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1060 Words
“For starters, it’s older than you are.”
“I know most of the major makes. American and European, Chinese, Russian.”
“It’s not a major one.”
“I know some of the lesser-known models.”
“It wasn’t mass-produced.”
“Limited run?”
“You could say that.”
“How many were made?”
“One.”
When they got to the trailer park, Herbert left the car by the side of the road and they made their way to Kravitz’s trailer on foot. The park had about twenty-five trailers mounted on permanent foundations and was bracketed by thick woods. The cops were ten paces back and on either side of the narrow gravel road that constituted the only ingress and egress.
“If he is the bomber he might have his trailer wired with a booby trap,” noted Anthony.
“That thought had occurred to me.”
“So are we going to just knock on his door, then?”
“We’ll play it by ear.”
Anthony looked put off. “Okay, pleased to see you have the plan all formulated.”
“In a situation like this plans usually are for s**t. You react professionally to what comes at you. That’s the best plan of all.”
The trailer was set off by itself, a small patch of gravel in front. An ancient and battered Chevy pickup was parked in front, its metal corroding, its paint disintegrating. They checked to make sure the truck was empty and then took cover behind it.
Herbert eyed the two cops and motioned with his hand where he wanted them to take up position. When they were in place he called out, “John Kravitz?”
There was no answer.
“John Kravitz? Federal agents. We need you to come out, hands in clear view. Right now.”
Nothing.
Anthony looked at Herbert. The two cops stared at him too.
“What now?” she asked.
“We do it the hard way,” said Herbert.
“Which is?”
Herbert eyed the white tank attached to the front of the trailer. He took out his g*n. “Kravitz, you have five seconds to come out or I’m going to put a round into your propane tank and blow you right to hell.”
“Are you mental?” hissed Anthony.
The two cops looked at Herbert like they were debating whether to arrest him.
“Two seconds, Kravitz,” called out Herbert.
He assumed his firing stance and lined the tank up in his sight.
“Herbert!” said Anthony. “You could blow us all up.”
“One second, Kravitz.”
The door to the trailer opened and Kravitz came out, his hands in the air. He looked like he’d just gotten out of bed. “Don’t shoot,” he said in a pleading voice. “Don’t shoot, I don’t have a g*n. Hell, what do you want with me? I just overslept. Do they send the Feds out for that now?”
Herbert saw the flash of light in the reflection of the trailer window. Immediately realizing what it was, he screamed, “Everyone down! Now!” He grabbed Anthony’s arm and pulled her to the ground. From the corner of his eye he saw the two cops hit the dirt. Kravitz still stood upright looking stunned. Herbert let go of Anthony and whirled around, pointed his g*n at the woods and fired. At the instant he did so a bullet was fired from somewhere deep in the woods. The two shots together sounded like a mini-explosion. Following his lead, Anthony had her g*n out in a second and fired off six rounds from her Walther in the same direction.
The round fired from the woods hit Kravitz squarely in the chest, exiting out the back and smacking into the side of the trailer. Kravitz stood stock-still for about a second, his eyes wide, as though he didn’t even realize he’d been shot. And killed. Then he toppled to the ground. Herbert knew he was dead before he hit the gravel. Long-range rifle ordnance was almost always fatal with a center chest shot.
Before anyone else could move, Herbert was up and sprinting toward the woods. He scanned the tree line and called over his shoulder, “See if he’s still breathing. If he is, do what you can and call an ambulance. Then secure the crime scene and call in backup. Anthony, with me, keep low.”
She raced after him as he entered the woods.
“That was a long-range rifle round,” he called out. “Look for any movement, five hundred yards and out.”
“How’d you even know anyone was out here?”
“Saw the optics signature in the reflection on the trailer window. I had no chance of hitting the sniper with a pistol round. I was just hoping to screw up his shot.”
After several minutes of searching and coming up empty they ran back toward the trailer. On the way there Anthony said, “You probably saved my life.”
“You weren’t the target.”
“But still.”
“You’re welcome.”
When they got back to the trailer Herbert said to the cops, “Anything?”
One cop shook his head. “Dead. We called in backup.”
“Okay, set up roadblocks and search teams along a mile perimeter. It’s probably too late, but we have to try.”
The cop grabbed his radio to do this.
Herbert said to Anthony, “Keep low and follow me.”
They made their way stealthily up to the body. Kravitz was lying on his back, his arms and legs splayed, his eyes open and staring lifeless up at a blue sky. A patch of crimson was on his shirt where the bullet had gone in.
“Single tap,” observed Herbert. “LV.”
“LV?”
“Left ventricle. For torso shots I preferred the aorta myself.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
Herbert didn’t even glance at her; his gaze was skimming over Kravitz. “Working knowledge of the human body is part of any good sniper’s curriculum.”
“Well, I guess we know now that Kravitz was part of the bombing plot.”
- Writer
