by Mike Ryan
“All right. Let me get dressed and I’ll tell them what’s going on,” Swanson said, dipping his foot in the water and swirling it around.
Lamb thought for a man who was just told his life was in danger, Swanson sure seemed to be taking his time. Maybe he thought he had all the time in the world, but as Lamb knew, he probably had even less than he thought. Swanson should have had a little more urgency in his step to avoid the nastiness that was coming toward his door. Just as Swanson took his foot out of the water, his wife opened the sliding glass door and came outside.
“Hi. Who are you?” Mrs. Swanson asked with a warm smile.
“Uhh, I’m the neighborhood watch.”
A confused look came over her face, unsure what he was talking about, then looked at her husband.
“It’s OK, honey, he’s here to take us somewhere,” her husband said.
“What? What are you talking about? Take us where?”
“You know, I never did get your name,” Swanson said.
“Eric. Eric Lamb.”
“Eric Lamb,” Swanson repeated, his face changing. Lamb could tell by his expression that the name meant something to him. “I’ve heard of you,” he said.
Lamb didn’t really seem impressed or flattered that he had. “That so?”
“Yeah. You’ve got a reputation for being one of the best.”
“Well, I’ll agree with that.”
“Honey, what’s going on?” Mrs. Swanson asked.
“Eric just came here to warn us that, uhh, we’re…,” Swanson stumbled as he tried to explain what was happening. He had a hard time just coming out and telling his wife they were on the list to be murdered.
“Your entire family’s on a hit list,” Lamb bluntly said. “I’ve already had to kill four people this morning just to get here and warn you, so if you two don’t mind, I do suggest we start leaving.”
By the look on Mrs. Swanson’s face, she seemed to have a hard time processing what she’d just heard. With her husband’s work, she always knew something like this was possible, though she didn’t really believe it would ever happen. Her husband never indicated any problems, or anything serious was on the horizon. If he had, she always assumed that they’d have enough time to get away, fly out of the country well before any unpleasantness happened.
“C’mon, we have to go,” Mr. Swanson said, grabbing his wife by the elbow.
“Wait, how do we know we can trust him?” she asked, looking at their visitor. “How do you know he wasn’t the one sent here.”
“I was hired. Then I declined,” Lamb said, knowing they didn’t really have time for this back-and-forth chat. “If you two wanna stay here and take your chances, that’s fine, I’m all for it. If that’s the case, let me get your daughter to safety.”
“That still doesn’t answer my question. How do we know we can trust him?”
“Listen, if I was sent to kill you we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. You’d be dead already. I would’ve killed you long before now and you never would’ve known what hit you.”
“Well, I’m not letting my daughter go anywhere with you by herself. If she goes anywhere, it’ll be with me.”
“He’s right, dear, I’ve heard of his reputation before. He wouldn’t be here to warn us if he was the one hired,” Mr. Swanson said.
Lamb put his hand on his head in frustration. He really didn’t see this coming. He figured Lawrence Swanson would be the tougher one to convince, but it turned out he was easier to talk to than his wife.
“I’m fine with that, ma’am,” Lamb said, hoping to get the ball rolling soon. “But I really suggest we start speeding things up. If not, we’re going to have a bunch of unpleasant people here soon and who knows how long we’ll be able to hold them off.”
Mrs. Swanson turned toward her husband to get his thoughts. Lamb rolled his eyes as they had a brief discussion. While they chatted, he looked about the property, just to make sure they didn’t have any friends arriving yet. In his mind, this was taking too long. They should’ve been out of there several minutes ago for his liking. All this talking was putting them behind schedule and making it tougher for them to have a clear escape route. Part of him felt like just turning around and going, leaving them to face whatever harsh punishment awaited them. If it wasn’t for their daughter, he probably would have done just that.
“We’re wasting time here,” Lamb said, trying to give them a warning to move them along faster.
6
After a few minutes of Lamb listening to the married couple’s discussion, he was starting to get irritated. He knew time wasn’t on their side to begin with, but now, he figured it had evaporated completely. Though he kept looking around to see if he noticed anything unusual, nothing jumped out of him. He couldn’t shake the feeling, though, that something was out there. It could have just been that sixth sense he had that was telling him to move. Maybe it was the years of experience he had, looking through the scopes of his rifle at a target himself that was urging him to move. Whatever it was, something just didn’t feel right.
“We really need to go,” Lamb said. “Now.”
“He’s right, honey. We can’t stand here all day,” Mr. Swanson said.
“What are we going to tell Brooke?” his wife asked.
“How ‘bout telling her there are bad people on their way here to hurt us and we need to move now?” Lamb suggested.
“Where are we even going to go?”
“We’ll figure it out once we’re on the road.”
“You mean you don’t even have a plan?” Mrs. Swanson asked.
“Sorry, been a little busy up to this point just getting here.”
“He’s right, we’ll figure it out. Right now, we need to get dressed,” her husband said.
Lawrence Swanson broke away from his wife momentarily and put his towel on one of the lounge chairs sitting by the edge of the pool. Though he didn’t like the situation one bit, he was ready to do what was necessary to get his family to safety. He turned around and put his hands on his hips, hesitating just for a moment before walking back into the house. He’d only taken a few steps when a shot rang out.
Upon hearing the booming shot, Lamb snapped to attention, withdrawing his gun, and holding it in front of him as he turned toward the direction the shot came from. He turned his head around to look at the Swanson’s, just in time to see Lawrence Swanson with a bullet in his forehead. Like it happened in slow motion, Swanson fell back, his body splashing into the pool. Mrs. Swanson yelled out in fear and anguish as she ran over to the edge of the pool to check on her husband.
“Get down!” Lamb shouted at Mrs. Swanson.
“What are we gonna do?” she asked, not yet finding a safe position.
“Move!”
Just as the words left his lips, she rose to her feet to find some patio furniture to get behind. She never got that far, though. Before she was able to take a step, another shot rang out, this time finding Mrs. Swanson. Lamb looked over at her, just in time to see her hit by the bullet. The bullet went right through the left side of her chest, piercing her heart. The impact of the blast also knocked her back into the pool, floating right alongside her husband.
Lamb had gotten behind a chair until he got a better view of what was going on. He peeked around the chair to get a view of the pool, seeing the two bodies floating in the water. Neither was moving and Lamb could easily see that they were dead. He shook his head at them, not understanding why they took so long to move in what was obviously a very dangerous and delicate situation. Well, they weren’t his problem now. He warned them and did his best to get them to understand what was happening. The rest was on them. And now it was too late to help them. But all wasn’t lost. He still had what he considered the most important part of the assignment left. The girl. He looked over at the sliding glass door and saw her standing there crying, looking outside at her two dead parents floating in the pool.
Lamb knew he had to get to her soon, just
to be able to calm her down. He worried that she was too upset and emotional and might do something stupid, like come outside to check on her parents’ condition. He had to make a run for that door and risk drawing some gunfire himself in order to make sure she stayed safe.
By now he knew the general direction of the shooter, but Lamb still couldn’t pinpoint a specific spot. It had to be coming from behind the house somewhere. The shooter had to be in a window or maybe a rooftop. Wherever they were, they were concealing their position well. Lamb knew he couldn’t stay in one spot too long and risk being pinned down, especially if there were other people coming. Even though there was a sniper, that didn’t mean there weren’t boots on the ground coming to check the status of the victims. And if that were the case, Lamb had to move, and move quickly.
He suddenly jumped to his feet from behind the protection of the chair and sprinted toward the door. As he got to it, he fumbled with the handle just slightly before finally being able to jam it open. As he slid it open, another shot rang out. Lamb didn’t have to look to know the bullet was for him. He grimaced as he muffled his scream, not wanting to make it seem like he was hurt too bad. The bullet grazed the side of his thigh on his left leg. Once Lamb entered the home, he shut the door behind him, Brooke Swanson backing up in the kitchen at the sight of him. Lamb sighed and grabbed hold of his leg for a second, looking down to see the damage. He saw a few spots of blood, but outside of a little bit of a stinging sensation, it didn’t feel too bad. Lamb looked back up and saw Brooke standing against the sink, staring at him, a petrified look on her face.
“Don’t worry, kid. I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“My mom and dad.”
“They’re gone. I’m sorry, there’s nothing else we can do for them.”
More tears started flowing down Brooke’s cheek, and as badly as Lamb felt for her, he knew they didn’t have time for that. As much as he wished he could have given her all the time she needed to cry and grieve, he knew others would be there soon. And if they didn’t hurry, others would be crying and grieving over them.
“We’re gonna have to go,” Lamb said.
“Where?”
“I’m not sure yet. We just have to get out of here as quickly as possible.”
Brooke stood by the sink, paralyzed in fear, and Lamb knew it was going to be a bit of a challenge with her. It was obviously a traumatic experience for her and he understood that. He could have just walked over to her, scooped her up and carried her over his shoulder and took her out the door. But that didn’t seem like the best way to handle it. If he wanted her to trust him, he was going to have to break through that wall of fear. And he’d have to do it fast.
“Brooke, I know you’re scared right now, but if we don’t leave here in the next few minutes, there’s gonna be a lot more bad guys coming through that door.”
“How do you know my name?”
“I was a friend of your father’s. He brought me in to try and protect everyone in case something like this happened.”
“But you didn’t help him. You couldn’t save him.”
“I know. I tried. I told them we had to leave now but they weren’t listening,” Lamb said. “But I can still save you. I can protect you. I promise. But we have to go now.”
Brooke temporarily stopped crying and wiped her tears away, then looked down at the leg of the man in front of her.
“You’re hurt,” she said.
Lamb looked down at his leg, barely giving it another thought. “This? It’s nothing,” he said, smiling at her to help relieve her fears.
“What’s your name?”
“Eric.”
Brooke still looked terrified at what was going on around her, but figured if the man in her house was going to hurt her, he would have done it by now. She didn’t really have any choice but to trust him. Lamb stuck his hand out, hoping the girl would walk over to him and grab it so he could lead her out of there. After hesitating a few more seconds, Brooke’s legs finally started moving. She walked over to him and cautiously put her hand in his. Lamb tried to give her as warm a smile as he could muster at the time and gently took her hand to walk out of the kitchen.
As Lamb led Brooke out of the house, he continued talking to her, just trying to calm her nerves. He knew she had to be terrified at the world crumbling around her. Lamb tried to walk as quickly as possible, knowing they didn’t have much time. Without knowing whether the shooter was working alone or had friends, Lamb was at a distinct disadvantage. They walked to the front of the house with the intention of hopping into one of Swanson’s cars. When Lamb stood by the front gate earlier, he thought he saw a black car sitting at the top of the driveway. He figured he could hot-wire it if necessary.
As they maneuvered through the house, Lamb tried to pay close attention to the windows in case he spotted any intruders on the outside. He was listening intently for any strange sounds that would indicate there were other people waiting for them. He didn’t see or hear anything. But he also knew that sometimes silence was the worst sound of all.
Once they reached the living room, they’d just passed a chair when the front door suddenly swung open. Before Lamb even saw anyone, he pushed Brooke down behind the chair. Not even a second after the door flew open, several men burst through the opening, guns blazing. Lamb exchanged gunfire with the first man who came through the door, both men shooting at the same time. While the bullet from the .22 caliber pistol missed Lamb, his shot hit the intruder in the chest. While he was down, another man rushed in, catching Lamb as he stood in the middle of the room. Lamb wasn’t sure he had enough time to bolt from his position and take up cover somewhere else. He worried that while he was doing that, more men would rush in and catch him off guard.
As Lamb saw the man come in, he fired several rounds in his direction. One of them hit his target as the man went down, though not fatally. Lamb was about to finish him off when a third man came in, blasting away. Lamb saw him come through and turned his gun in the man’s direction, both of them firing simultaneously. Both men almost instantly dropped to the ground in pain, as they caught bullets. Lamb was shot in the left shoulder, and though it hurt badly, he knew he didn’t have time to fret about it. He quickly located his gun, which fell from his hand only a couple of inches away as he landed on the carpet. He grabbed it, rolled over on his stomach, and immediately located his attackers. The first man was dead, but the other two were still breathing, though rolling around in considerable amounts of pain.
Lamb aimed his gun at the third man, who seemed to be in the best shape. He’d been able to get back to his feet. He’d just picked up his gun after getting shot in the shoulder himself and pointed it at Lamb’s body on the floor. Lamb beat him to the punch, though, firing two more rounds that found its way into the man’s midsection, making him fall back to the ground on his knees as he clutched his stomach. With him taken care of for the moment, Lamb quickly shifted his focus to the second man who was still lying on the floor. He was badly wounded, and though he was moving his arms and legs, didn’t seem to have enough energy to get back to his feet. Nevertheless, Lamb couldn’t take the chance of leaving anyone else alive.
Lamb stood up, then walked to the carnage of the three bodies on the floor, the third man finally falling over, perishing as his shooter approached. Lamb stood over the bullet-ridden body of the second man, who looked up and saw that his life was about to be snuffed away. Wanting to get it over with quickly, Lamb didn’t hesitate on putting another bullet into him, this one lodging in the front of his forehead. Lamb walked over to the door and quickly took a peek outside to make sure there were no others, then shut it. He walked over the dead bodies again as he went to check on Brooke’s condition. She was still tucked behind a big oversized chair, her hands on the sides of her face as she worried about what was going on around her.
Lamb came around the chair and looked down on her. Though she noticed a pair of legs standing next to her, perhaps out of fear, she didn’t bother to look
and see who they belonged to. Seeing how petrified she was, Lamb got down on one knee to make sure she was OK. He put his gun on the ground and reached his hand over to her, putting it on her forearm. She finally looked over at him, seeing him give her a warm smile.
“You all right?” Lamb asked.
Brooke just nodded. Then she noticed the blood dripping down from his shoulder. “You’re hurt.”
Lamb looked at his shoulder, and though it was painful, tried to play it off, not wanting to alarm her any more than she already was. “This? Ahh, it’s nothing. Just a scratch.”
“Are you gonna go to the hospital?”
“For this? No. I can take care of this myself. Don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal.”
Lamb had been lucky so far. Shot twice, though neither did much damage. One bullet grazed his leg, causing what basically amounted to a large scrape. The bullet to his shoulder was a through and through, not hitting any major organs or tissues on the way in or out. The bleeding was minimal. As Brooke looked at her injured new friend, her eyes bulged out. Looking away from him, over his shoulder, Lamb could see that something was wrong. That there was a new problem.
“Eric!” Brooke screamed.
Lamb lunged onto the ground to grab his gun, rolled over onto his back, and quickly located his target, firing in one fell swoop. The man coming up behind them grabbed his chest as the three bullets Lamb fired found its way into his body. After gasping for air, he dropped to his hands and knees. A few seconds, the man collapsed and fell over onto his side as he lost the struggle to breathe. Lamb picked himself off the ground and went over to the fallen man, nudging him with his foot to see if there was any life left in him. With no response, Lamb checked the man’s vital signs, and after getting nothing, walked back over to Brooke. She was staring at the dead man who was lying only a few feet in front of her. Lamb kneeled down in front of her again, making sure he blocked her view of the body. He figured she’d seen enough. She didn’t need the reminder of all the chaos staring her in the face.
