Abel Baker Charley Read Online Free Page B

no more time.”
    The big man turned his knife again so that the cutting edge rested on the underside of the woman's breast. “How about one piece at a time? How about if I cut off one of her tits for you, you want her so much.” Sumo tightened his forearm viciously across her throat as he said this. The woman went limp against him.
    Once again, Baker studied the woman. Her breathing was slow and labored. She would see nothing.
    “Abel,” he said.
    The man in the gray raincoat watched a second time. He watched across the sight of his pistol until it began to shake. He was trembling almost to the point of spasm. Biaggi pressed the gun flat against the grass with both hands, and he heard this different Baker say, “Recess is ove r pig”
    Sumo went white. Making animal grunts, he staggered backward to his feet. The woman's torso fell heavily to the ground. Off balance, he whipped the knife cross-handed toward Baker's body. The knife spun once and hit. It stuck, he realized hysterically. He could see it dangling from the flesh of the man's hip below his open jacket. In almost joy ful relief, he realized that the man was crippled. And he had no knife. Not even the thing he used on Jace. He could take this man, he realized. H e could rip the arms off almost any one who fought him barehanded. Then he'd pull the knife out of this fucker's hip and cut off his pecker with it and leave it in his mouth. Jace would like that. That would make Jace feel better except. . . except. . . Something felt wrong with his face ... so fast. . . something hit his face ... all numb and wet, and he was falling backward against a rock and someone was holding him . . . turning him around and . . . ooohhhh, he heard a faraway scream when the kid neys on both sides exploded inside of him and... my ass ... what's the matter with my ass ... Sumo fainted.
    Biaggi could not stop the shaking that had spread across his shoulders and down his back. It was all he could do to keep his breathing soft enough to blend with the sounds of the park. He watched through blades of grass as Baker stripped off his jacket and wrapped it, indifferently, he thought, ar ound the body of the unconscious woman, then lifted her onto one shoulder with astonishing ease. With his free hand, he knelt to gather bits of cloth and then, without pausing, stepped fluidly across a low stone wall as if he carried no burden at all. Biaggi put away his gun and fumbled for the radio on his belt.
    “Harrigan,” he whispered as he fed out his antenna. He did not bother with a call signal. “Harrigan, come in. Come in.”
    “Got you” came the broken voice from the box. “Where ... hell are you?”
    “He's headed your way from near the zoo,” Biaggi panted. “There's trouble here. Park muggers. This guy Baker took them both out with ease. Except I think one of them knew him. And he's got a woman with him.”
    “What was ... damned thing? Say again.”
    “He's coming your way. He just ripped the shit out of a couple of punks.”
    ”. . . can't get ... stay on him. You read?”
    “I'm on him. Out.”
    Biaggi collapsed his radio as he pushed to his feet. He moved several steps in the direction Baker had taken and then hesitated, glancing toward the shape of the one called Jace. Baker would keep, he decided, for the few seconds it would take to see if these two were alive. He'd be slowed by the weight of the woman, and he could only be heading south to the exit nearest his hotel, where Connor Harrigan was waiting.
    He knelt at Jace's side and bent over the ruined face but chose not to look at it. The gurgling, mewing sounds it made were enough. He stripped off Jace's watch and patted for his wallet. Both of these he dropped into his raincoat pocket. Al most as an afterthought, he placed his fingertips on the carotid artery of the unconscious man. Jace could live. Given attention, the bum could live. Biaggi stood and walked the fifteen yards to where the big one lay draped over the