“Deployment?”
“John Smith’s on the roof of a house down the street. Khalid’s spotting for him. Bunny’s at the wheel waiting on your word.”
Circe and Amber Taylor had come into the entrance foyer.
“Mrs. Taylor, this is DeeDee Whitman and Bradley Sims. They are part of my team and they will be escorting you and your children to a secure location.”
“Just the two of them? He said that they—”
“We have the whole team with us, ma’am,” said Top. He had a deep voice and a fatherly tone. “And at need we can bring a world of trouble down on anyone who tries to hurt you or yours. Count on it.”
She looked into his eyes, searching him, reading him. She must have found something to believe in, because she suddenly threw her arms around his barrel chest and hugged him fiercely. He stroked her hair as she sobbed.
Top inspires that kind of confidence in people. I don’t.
DeeDee stepped aside and touched her ear jack. “Scream Queen to Dancing Duck, how’s the weather?” She listened. “Okay … copy that.”
“What have you got?” I asked quietly.
“Zips in the wires, Boss,” she said. “A white van just drove past Bunny and turned onto this street.” She knelt and fished something out of her valise. It wasn’t a religious tract. She handed me a tiny earbud and a booster unit. I clipped the booster to my belt and screwed the bug in my ear. “Team on one, Command on two.”
She also handed me three extra magazines and I stuffed them into my pockets. DeeDee had an M4 slung under her coat.
I tapped the bud once. “Echo, Echo, Cowboy on deck. Call signs here on out.”
I heard Bunny say, “Welcome to the jungle, Boss.”
“Sit rep.”
“One white van, two in the front, unknown in the back.”
“Got it,” said Khalid. Smith wouldn’t comment. He hardly ever speaks. “We have two hostiles on foot in the back alley. Hold on. Make that four hostiles. Two heading northeast. Two coming from the west. Van has stopped. Counting hostiles. Looks like the driver and one other only.”
“Six?” complained Bunny. “That ain’t even a fight.”
“Keep it tight, Green Giant,” scolded Top.
“We need someone with a pulse,” I said. “I’m in the mood for a conversation.”
“Hooah,” they said.
I turned to Circe and Taylor. “Go get the kids. DeeDee, go with them. Quick and quiet. Do it now. Just coats and gloves. Don’t stop for anything else.”
I tapped the earbud and called Khalid. “Dancing Duck, did they leave anyone at the van?”
“Negative, Cowboy. Driver and the other are walking along the street. They’re passing your Explorer. Wait; hold on. Shit. The driver put his palm on the hood to feel for engine heat. They’re drawing guns.”
“Chatterbox,” I said.
“Got ’em.”
I hurried to the window and looked out just in time to see both of the men stagger backward and fall into the hedges that lined the street near where I’d parked. Less than a second, two perfect head shots. No sound at all. I couldn’t tell where the shots had come from, but Smith was the hammer of God up to 350 yards.
I turned at the sound of commotion and saw DeeDee herding Taylor and her kids out the cellar door.
“What’s happening? What’s going on?” the kids demanded. Then they saw Top and me standing in the foyer. Top had shed his disguise. Under the topcoat he wore black fatigues, body armor, and belts from which were slung the kinds of weapons most people only see on TV or in movies.
“W-what—?”
I started to say something, but Top Sims brushed past me. He knelt on one knee. “Look, kids. There’s something happening and we’re here to protect you and your mom. I’m a kind of policeman. We all are. We’re going to take you and your mom to a safe place.”
“But … but …”
“There are a couple of bad men in the neighborhood. We need to take care of that, and we will. That’s what we do. But I need you guys to be brave and strong and help us get your mom to a safe place. Can you do that?”
Their eyes were the size of hubcaps and their mouths were little round “ohs,” but they both nodded. Top gave them a warmer smile than anything his enemies would believe him capable of.
“Okay, now this man here is the boss. You can call him Cowboy. That’s his—”
“That’s his call sign!” declared young Mark.
Top grinned and patted Mark’s arm. “Well, look at you! I’ll bet you know all about cops and bad guys.”
“Are there terrorists out there?” Mark asked, his eyes huge with excitement.
“They are bad men,” Top assured him, not using the word “terror.” “But we got that covered, ’cause there are more of my friends outside. We’re all going to get into a big truck and drive away to a nice safe place.”
I turned away and smiled. Top was a dad; I didn’t have any kids. Right then, I’d have gone with him to an ice-cream shop or a ball game.
“Cowboy, Cowboy,” said Khalid, “be advised. Company in sixty. Looks like back and west side. Two and two.”
I tapped the earbud. “Chatterbox … Sergeant Rock’s coming out with friendlies. Keep ’em safe.”
“’K,’” he said.
“Green Giant,” I growled to Bunny, “we’re waiting on you. Bring Black Bess to the front door. Quick and noisy.”
“Rock and roll,” he answered.
To Top I said, “Get the kids into the car. Scream Queen, you’re with me.”
In the distance I could hear the rumble of a heavy engine as the big DMS TacV thundered down the street toward us. Ghost started barking like mad and I knew that he sniffed the hostiles.
“Now!” I yelled, and jerked the door open. Ghost stood at the edge of the porch, craning his neck around toward the back, barking with heavy monster barks. Bunny screeched to a halt and leaped out. The kids—and even Circe—goggled a little at the size of the driver, but he waved them on and opened the back door, fanning a big IMI Desert Eagle over their heads as they ran.
From inside the house I could hear glass breaking as the hostiles smashed their way in through the back door and side window. With the barks and yells and engine noise, they had to know that a rescue attempt was in progress, so they weren’t going for stealth. They opened fire at once, filling the house with hot rounds as they crowded inside, trying to flush us out toward the two men from the van. They apparently didn’t know that they were two head shots past the point where that plan was going to work.
I flattened out against the living room wall behind the couch with Ghost on the floor beside me. I told him to be quiet and ready. He looked ready to tackle Godzilla. DeeDee climbed to the fifth step on the staircase and crouched low.
The hostiles were working in pairs. Two out front, the others a room and a half behind them. Nice combat spacing. We could kill them all, but we couldn’t capture them all.
The first two men rushed through the TV room and into the living room, heading straight for the open front door. We let them pass; then DeeDee and I wheeled around the edges of the wall and opened up on the other two. It was a classic ambush and they didn’t have a chance. We put three shots in each and then spun off of that, closing to zero distance with the other shooters, who were skidding to a stop, scrambling to turn, realizing that they’d been mousetrapped.
DeeDee reached her target half a second before I did, so I got a peripheral view of how she handled him. She used the stock of her rifle to slap his AK-47 wide; then instead of checking her swing and bringing the stock back for a head shot, she continued the circular swing of the weapon and caught him in the face with the barrel. The guy’s nose and upper teeth exploded, but before he could scream DeeDee kneed him in the groin; as he bent forward she knee-kicked him in his broken nose.