The Killing Bind

Chapter 21: Who's and How's

"Put your hands in the air and drop the gun"

Andrew Beckett held the gun against his brother's head. He had cocked it and asked him to put his hands in the air. His brother did as he was asked. His fore finger was pulsating to pull the trigger. But only, he couldn't. He was not allowed to. If he did. He would be dead and no one would even know.

He was going against all the protocols and rules of the agency for needs. He was always supposed to keep a low profile. Don't talk to anyone unless if needed. Don't stand out. He broke all of these in the past few hours. A part of him kept thinking about was, how he would keep a low profile now. This was not in his plan. He was not supposed to have a gun pointed, nearly touching his brothers head, his gun begging to be shot. He was wearing a black ski mask with a hooded head.

He could see his brother more clearly now, only from the back. His brother wasn't ripped. He saw a bit of belly fat and a light brown beard. He didn't see his brother, Jack's face. He needed to be careful on what he would say and do next. He couldn't shoot him, and he certainly couldn't walk away like nothing had happened.

He was not supposed to give away his identity to people who could recognize him from the simple things. Then again, he only had his brother and mother back then. No other close family.

He needed to give him a warning. Pointing the gun at the back of his head was a rash and impulsive decision.

Andrew 'ex-Miller' finally heard his brother talk, "Who the hell are you?" it was surprisingly calm. He knew he would be calm in situations like these. But his brother had no proper training of any sorts. He was not in his right mind. Killing his own mother and a police detective.

"You don't need to know that." Andrew replied.

Jack didn't say anything.

"Did you kill the two police detectives?" Andrew asked.

"Yes." Jack replied. He was surprised to the core; he never would have expected him to confess to it this quickly. Was it because he thought he was going to die? Or was it some trick Andrew didn't get.

He didn't think of anything more now. He got the confirmation and now he needed to leave. He thought of something. He pulled his gun back slightly and he could feel Jack physically relax. He slightly aimed it to the side and pulled the trigger at a metal bucket in the corner. The bullet ricochet from the bucket leaving a fragment and the other part flew into Jack's leg. Even though it wasn't a complete bullet, it still caused a huge amount of pain. Jack bent down clutching his leg in pain. Andrew took the chance and left through the front door, careful to not show his face.

Andrew Beckett's escape was quick and simple. It wasn't a Tom Cruise style escape. He put the handgun in his back pocket and began walking to his car. He had calculated how much time he needed to get back to his car in all the possible scenarios that could have happened. Like if his leg was shot or of his Stomach was pierced with a knife. Fortunately, he was so damn lucky to have gotten away with the easiest escape and questioning in his career.

That's when it hit him. A bullet. It hit his right calf. He couldn't run at full pace now, that was impossible. He ran with a slight limp, every step he took, his leg was burning with pain. He didn't turn his head; he knew who it was. It took 75 percent of his energy to reach the car. he covered in from the hood of the car and extended his head to look.

Jack Miller was still clutching on to his leg, this time it was on the center of the dark road which became darker due to the night. The only light on the street being Beckett's car head lights and a single light pole which kept blinking. Miller had the gun in his hand, held loosely because he had lost all of his energy in reaching outside and pulling the trigger once to hit Andrew Beckett in the leg.