Quicksilver Dreams(197)

                Silence fell as Rosser looked into Frank’s eyes and saw the coldhearted truth. He looked down at the gun that was pointed directly at his chest, and his anger drained. Terror was born.

                Rosser’s pleading eyes turned to Paul. “You’re going to let him shoot me? All you have to do is tell him where the stuff is!”

                “Dad, do you really think he’s going to let us out of here alive even if we give him what he wants?” Paul shook his head sadly, sorrowfully. “You signed our death warrants. Take a good look around. We’re all dead. Every single one of us.”

                And that included me. That’s when my shivering started. I was truly terrified.

                “I’m out of here,” Jory muttered. “You know where I am.”

                “Until later, Jory, love.” Frank’s icy voice came out softly. Then he turned on Paul. “So where is the mylunate? And let’s be clear that this is the final time I will ask you before I shoot your father.”

                “Pauly! Please! I’m your father!” Rosser’s breathing had become quick and shallow with fear.

                The horror of the moment swamped my senses. Paul was resolved, but waves of shock and scalding pain were clenching his insides. He was remembering a warm, loving time when his mother and father had still been together, and they’d had a lovely beach holiday in some tropical place. He could remember his father chasing him down the sand, letting him get away, but just barely. They were both laughing, enjoying the game. I could feel what this was doing to him viscerally and could only wish for a miracle intervention that wasn’t going to come.

                “What am I supposed to do?” Paul choked on his words. “You want to take money for killing innocent people. Who are you? I don’t know you.”

                “Not me, Pauly! I’m just a go-between guy!”

                “Same difference.”

                “What am I supposed to do?” Rosser shook his head. “I can’t fix it.”

                “It’s too late. For all of us.”

                “Pauly, no!”

                Paul’s look was full of pain, his eyes moving over his father’s face intently, as though trying to memorize the details. “I love you, Dad. I’m sorry. I grew up to be the man you always wanted me to be. I can’t be responsible for innocent people dying. And I don’t think you want me to, either. We’ll see each other again. Soon.”

                He was staring into his father’s eyes as the bullet entered his father’s chest. A soundless scream came as Rosser’s mouth opened in protest and nothing came out. The loud report of the gun seemed to echo in the vast emptiness of the room, and it was like time slowed.

                “No!” My reaction felt delayed. He’d actually shot him! Death was here. Present in the room. He was claiming a soul before my eyes.

                Rosser could only look down at his chest as crimson spread across his white button-up shirt. Then his legs buckled, landing him on his knees, and his face creased into lines of pain. A single deep, guttural sob tore from Paul’s chest. He closed his swollen, purpled eyes with an anguished sound trembling on his lips.

                It had really happened. Rosser was dying and no one was going to help him. This wasn’t a dream to wake up from. Oh, shit! Oh, my God! I gasped for breath after breath, horrified and mesmerized by the sight all at once. Sweat broke out across my face and neck.