Second Shot

Simone let go of the top of the door and pushed it open for Ella to come out. She’d tucked most of the back of her skirt into her tights, but apart from that she seemed to have managed to re-dress herself just fine. I waited until Simone had helped her daughter to wash and dry her hands, then held the door for them.

It was for that reason I was behind the pair as they made their way back to our table. Harrington and Sean were still deep in conversation, but I saw Sean’s head lift as soon as we appeared in his line of sight. Sean’s eyes met mine for a moment, then slid across my left shoulder and narrowed.

I saw him tense instantly, start to come out of his seat. Then I was twisting to the side, keeping my knees soft as I started to turn. I had no idea at that point what I was going to see.

A young, bearded man with a gaunt, intense face, wearing jeans and a baggy military-style jacket, had entered the restaurant and stepped into view only a couple of meters behind us. With surprising agility he’d shrugged away the hand of the maitre d’ who had tried to detain him, and his whole being was now focused on Simone and the child. His jacket was open and he had his right hand inside it, holding something concealed tight against his body.

Behind me, I sensed Sean was already going for the principals. There was no further need for communication between us. I knew instinctively that he’d selected his role based purely on cold logistics, leaving the threat for me because I was nearer, because it made more sense.

I saw the man’s arm flex as he began to withdraw his hand and I took a fast stride sideways, moving to intercept. I grabbed his right forearm just below his elbow and dug my left thumb hard into one of the main pressure points located there.

With my right hand I reached for his throat, using my own forward momentum to force him over backwards with that hold, hooking my leg around his calf to unbalance him and take him down. At the last moment I jerked my hand up slightly, enough to protect his head but not enough to stop him winding himself.

He landed with a sharp explosive whump of sound, the air gushing out of his lungs. His breath in my face smelt of peppermint. His right hand had drooped where I’d dead-armed him, letting whatever it was he’d been hiding slip to the floor.

I took a fraction of a second to scan it, just in case. It was a pink soft toy, a rabbit with long silky ears. I found myself kneeling partly on the toy animal’s body as the man who’d been carrying it struggled against my restraint.

A pink rabbit?

Suddenly, Ella’s voice was a piercing wail in my ear, accompanied by the stab of two tiny fists beating at my upper arm. Damn, she had a healthy punch for a four-year-old.

“Don’t you hurt my daddy!”

Daddy?

My grip on the man’s throat slackened just a fraction and he didn’t need a second invitation. In a flash he had levered his body half off the floor, shoving me backwards. I fought for balance and lunged for him again, seizing his jacket at the shoulder. He gave a kind of jerking twitch, as though to jettison the coat. I yanked the back of his collar down and twisted a great handful to form makeshift handcuffs around his lower arms. Then I piled onto his back, forcing him face-first into the carpet.

When I looked up I found the entire restaurant had frozen and were staring down at us. Harrington was on his feet, gaping at the tableau we presented in openmouthed horror.

Sean had his body between where I had the man pinned and Simone, his eyes scouring the rest of the crowd in case this was a diversion rather than the main event.

Simone had swept a loudly weeping Ella up into her arms. She was cradling the little girl on her hip and glaring ferociously at the man on the floor. His head was turned towards her, his nose mashed into the carpet by the pressure of my knee on the back of his neck. That might have been what had brought the tears to his eyes, or it might not.

“Simone, baby, please listen to me,” he managed in a muffled voice, scratchy with stress. “Don’t go to America. Don’t take Ella away from me. Please-”

“For God’s sake, Matt!” Simone snapped, and any trace of affection she’d shown for her ex when she’d spoken of him in the ladies’ room only a few minutes before had vanished, flattened out by anger and embarrassment. She leaned down towards him. “Who the hell are you to tell me what I can and can’t do?”

“Baby, please, don’t go. You don’t need him. I love you. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Please.” He was almost gabbling, his voice wavering between a whine and a plea. “I’m begging here.”

“Well save your goddamn breath,” Simone told him in a savage whisper, and this time Ella didn’t bother to admonish her mother for swearing. “It’s nothing to do with you what I choose to do, or where I choose to go, or who I choose to see anymore. Get used to it!”