Brute Justice (Justice Series) Read Online Free Page A

to install this myself. The fewer people who know about this, the better.
    Dan started to answer, but Sam interrupted him. “No thank you, sir. My friend here is good with electronics – I think we can tackle this ourselves. We’ll call if we run into any trouble.”
    “Okay then. There’s a 24-hour help line, should you need it.”
    “Thanks!” The three men headed out the door, bags in hand.
    They loaded up the back of the SUV, and as they were climbing back in, Dan turned to the kids. “Are you sure we can handle installing all of this ourselves? The sales guy said he could send someone over to take care of it…”
    “Yeah,” Clint said. “It’s an easy install. Plus, I don’t want anyone knowing we bought the equipment and where we live. If Blevins comes in to ask, they won’t have any information to give him.”
    “Good point,” Sam agreed.
    Dan turned onto the freeway to head back towards their side of town, and after about seven minutes, they found the three lanes of traffic were slowing to a crawl. Sam narrowed his eyes to try and see what was going on. The winter nights meant dark fell earlier, so neither Dan nor Clint could see much more than a line of red taillights ahead of them, the bottleneck clearly up ahead a couple hundred yards.
    “What is it?” Clint asked, more in Sam’s direction than the Dan’s.
    Sam was quiet for a minute. “I can smell gas, and hear something metal swinging… Hang on, let me get a closer look.”
    He strained his eyes beyond the glare of taillights as they led uphill to an overpass. “It’s a semi that jackknifed on the overpass. The trailer part is blocking the traffic, and the driver is dangling in the cab over the left side of the bridge!”
    “Is there anyone there to help him?” Clint asked, already reaching for the door handle.
    Sam strained to listen for sirens. “I hear police cars, but they are a few miles away. Dad? Can you get us up there?”
    “I can’t imagine how… Traffic is backed up and stopped. I can’t drive on the shoulder – it’s too narrow, and there are concrete dividers up ahead.”
    “Come on, Sam. Let’s go. We can help.” Clint was already out the door, Sam just a few paces behind him, both in a dead sprint up the shoulder of the freeway.
    “Wait! Guys…” Stunned, Dan could do nothing but throw the SUV in park and follow the boys. When they arrived, there was a mass of people standing in a semi-circle around the truck, a buzz of chatter and alarm filling the night’s air.
    Sam looked down at the truck, turned on its side, skid marks and shreds of metal covering the road. The concrete barrier was broken where the cab pushed through, the front end of the truck perilously dangling on its hinge connecting it to the freight trailer. “Clint, are you still…?”
    “Yes.”
    “Good. We don’t have much time. I can hear the hinge on this thing starting to pull apart. The cab will separate at any moment. I’ll need you to move it back.” He motioned to Clint to pull and twist the rig’s bed as far as he could, lifting the cab high enough so Sam could reach the driver and get him to safety. “Dad, get the crowd back as far as you can.”
    “Sure.” Dan turned and started corralling the people off to a safer, and lower vantage point. He was taken aback when Sam projected into his head: “Thanks Dad. Keep ‘ em moving back. The less they can see, the better.”
    “How much time do we have?” Clint asked, with many meanings behind the question.
    “The police will be here in about two minutes, the cab’s getting ready to drop any second. Let’s do this!”
    Clint reached down and grabbed the end of the semi trailer and lifted it up, gripping the metal edging under the rear doors. His face turned pink with the strain, but he was able to slowly move backward, heavy step by heavy step.
    Sam peered over the edge of the broken bridge, the driver looking up at him through his open window. He could tell the truck was