Last Stand

LAST STAND A TOM ROLLINS THRILLER PAUL HEATLEY Published by Inkubator Books www.inkubatorbooks.com Copyright © 2023 by Paul Heatley Paul Heatley has asserted his right to be identified as the author of this work. ISBN (eBook): 978-1-83756-132-2 ISBN (Paperback): 978-1-83756-133-9 LAST STAND is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher. For Aidan CONTENTS Inkubator Books Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 55 Chapter 56 Chapter 57 Chapter 58 Chapter 59 Chapter 60 Chapter 61 Chapter 62 Chapter 63 Chapter 64 Epilogue About the Author Inkubator Newsletter Also by Paul Heatley JOIN THE INKUBATOR MAILING LIST You will be the first to learn about new releases plus the many FREE and discounted Kindle books we offer! bit.ly/3tpZe28 PROLOGUE It’s dangerous alone on the streets. As a woman, a black woman, alone and homeless, the streets of Santa Fe feel extra dangerous, especially at night. Day time is bad enough, but the day at least provides some semblance of security. The light keeps the worst of the threats at bay. In the day, so long as she stays close enough to others, to civilisation, it keeps the savages away. Those who would beat her, kill her, rape her. Come the night, that’s when the danger increases. Civilisation recedes. It sleeps. The savages are free to play. For Rhonda, that’s why she got with Jim. At first, it was convenience. He could keep her safe. Then it grew into something more. Grew so that she actually cared for him. It became a relationship, and not just of convenience. He cares for her, too. Tonight, though, they’re not together. They haven’t seen each other in a couple of days. This isn’t uncommon. Right now, Rhonda wishes she had a way to get in touch with him. She’s being followed. She’s sure of it. The feeling began earlier today. On the street, she’s become attuned to her paranoia. If she feels like she’s being watched, it’s usually for a reason. If she feels like she’s being followed, likewise. She’s felt both today. And, more than that, she’s caught glimpses. The same two faces, over and over, at a distance, but there too often for her to be comfortable with, until she became certain it wasn’t just coincidence. Everywhere she went, there they were. Every time she thought she’d managed to slip them, they’d turn back up. There’s nothing distinct about them. They just look like regular guys. Both of them white, one of them with a shaved head and the other with dark hair looking in need of a cut. The bald one has a beard and the other is clean shaven. They wear jeans and shirts. The bald guy wears a denim jacket and the other wears a bomber. They don’t look like cops. Which means they could be any number of other things. It’s late, now. It’s dark. Rhonda is tired. She hasn’t stopped moving all day. She’s hungry, too. She hasn’t had a chance to get anything to eat, to stop and search for something, or hold out her hand on a street corner. Now she just wants to rest. She tries to find somewhere she can hunker down for the night, hide out from her two pursuers. She wishes Jim were here. Tomorrow, she’ll have to find him. Even if the two men are still following her – especially if the two men are still following her – she’ll have to somehow find Jim. She stays where it’s built up, moving between the Pueblo buildings. She hasn’t seen either of the men in an hour now. She remains vigilant. Peers around every corner before she steps out. As a rule, she tries to stay away from crowded areas when it’s dark, even though they tend to be better lit. Tries to give the nightclubs and restaurants a wide berth, as she knows from experience the wrong kind of crowd leaving those kinds of establishments can be dangerous to her. A group of horny frat boys looking for trouble could emerge, or some drunken businessmen who aren’t ready to end the night just yet. Tonight, though, she’s thinking about making an exception. Taking a chance on either of those groups doesn’t feel as risky as the two men who have been following her all day. No one follows for so long without having bad intentions. She heads for Grant Avenue, and she’ll make her way from there. Keeps her head on a swivel as she goes, looking around, checking her back. She thinks about how Jim would say she was ‘watching her six’. She needs him to watch her six right now. To watch her whole damn clock. It’s quiet. She feels all alone in the city. It wouldn’t have to be Jim – she’d settle for any familiar face, or any homeless stranger who would understand the position she’s in and offer her shelter. She can’t see anyone. No one at all. Until she turns, and she does see a familiar face, but it’s not one she wants. It’s the bald guy. He spots her, and this time he doesn’t keep