Fight for Power by Eric Walters Page B

I’ll take. Here, you might as well have these back.” He went to hand me the photos and I hesitated before finally taking the stack.
    â€œIs that the first time you saw those pictures?” he asked.
    I nodded.
    â€œI thought so. I could tell by your reaction.”
    â€œI didn’t know it was that obvious,” I said.
    â€œYou’re not the only one watching. I guess you weren’t there.”
    â€œI was there,” I said. “I saw the bridge come down. I was the first one at the bottom—well, Herb and I.”
    â€œI’m surprised. If you saw the real thing, why did the pictures bother you so much?” he asked.
    â€œI dropped Herb off and then took to the air again to provide cover.”
    â€œSo you’re the pilot of that plane, right?” he asked.
    â€œIt’s my ultralight.”
    â€œI’ve seen you up in the air, right over our base.”
    â€œI’ve flown over it a few times.”
    â€œI was there. I got a shot off, but obviously I missed or we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I guess you being in the air makes it all seem cleaner. From up there you don’t see the faces of the victims.”
    â€œI’ve seen the faces of victims. I was there in the neighborhood that you attacked. I’m never going to forget what happened to our friends at Olde Burnham.”
    â€œAnd you’re telling me you don’t do anything different?”
    â€œWe don’t. We’re just trying to stay alive,” I said.
    â€œThat’s all we were doing, trying to stay alive.”
    â€œNo it isn’t. We mean no harm to anybody who doesn’t try to harm us. We lived in peace with that neighborhood you destroyed, with all those people. We believe that working together we all have a better chance of surviving and—”
    I stopped midsentence as the door opened and a woman appeared. She stood without saying anything, her eyes wild, her hair all askew, her clothing dirty. For a second I thought she was holding a portable drill or something in her hand and then I realized what it was. A pistol.
    â€œI’ve come to kill you,” she said.

 
    5
    I was frozen to my seat, but my mind started to race. Almost involuntarily my hand started to creep toward my gun, holstered at my side. I stopped myself. I couldn’t possibly draw and fire before she did.
    â€œI’ve been waiting for this,” she said. Her voice was calm, but her eyes remained wild. Slowly she pulled up the gun and aimed it at Quinn. I leaned farther back in the chair.
    â€œYou, get away,” she said, gesturing for me to get out of the line of fire. “I don’t mean you any harm. It’s him I came to kill.”
    I stumbled to my feet and staggered a few feet toward a far corner, putting distance between me and him—and her.
    â€œI’ve come to kill the man who killed my family.”
    â€œLook, lady, I didn’t kill anybody,” Quinn pleaded. For somebody who said he wasn’t afraid to die, he looked terrified.
    â€œMaybe it wasn’t you, but you were one of them!” Her voice was still calm. She looked almost peaceful. “Get out,” she said to me. “Go.”
    I took a half step and then stopped. If I left, Quinn was dead. “I’m sorry, I don’t know you,” I said to the woman. “Do you know me?”
    She nodded. “You’re the son of the police chief; you fly that little plane. You’re Adam.”
    â€œThat’s me … I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”
    â€œThat isn’t important.”
    â€œSure it is.”
    She hesitated. “Paula.”
    I extended my hand to shake. “Hey, Paula, I’m pleased to meet you—”
    â€œDon’t come any closer, Adam,” she ordered.
    I drew back my hand. “Take it easy, Paula.”
    â€œI don’t want to hurt you,” she said. “I really don’t