hawkins said.His face was gray with fear.His words were forced out, as if his mouth was dry. "I don't know where she is." The little boss shook his head in disappointment. "I told you, I don't want to make it difficult for you. I ask you questions, and you should give me the answers I need. Be honest, and I don't have to bother you."

He grabbed a tire iron, lifted it up, and slammed it hard on Hawkins' shin. Hawkins screamed and hugged his legs. "You'll be fine if you do what I tell you," said the little boss, "but you won't cooperate. You really think I'll believe you, a federal court marshal—" He raised Hawking coat of arms. "—sent to find out if Diana Scolari has made her home in Santa Fe, and I don't know where she's gone?" He slammed the tire iron next to Hawkins' other leg, and Trembling, Hawkins flinched back. "You think I'm that stupid?" Hawkins was dry-mouthed, but he insisted: "I'm not alone, we have a group. We take turns contacting her, and no one will always know her whereabouts. Since the first of last month, I haven't met her."

The big guy slammed the iron on the metal floor again. "But you know she ran away today." "Yes." Hawkins swallowed with difficulty. Boom!The tire iron hit the floor again. "That means you're in touch with the rest of your group. Do you think I'm going to believe that the rest of your group didn't tell you where they hid her?" "It's only reported on a need-to-know basis. They told me I didn't need to know." Hawkins' voice sounded as rough as sandpaper. "Oh, is that so? That's too bad for you. Because if you don't know anything, you're useless, and maybe I'll kill you." The little boss pointed the gun at Hal again. "I know who Decker is, but who are you?"

"A little man." "Then what use are you for?" The little boss's gun was equipped with a silencer.The gunshot sounded like a hand clapping on a pillow. Hal fell backwards, motionless. Decker's heart was beating wildly. The car suddenly fell silent, and the roar of the traffic outside became louder.The driver swerved to avoid a car that was changing lanes without signaling. "I can't believe these idiots. They think it's a car race. They're out of their minds." The big man still ignored the driver's complaints, still staring at Hawkins viciously. "Now I've got your attention? One goes down, and Decker is next. After that, guess whose turn it is?"

"You're going to kill me anyway," Hawkins said. "Why should I tell you?" "Hey, if you'll cooperate, we'll tie you up and stuff you in a shack anywhere. We just need you to be silent until Monday. After that, it doesn't matter." "How do I know if I can trust you?" "Look at this face, does it seem to be lying to you?" "What's going to happen on Monday?" Decker asked.He remembered Beth's plan to fly back East on Sunday. "Did I tell you to cut in?" snapped the big man. Decker shook his head. "You're on my list," the shooter said, "if it wasn't for you, we'd have caught that bitch last night, and we'd be back in Jersey by now, and the boss wouldn't have done it because of you." This afternoon we let her run off again and throw a tantrum at us so we don't have to drag you two around goddamn Albuquerque on Saturday night." The mention of New Jersey made Decker's heart burn even more.He knew full well that the gunman would not divulge any specific details to them unless he intended to kill Decker and Hawkins, although he said he would not. The gunman held the gun to Hawkins' forehead. "Maybe you haven't recognized the situation, maybe you haven't realized what my boss is going to do with me if I can't fix this problem." "Hey," Hawkins said, "listen to me, I don't know what you want me to tell you. I was sent from Philadelphia to Albuquerque at the end of August, and Diana Scolari was my executive in the area. The first assignment. Other law enforcement officers are already involved in this matter, they only know the bottom line, and I am not part of the circle at all." It immediately occurred to Decker that perhaps he could manage to delay his own death. "I know her better than Hawkins." The gunman turned his gun and pointed it at Decker's face. "Didn't I tell you not to interrupt?" Decker nodded. "If you know her so fucking well, why don't you know where she's gone? We got orders to follow you. After you guys left your house and went to the FBI, Rudy put the homing device in It's under the rear bumper of your friend's rental car, the one you drove into Albuquerque tonight. We've been following you. Obviously, you've been looking for her everywhere." Decker didn't respond. "Speak!" the gunman yelled. "If I knew exactly what was going on, I might be able to recall what she said, and what she said inadvertently might give her away," Decker said. "You are really kind, so tell me." "Then you'll have to let me out alive. Hey, I hate her as much as you do," Decker said. "Dude, I don't believe it." The car swerved to the side again. "She lied to me," Decker said. "Diana Scolari? She told me her name was Beth Dwyer, her husband died of cancer in January, and she came to Santa Fe to Start a new life." "Oh, her husband did die," the shooter said angrily, "but not from cancer, she blew his brains out." Decker was dumbfounded. "What did you say?" "Her marksmanship is better than mine. It's not surprising that Joey taught her." Joey?Decker thought to himself.He wanted to ask who Joey was, but he didn't dare. He had to act like he was giving information rather than asking for it. "Also, did she tell you why she could afford that house?" the shooter asked. "With her husband's life insurance money." The shooter let out an angry laugh. "Yes, Joey has a life insurance policy, that's right. It's full of $100 bills, divided into bags and kept in his safe at home. There are more than two million dollars. She opened his head Spend the money and take all the money away." The car suddenly turned to the side, and everyone in the car shook. "Hi!" the gunman turned to the driver angrily. "If you can't handle this thing, let Frank drive." "Didn't I tell you," said the man behind the wheel, "I've never seen anyone drive like that. It's all these big-tonnage trucks, and they slam right into the front of my car like they're playing game to see how close they could get without hitting me. It really turned the Long Island Freeway into a country drive." "Do what you're told to do. I hate making a mess of things, and this job sucks. Really sucks." When the gunman turned back to face Decker, Decker felt a slight movement beside him, but he showed no surprise.The movement was on his right, and it was Hal. Under the cover of the shadow behind the car, Hal pressed a finger on Decker's outer ankle, indicating that he was not killed.Hal's only purpose, Decker thought, was to remind Decker of what he might be up to. The shooter pointed the pistol at Decker. "Well then, honey, I'm a reasonable man." One of his accomplices snickered. "Hey, really," the shooter said, "just trust me. I have a proposal, and maybe you think, this law enforcement officer can further confirm your suspicions. I'll give you 30 seconds to tell me about her whereabouts." Provide your best guess. Do your best, because if you can't get past me, you're screwed. Maybe then the lawman will realize how serious I am." Sweat trickled down Decker's face. "She told me she was going back to New York on Sunday." "Of course. She's testifying on Monday. Twenty-five seconds." "Then you'll know where to stop her—on her way to testify." "Decker, she's been nearly killed twice, and those guys in the FBI don't dare take the risk of asking her to show up again. They're going to protect her like they protect the president. Find her when you can. 20 seconds." Decker was distraught.He thought, I have to do something, I can't just let him kill me, I have to— At this moment, a suppressed scream came from the gunman's windbreaker, it was a mobile phone.Decker's reaction tensed. Grumbling under his breath, the gunman pulled out a thin phone and pressed a button. "Hey, who's there?" the gunman listened. "Damn, Nick's going to be pissed off. We didn't get her again, the police radio said, and she ran off before the house exploded. We're trying to find her... you? Did she go to your place? You're taking her Where? Well, I will.. It's almost done. Have you called Nick? Will he be satisfied? I'll tell you the truth, I'm really nervous.. We'll catch the first flight Go back. Right now I'm talking to an old buddy of yours, and I want to ask him if he has any last words. Do you have anything to pass on? . . . okay." The shooter grinned and handed the phone to De Kerr. Decker answered the phone bewilderedly. "……Hey?" He hadn't heard the voice on the other end of the line for over a year, but he recognized the dark tone immediately. "Decker, I wish I could go out there and see what happened to you." "McKittrick?" "You ruined my life," said the voice. "listen to me." "You ruined my future." "No, that's not true. You tell this gang to bring me to you, we need to meet, we need to talk about this," Decker said. "My dad would be proud of me." "McKittrick, I need to know about Beth." "But you want to intervene, you want to prove how smart you are." "Where is she?" "You want to take all the credit for yourself." "Why did she run away with you? What have you done to her?" "It's nothing compared to what I'm going to do to her. And what those people are going to do to you—I want them to take it slow." "McKittrick!" "Who the fuck is smarter now?" Decker heard a click, the phone disconnected, and there was a dial tone.He slowly put down the phone in desperation. The shooter was still grinning. "Before I handed you the phone, your old buddy asked me to tell you: 'Goodbye, Rome.'" He laughed and raised his pistol. "How far did I count? 15 seconds? 10 seconds? Oh, to hell with it." But just as the shooter's fingers were about to pull the trigger, Hal jumped up with all his might.Although he was wounded, he flew up and kicked the muzzle of the gun.There was a muffled sound from the pistol, and a bullet flew out through the roof of the car. Decker slammed the phone between the shooter's eyes, then lunged for the gun.The big guy was hit by him, lost his center of gravity, hit the man sitting on one side of him, bounced back and fell on the man on the other side.In the narrow space of the carriage, bodies collided violently with each other. "What happened behind?" The driver glanced back at the chaotic scene.The car shook violently. Several people in the carriage wrestled together.Decker kicked one of the shooters in the stomach, then reached for the larger man's gun.At this time, there was another person beside him who was also struggling to resist, it was Hawkins.The law enforcement officer punched one of the shooters in the face.Immediately rushed to snatch the gun in his hand.The shooter in front in the passenger seat started climbing over the low partition to get back.The big man fired again, and the bullet went out of the hood again.Decker pushed hard, and everyone fell forward, and the impact of their bodies knocked the shooter in front back into the passenger seat.These few people struggled, and their bodies rushed forward again.They knocked over the barrier and fell on the front of the car, squeezing the driver against the steering wheel. "No!" the driver screamed as the car crashed into the back of a pickup truck, slamming on the brakes and trying to slam the steering wheel to avoid another collision with the truck.But the writhing and struggling bodies of those people pressed him firmly on the steering wheel, and he couldn't move the steering wheel at all.The car lost control, and the driver could only watch in horror as the car sprinted into the side lane, crashed into the body of a car, tipped over to the right, slid forward, and missed another car Passed, then sprinted crookedly towards the edge of the highway, knocked down the protective roller, rushed over the guardrail, rolled several times, and finally stopped.The windshield was smashed, and the people in the car were dizzy and wanted to vomit. Decker was thrown out of breath.He lay quietly among the scrambled and motionless people, only feeling dizzy, and everything in front of him seemed double.He wondered why what he saw when he opened his eyes was not the roof but the left side of the car.Then he realized the car had flipped over and the left side had become a roof.Time seemed to stand still.He recovered from the shock and time resumed passing.He smelled gasoline, and fear urged him to act.The smell of gasoline was so strong that it was choking.Oh my God, he thought, the gas tank must have cracked. He groped and moved forward, and lifted off a human body that was pressing on him.Fear urged him.The constant flow of car lights on the highway shone in through the smashed windshield.Hal, I have to find Hal, and I have to find Hawkins.With a start, he realized that the man he had pushed away from him was Hawkins.Hawkins' glazed eyes, and the odd position of his head, made it clear that his neck was broken.Hal!where is heOne of the gunmen groaned.When Decker looked for Hal, he had already clearly realized that the two front doors were blocked by human bodies, and the car was tilted to one side.Surrounded by the strong smell of gasoline, Decker felt trapped.He prayed secretly that the back door wasn't jammed. Another gunman groaned, another raised an arm feebly.Decker groped his way to the back of the car on hands and knees and caught sight of Hal.In the light of the headlights that shone through the shattered windshield, he saw Hal's mouth open, blood dripping out. His eyes were open too, but their luster had faded.But maybe he was just knocked unconscious!Maybe he's not dead!Decker fumbled fumblingly for his pulse, but was unsuccessful. One of the gunmen regained a little strength and cursed.Meanwhile, Decker smells something other than gasoline, smoke.The car was filled with smoke, choking Decker coughing.He realized that the car was about to explode.He hurried to the back door of the car.This rapid movement caused the body to lean backwards.Why is that?What is the body resting on?He came to the back door.Since the car is tilted to one side, the doors are horizontal.He grasped the latch at the bottom of the carriage and twisted it hard. The door moved. He breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God, the rear door was not jammed. He pushed the door at the bottom of the carriage and moved over it. tilt.Suddenly, the soles of his feet slid down.In a panic, he grabbed the edge of the back door and nearly fell toward the headlights of cars streaming beneath him. He couldn't help gasping.He understood that the car must have crashed into a guardrail on a section of the highway that was being repaired.This section of road is on a viaduct.The rear end of the car jutted into the air, hanging precariously from a bridge with no side rails.He hangs himself in mid-air, with oncoming traffic whizzing by below him on a busy underpass.If he let go, he would fall 20 feet to the road below him, possibly breaking his leg.It doesn't matter if it hurts a little, the point is that he will be hit by a car and die immediately. He struggled and struggled to climb up.But with every sway of his body, the car was bouncing up and down, threatening to tip over entirely and smash him into the driveway below, crushing him.His heart was beating so violently that it made him nauseous.Instead of crawling into the overturned car in a panic, he hangs motionless on the rear door that opens horizontally, wondering if he can reach the bottom of the rear of the car, grab the edge of the bridge, and make his way along the bridge Move, crawl all the way to the side.Below him, a piece of fallen debris blocked a driveway.Cars in the blocked lane honked and swerved between cars in the clear lane.At this moment, a voice came from above Decker's head, he couldn't help shrinking back, and the car body shook up and down again. At this time, someone crawled towards the rear of the car, and the sound just now turned out to be that person's panting.The big man who was interrogating Decker was looking down dazedly, his face covered in blood.Apparently, he wasn't fully awake yet.Seeing the headlights of the speeding cars below, he froze for a moment.Then he saw Decker hanging outside the open rear door, and his sanity came back.He fumbled at his clothes, apparently looking for a gun.Then he remembered that the gun had just been thrown away.He turned and headed into the car, which shook again. boom!A bright flash illuminated the front of the car. It was fire, Decker thought. The gasoline had ignited. At any moment the gas tank might explode and the car would be blown to pieces in the flames.The big man quickly reappeared, and the rapidly spreading fire rolled after him.In panic, he began to climb up the open door, then seemed to realize that the door would not bear the weight of Decker and himself.Screaming, he raised a pistol he had picked up and aimed it at Decker. No choice, Decker thought.He looked down, saw a transport truck passing under him, and let go, plummeting the moment the big man shot him.At the same time, the fuel tank exploded, engulfing the massive man in flames.Now, Decker's full attention was on the speeding delivery truck beneath him.The truck driver had to slow down as he was skirting the wreckage in the lane and into traffic in the adjacent lane.Decker gasped for breath and slammed into the roof of the 16-wheeler.He tucks his legs up instinctively, a way he learned in skydiving school.If he hadn't rolled on the spot, if he had stayed upright, he would have been hit hard on the head and chest.Decker rolled a few times, using the force of his fall and the momentum of the truck to keep his hands firmly on the roof of the truck, trying to grab a gap, a protrusion, or anything that would stop him from sliding.The rumbling of the car through the dark bridge hole made him feel dizzy even more.He felt his legs slide off the back of the truck.He vaguely felt a body covered in flames fall from the bridge behind him and hit the road.More car horns beeped, followed by the continuous clatter of cars.But all Decker's attention was on his knees, legs, and chest, and all he cared about was the speed with which he slid toward the back of the truck.His fingers were digging hard at the roof of the car, and he felt his body was about to fly into the air, imagining the scene where he fell on the highway and the car behind him slammed into him with the pressure of the top... His The hand grasped the top edge of the truck's back door, but the left slipped right away.He grabbed it desperately with his right hand, and then stretched out his left hand to grab the back door again.His knee was pressed against the middle of the back door, the sole of his left foot on the wide doorknob. After driving out of the bridge hole, the truck picked up speed.Decker heard a loud explosion behind him.You don't have to look at him to know what's going on.The flaming wreckage of the car cascaded under the bridge and onto the still-passing lanes of the highway.The sound of horns, metal on metal, and glass shattering all came together. The truck slowed and the driver swerved onto a repair lane.He must have seen the flames and explosions in the driveway behind him in the side view mirror.He stopped the car slowly, wanting to see what happened.As the truck slowed, Decker's grip tightened.And just as the truck was about to stop, Decker let go of his hands and fell to the gravel on the side of the highway.Just before the driver could get to the back of the truck to view the horrific sight behind him, Decker leaped over the guardrail of the highway and disappeared into the darkness of an old nearby garage. "Drive me to Santa Fe and I'll pay you." Decker is now outside a convenience store that doubles as a gas station.Under the blinding arc lights, he was speaking to three street jerks who were about to get back to the car.They were driving a bright red Ford, low and with dark glass.There were two cases of 12-packs of beer in the car. "Man, we're busy," one of the boys said. "Fu, we're having a party," said the second boy. "Yeah, we're going for a drive and a party," said the third boy. The three of them snickered at the same time. "I'm willing to give $100 to Santa Fe, and you can use that money to have a better party," Decker said. The three boys stared at him. "$100?" the first boy asked. "You heard me." "Not enough," said the second boy. "How much is enough?" "$200," said the third boy. They snickered again. "Okay," Decker said. The eyes of the three boys widened even further. "Hey, what happened to you?" the first boy asked. "I had an accident." "You look more like you got into a fight," said the second boy. "And it seems defeated," said the third boy. They were rocking back and forth laughing. "Get out the money and let's see," said the first boy. Decker showed them his cash, which he had withdrawn from the bank's ATM before he left Santa Fe that day. "So, are you going to send me or not?" "Oh, send, we will send you, no problem," said the second boy. But about halfway to Santa Fe, they turned off the Interstate and onto a dark side road. "What is this for?" "detour." "Cut a shortcut." "Stop and rest." They couldn't help giggling and showed their knives at the same time. "Get the money out, man," said the first boy. "Not just the $200," the second boy added. "All your money," ordered the third boy. "You guys couldn't have picked a better time to grab your money," Decker said. He broke their arms, legs, and jaws, and threw the unconscious boys into the black desert.Then he hopped in the car, started the engine, and let the car roar back onto the interstate, heading toward Santa Fe.