Irish Throwdown (What Happens In Vegas Book 4) by Matt Lincoln (motivational novels TXT) 📗

an inch, and I kept my eyes fixed steadfastly on Howard as he continued his rant.

“I don’t understand,” Nelson replied slowly.

“I skip work all the time,” Howard laughed bitterly. “Sometimes, I’m just too strung out to haul myself out of my apartment. I was so scared the first time it happened. I was certain I was going to be reprimanded for failing to show up without warning. Imagine my surprise when no one said anything about it the next day. Not even Wallace.”

His words were laced with anger, but there was an undeniable sadness there as well. Despite his violent behavior toward me just a moment ago, I couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him, as well as guilt. Had I really not noticed him missing all those times he just didn’t show up for work?

“I’m so sorry, Howard,” I mumbled. He turned to look at me as I spoke, then gritted his teeth and glared at me venomously.

“There you go again,” he spat. “Looking at me with pity. I don’t need your pity! You’re just another desk-jockey like me, so what the hell makes you so special?”

He took a single, aggressive stride toward me, and that was all the provocation Nelson needed to bring his gun up fluidly.

“Don’t!” I shouted reflexively.

It was clear Howard wasn’t in his right mind at the moment. Regardless of what he’d done, Howard was still a part of our team, and I couldn’t just let Nelson kill him. Howard, however, only became more enraged at my concern and charged at us.

I screamed as the bullet tore out Nelson’s gun. The accompanying bang seemed to reverberate around the office, and it rang gratingly in my ears. Howard fell to the ground as Nelson’s well-aimed shot pierced through his thigh.

The relief I felt at realizing that Nelson had only shot him in the leg was short-lived. Just a moment after falling to the ground, Howard was already clambering back onto his feet.

“What the…” I heard Nelson mutter in disbelief. I glanced over at him, and, suddenly, everything seemed to be moving in slow motion.

Whatever Howard was on was powerful enough to numb the pain of a gunshot. Any second now, he was going to charge at us again. Nelson had a bad leg and couldn’t run. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that if I didn’t do something now, Nelson was going to shoot Howard dead.

“Come on, Nelson,” I hissed urgently as I threw his arm over my shoulders so he could support himself against me as he walked. His office door was just a few feet behind us, and if we moved fast, we might be able to slip inside before Howard regained his footing.

We had just made it to the threshold when I heard Howard roar with anger behind us. I turned just in time to see him charging at us once again. I shoved Nelson with as much force as I could into the office and rushed in behind him. I turned to slam the door shut, but Howard was already there. He wedged his arm through the small gap in the door and attempted to force it open.

I pressed my entire body weight against the door. Adrenaline was numbing the pain in my arms and collarbone, but I could still feel a dull thrum of pain that I knew would be agonizing later.

I brought my elbow down hard against Howard’s arm in an attempt to get him to let go, but it was in vain. Howard wasn’t feeling anything right now.

“I’m sorry, Agent Howard,” Nelson said as he stumbled up to the small gap in the door. For a moment, my blood ran cold as I was gripped with the fear that Nelson was about to shoot him. An instant later, though, those fears were abated as Nelson thrust one of his canes through the small gap. I heard Howard cry out in pain, and a moment later, the door slammed shut as he pulled his arm away.

I wasted no time in clicking the locks shut securely.

“Open the door!” Howard yelled as he pounded forcefully against the wood.

“What did you do?” I gasped as I struggled to regain my breath. I kept my back planted firmly against the door as I lowered myself onto the ground.

“Jabbed him in the eye,” Nelson said as he slid down against the door and onto the floor next to me. “Even if his pain receptors are numbed, there’s no way he’s going to ignore something hitting him in the eye. He pulled his hands up to his face instinctively.”

“That was smart,” I complimented him as I tentatively reached my left hand up to touch the part of my collarbone that was currently throbbing with pain. It was hot to the touch and felt swollen.

“It was a gamble,” he replied. “Try not to move around too much. It looks like your clavicle might be broken.”

“I need to call someone,” I replied as I slipped my phone out of my pocket. My earlier suspicion had been correct. Now that I was cooling down, the pain from Howard’s attack was becoming nearly unbearable.

I dialed nine-one-one but stopped myself just short of pressing the call button. I’d gone out of my way to prevent Nelson from killing Howard. If I called the cops, there was a good chance they would just shoot him right away. I needed to call someone else.

I did my best to keep my breathing slow and even as I made the call.

“Hey, what’s up?” Miranda’s cheery voice answered right away.

“Miranda,” I gasped, unable to keep my voice steady against the pain. “I need help. Something’s really wrong. Come back to the office fast!”

I could hear Howard screaming incoherently just outside as he pounded furiously on the door. I hoped Miranda and Naomi would get back soon.

17

Charlie

I could hear the passengers on the first level screaming below us as the tram sped through the streets of Dublin. It was clear that the busjacker was