Nails

28 -

Battle in the Courtroom

Matt caught a nondescript shape from the corner of his right eye. By the time he looked toward the balcony he recognized the figure as that of a rangy man with a gun in either hand.

Bright lights and whiffs of smoke accompanied the earsplitting sound of gun fire.

Matt heard the bullets hit their quarry. Some blasted into the wooden railing sending pieces flying against the floor or wall. Others made a sucking sound as they violated supple human bodies.

He also heard screams. The outcry of surprise as the bullets slammed into their victims. The frantic movements accompanied by the heavy thuds as bodies fell to the floor.

How?

The question lingered for a split second. There was no time for reasoning except that the balcony was presumed to be empty.

By him.

It was not.

Shady whimpered and dropped to the floor.

Gun in his right hand, Matt raised it to take aim amidst the flailing bullets, and fired.

Twice.

The killer dropped both guns. They fell over the edge of the balcony to bounce from the back of one wooden bench to the hard wood floor. The man clutched his stomach and stood perfectly still.

Matt was familiar with the expression on the shooter's face. He'd seen it. Often.

It was that space of time when the person realized they'd been shot and that they were dead.

It had to be Heinlein, Matt thought as he watched the man double over and take a swan dive off the balcony. A cracking sound broke through the whimpers of women and the moaning of the men as Heinlein's body came to rest across the back of a bench.

Kitty!

Ignoring Shady, Matt ran to the front of the room.

He couldn't see her.

Duval was still in his chair except that he was slumped, face down, on the table with a growing patch of red streaming from a hole in the back of his head.

Thibideaux sat on the floor, back braced against the wall, embracing his chest with both his bloody hands. A trickle of bright red oozed from the left side of his mouth to make its way down his chin. His breathing, a wetness to it, was sporadic. His eyes, wide open, had a glaze over them.

The lawyers, all four of them, were on the floor along with Ormsby and San Marcos. As far as Matt could tell none of them were hurt.

Graystock, gun drawn and aimed at nothing in particular, met Matt at the railing. In that split second of time Matt made the decision to trust Graystock. He didn't have time to weigh the consequences.

Kitty!

Stuart Haynes was on the floor with blood pouring from a wound in his left shoulder.

Not caring about the injured man, Matt heaved him aside.

Kitty, face down, was lying very still, blood staining the back of the gray blouse.

Sheer black terror swept though him as he knelt beside her and gathered her into his arms and pulled her into the warmth of his body. Rocking gently, he fought to stop the tears that leaked from his eyes and down his cheeks.

"Kitty," he heard his own voice shout.

"Ugh,"

Kitty pushed against Matt's chest and gasped for air.

She opened her eyes, "Matt." Her hands crawled upward and came to rest on his face.

"Kitty," Shady, holding a handkerchief to her bleeding cheek, knelt beside the pair.

Matt ran his hand over Kitty's body feeling where the blood was pooled. Dreading what he might find.

"Matt, I'm not hit. Haynes pushed me down so hard I got the wind knocked out of me. This is his blood, not mine."

Matt didn't let go of her, rocked her even more. Held her tighter.

"I'm so glad to see you, Cowboy," Kitty used a thumb to wipe an errant stream from his cheek.

"Some agent you turned out to be," vonBohning was standing over Matt, Kitty, and Shady, his voice discernibly higher than at the outset of the hearing.

"Duval and Thibideaux are dead," Shady announced. "Come with me, Benson, I need to talk with you." Shady grabbed hold of vonBohning's arm and dragged him away.

"Kitty, Kitty, I've missed you so much."

"I know, Matt. I missed you too."