“Not yet.”
“I’ve got RC checking with local police to see if a unit’s been dispatched. With a little luck, none are coming.”
“She’ll want her own people to secure Echo One’s house.”
“No doubt, but we aren’t hanging around until they arrive. We’re bugging out. Our friend is back on the line, gotta go.”
He put the phone to his ear.
“Was that Russian?” Cantrell asked. “What’s going on?”
“Just me talking to Echo Four. We’re using our radios.”
“SDPD hasn’t been dispatched. I’ve got a team on the way and I don’t want you there when they arrive.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Count on twenty-five minutes. Take Echo One with you. Can you transport her?”
“Yes.”
“Is she unconscious?”
“Yes. With your team coming, I assume you don’t need us to photograph the intruders?”
“My team will handle that. In twenty-three minutes, I want you to clear her property and observe from safe distance. As soon as you see two vehicles enter her driveway, take off and don’t look back. Echo One’s in your care until we sort out the security breach.”
“I hear you. No one should’ve been able to get her home address, especially foreign nationals.”
“I seriously doubt Echo One accidentally leaked it. From this point on, the only people who will know her whereabouts are you, Echo Four, and me. Meanwhile, I’ve dispatched a specialist to handle the intruder. Maybe we’ll get somewhere with him.”
Nathan knew what she meant. “That won’t break my heart. Do you know what this is about?”
“Not over the phone. Remember when I said you’re never retired?”
Nathan didn’t need to say anything.
“You and Echo Four are vested in this,” Rebecca said. “Secure our guest and call me after my team arrives.”
“I promised Echo One I’d look after her dogs until she’s back on her feet.”
“Low priority.”
“I gave her my word.”
Cantrell didn’t respond and Nathan didn’t interrupt the silence.
“Where are they?” she asked at last.
“Upstairs, in the bedroom closet.”
“Let my team handle them.”
“Echo One said their collars and leashes are in a kitchen drawer.”
“I’ll pass it on. One of my officers will pack up the dogs and meet you later for the exchange.”
His phone went dark.
I should be careful what I wish for. I told Harv I was bored.
CHAPTER 6
Two minutes later, Nathan’s earpiece came to life with Harv’s voice, still in Russian. “I’m parked. I’ll be at the corner of her property in under a minute.”
“Copy that. I’m looking at the spot where you’ll hop the wall.”
Linda’s eyes were closed and she took long, slow breaths. If not totally unconscious, she was in a twilight state.
Again, he wondered why she’d been targeted, and why now? Rebecca said she had an idea about what was going on and Nathan intended to find out. Someone had gone to a great deal of trouble attempting to get their hands on her.
“Okay, I’m at the corner of the wall.”
“Stand by, Harv. I’m going to relocate to the closest citrus tree. Ten seconds. I’ll be able to see the entire front and side yards from there.”
“There’s no activity out here.”
Nathan clicked his radio and hustled south along the row of trees. Detecting no one, he radioed the all clear to Harv.
His friend appeared at the top of the wall and, without hesitating, dropped to the grass. He hasn’t lost much. Scaling a solid eight-foot wall took strength and skill and Harv made it look easy.
Nathan stepped into Harv’s line of sight. “You got me?”
“You’re hard to miss.”
“Do a thermal scan from there. You’ll see two casualties.”
“I’ve got them. I’m not detecting anyone else.”
“Then come join the party.”
Without NV, Nathan wouldn’t have seen Harv. His friend’s black 5.11 clothing and gear mirrored his own, making him all but invisible to the naked eye. Harv also wore a night-vision visor, but his friend’s scope was flipped up.
They both crouched at the base of the tree. “If there are more intruders in here, they’ve gone to ground,” Nathan said.
“Where’s LG?”
“Sixth tree.”
“Let’s play it safe and leapfrog. I’ll go first.”
“Sounds good.”
Using a technique they’d mastered on countless ops, they advanced to LG’s position. So far, so good: no one had shot at them.
Harv pivoted his NV scope down to his eye, powered on the device, and adjusted the focus. “Looks like she went a few rounds.”
“It was up close and personal at the end. Her husband took a few in the chest.”
“That’s a bad deal. You know LG . . . she’s gonna want some payback.”
He nodded and updated Harv on what he’d seen, including his conversation with Cantrell. “I need to go back in there and haul that unconscious guy out.”
“That’s a terrible idea for a lot of reasons,” Harv said.
“We’re a little short on options.”
“If I position myself next to the door, I’ll be able to cover LG’s position from there and make sure no one follows you in.”
“You’ll be exposed. There’s no cover.”
“I’ll be okay,” Harv said. “Get going, I’ll be right behind you.”
With Harv watching his back, the sprint across the open expanse of lawn didn’t feel nearly as perilous. Even the distance seemed shorter. He took a knee next to the library door and said, “Sit tight for a sec and give me ten seconds of radio silence.” He heard Harv’s acknowledgment click.
Everything looked the same, but the house was totally silent. Linda’s dogs no longer barked. That could be good or bad.
He keyed his mike and told Harv to advance.
“Change in plan,” Nathan whispered when Harv arrived. “I don’t like how quiet it is in there. We’ll leapfrog our entry. I’ll stop at the far side of the pool table, you continue straight into the kitchen. You’ll see an island. Our bad guy’s on the far side, in front of the oven. Grab his backpack. We’re gonna need it. You ready?”
“And if I say no?” Harv asked.
“We’re going anyway.”
“I knew you’d say that. What about LG?”
“We’ll be in and out in under a minute. She’ll be okay.”
As it turned out, it only took forty-five seconds.
With Harv covering, Nathan retrieved the unconscious gunman and hauled him in a firefighter’s carry out to LG’s position at the citrus tree. Harv arrived a few seconds later.
Nathan turned his NV to maximum gain and rifled through the gunman’s pack. Sure enough, he found a vial labeled in Spanish: Ketamina 1000mg/10 ml Solución Inyectable. He rifled through the backpack for a syringe but didn’t find one.
“Harv, did you grab the syringe from the floor?”
“No, you didn’t ask me to.”
“We need it. I’m going back.”
“Stay with Linda, I’ll go.” His friend grinned. “I’m faster than you.”
“Like hell you are. Your legs are shorter. So’s everything else.”
“It’s not the size, it’s the motion.”
“Just get going, jarhead.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
He had to admit, Harv could haul ass. Of course, not wanting to get shot was a strong motivator.
Alone with Linda and the intruder, he again thought about what this dirtbag would’ve done to her. Maybe he should’ve killed him. Then again, enduring Cantrell’s interrogator would be punishment enough.
He suddenly realized he had no idea how much Ketamine to use. He was a pretty good judge of
weight and figured this guy weighed about 175 pounds. If he injected too much, it might kill him.
“Harv, I need to call Cantrell for the right dosage.”
“Hang on. I’m on my way out. I read an article about Special K’s recreational use in China not too long ago.”
Harv arrived thirty seconds later, handed him the syringe, and conducted another thermal scan.
“Do you know the dose?”
“The article said one hundred milligrams.”
“We need to be certain.” Nathan adjusted the focus of his NV scope. “That number doesn’t do us much good. This syringe is measured in milliliters, not milligrams. We need to know the conversion. Maintain our perimeter. I’m calling Cantrell.”
“I’m on the other line,” Cantrell said. “What’s going on?”
“We need a dose in milliliters for the Ketamine in a big hurry. Our guest weighs about 175 pounds.”
“Hold the line. I’ll be right back.”
The call went silent again.
“I’m on hold.”
“We can’t carry LG down the driveway. We’d be in plain sight. What about the canyon?”
He shook his head. “The stairs going down the bluff are too steep and narrow. We’ll just have to manhandle her over the wall. The trees along the street will give us some cover. It’s a good thing she’s unconscious.”
“For us or her?”
“We’re getting her over that wall without worrying about where we touch her.”
“If you say so . . .”
Waiting for Cantrell, Nathan supposed he could call Dr. Reavie. The doctor’s wife, Jane, worked as the nurse-anesthetist in their plastic-surgery practice. Strike that. What was he thinking? He couldn’t call Doug in the middle of the night and ask about a Ketamine dose. Doug would want an explanation; anything less would put his friend on the wrong side of the ethical equation. Besides, Cantrell wouldn’t sanction Doug’s involvement or knowledge in what could be a major CIA security breach.
She came back on the line. “What’s the label say? It comes in different strengths.”
He read it to her.
“Okay, use two point six milliliters. Inject him in the thigh slowly, over ten seconds or so.”
“Will do,” Nathan said.
“Call me when you’ve cleared the area.”
Nathan filled the syringe to the specified amount, stuck it into the man’s thigh, and slowly pressed the plunger. Next, he dragged the man under the citrus tree, used his knife to cut the cuffs LG had used, and secured his wrists behind the trunk with another set of disposable cuffs he’d found in the man’s backpack.
“All right,” Nathan said. “Let’s move out.” LG made no sound as he scooped her off the wet lawn. Good thing, he thought. Fractured or bruised ribs tended to be extremely painful. “I’ll carry her over to the corner where you hopped the wall.”
“I’m right behind you.”
Thirty yards of open lawn lay between them and the wall, but there was no avoiding it.
With LG slung around his neck like the Wounded Warriors logo, he took off in a dead run. Unfortunately, it took both hands to safely carry her. He hadn’t used this technique when he’d carried her out of the house because he’d needed a free gun hand. If bullets flew his way, he’d be relying on Harv to lay down suppression fire. Before he reached the base of the wall, Harv said, “I’m on the move. Right behind you, covering your left.”
Nathan stopped at the wall and kept LG slung around his neck.
Harv joined him a few seconds later. “You know, we might just make it outta here without getting shot.”
“Yeah, that’s the general idea.”
Harv did a quick sweep with the TI. “We’re good.”
“You go first and straddle the top. I’ll lift her up by her armpits. Once you’ve got her arms, I’ll switch to her legs.”
Nathan laid LG down, grabbed her under her armpits, and power lifted her like a father hoisting a toddler over his head. Her head lolled forward and hit the wall, but it wasn’t a hard blow. Harv reached down and grabbed her arms just above her elbows. When Harv pulled, LG’s T-shirt lifted over her head.
Nathan didn’t divert his eyes in time, but given the circumstances, he felt certain she wouldn’t care. Once Harv had her stabilized, he scaled the wall and straddled it, facing Harv. He grabbed her thighs and balanced her weight on the top of the wall.
“You got her?”
Harv said he did.
Nathan dropped into the front yard and Harv lowered her into his grasp. It was ten times easier getting her down.
“I’ll cover our six again,” Harv said.
With one hundred and ten pounds draped around his neck, it would be a long, two-hundred-yard run to Harv’s car. He took careful strides to avoid falling as he hustled along the trees lining the street.
He thought about what she’d gone through. Would she blame herself for Glen’s death? What would her mental state be when she regained awareness? From what he’d observed in the house, she’d done incredibly well, considering the odds she’d faced. At least their security system did its job. She’d been given enough advance warning to—
Just short of Harv’s sedan, he heard the sudden roar of an engine.
CHAPTER 7
From the direction of Linda’s house, some kind of compact sedan raced straight toward him and its headlights were dark. Making matters worse, a gunman hung out the passenger window, his weapon plainly visible. There was no way he’d have time to set Linda down, pull his Sig, and line up on the threat.
He didn’t have to.
Harv appeared out of nowhere as the compact closed to thirty yards.
Nathan watched in admiration as his friend took a Weaver stance in the middle of the street and popped off three quick shots. The compact’s windshield took a tight group of impacts at the exact height of the driver’s head.
Great shooting, Harv.
As if mechanically wounded, the vehicle sped past Harv’s position, veered to the left, hopped the curb on the opposite side of the street, and spun 360 degrees. Still moving at a good clip, it sheared a mailbox and plowed into an imperial palm. The compact went from thirty miles an hour to zero in less than a second. The loud crunch of deforming metal and shattering plastic reverberated off every house in the area.
“So much for getting out of here quietly,” he said.
“Yep, we’re blown for sure. I’m in the open, I need to find cover.”
“I’ll take LG the rest of the way. Stay on the compact.”
“I’m on it.”
At Harv’s Mercedes, Nathan laid LG on the grass next to the curb and pulled his Sig.
The passenger door of the compact flew open and a gunman—dressed exactly like his comrades—crawled out. Nathan knew the air bag detonation had hammered him. The guy rolled onto his side and cursed. He then unslung his compact machine gun, scurried around the vehicle, and hid behind its collapsed hood.
Nathan didn’t have a shot without risking a stray into the house beyond. Because the driver’s door of the compact faced away from Harv’s position, Nathan wasn’t certain his friend had seen the gunman crawl out.
To protect Harv, he yelled in Spanish, “Hey, numb nuts, over here!”
That drew the gunman’s attention, just as he’d planned. Better me than Harv, Nathan thought. His friend had a family to think about.
His earpiece came to life with “Damn it, Nate. What the hell are you—”
The gunman’s suppressed weapon spat javelins of light.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
Nathan lay flat between LG and the shooter. If any bullets found their way through Harv’s hundred-thousand-dollar Mercedes, he hoped they’d find him, not Linda. He covered his head with his arms. Although his ballistic vest protected his torso, everything else remained exposed.
The gunman’s aim wasn’t perfect but good enough.
Several three-round bursts slammed into Harv’s car. Th
e thumps happened so quickly, they sounded like single impacts. Two more volleys pounded the Mercedes. Harv’s gonna be pissed. Some of the bullets went high, shattering the rear passenger windows. Tempered glass showered them. For now, all Nathan could do was protect LG until the barrage ended.
“I’m pinned and your car’s taking a beating.” He heard two suppressed reports from Harv’s Sig. The neighborhood fell silent for a few seconds.
Then the sound of the bursts changed as the gunman returned fire at Harv.
Time to enter the fight.
Nathan peered through the broken windows and saw Harv charging the compact, shooting as he ran. Nathan’s night vision registered each of Harv’s discharges, making his friend’s handgun look like some kind of high-tech EMP weapon. The gunman kept shooting, forcing Harv to dodge right into the cover of some eucalyptus trees.
Nathan said, “Giving you cover fire.”
“I could use it!”
Staying low, Nathan moved to his right, bench-rested his Sig on the hood, and activated the laser. He painted the near side of the wrecked compact and fired three times into the door panel. Intentionally skipping them off the street, he sent several bullets underneath the chassis. He felt confident his subsonic ball ammo wouldn’t have much energy left to penetrate the walls of the house beyond. Confident, but not positive. He had no choice. Harv needed help. Nathan’s goal was to kill the gunman, but he’d settle for making the guy duck for cover and stop shooting.
It didn’t work.
Nathan reloaded his Sig and began a continuous barrage, firing a bullet every second. He adjusted his aim and put bullets through the vehicle’s windows.
The gunman stopped firing.
Nathan keyed his mike. “Status?”
“I’m in the trees at your ten o’clock,” Harv said. “I’ll be in position to take him out in five seconds. Give me more cover fire.”
Nathan clicked his radio and changed magazines again. Fresh holes appeared in the door panels and front fender as he walked his shots along the length of the compact. Contrary to the way Hollywood depicted things, cars didn’t explode from small-arms fire.
Halfway through his salvo, the gunman bolted.
“He’s on the move,” Nathan said. “Running west, across my twelve o’clock. I don’t have a clear shot without risking a stray into someone’s living room.”
Right to Kill Page 6
