Evarts felt sick. He called Standish.
She answered with, “Chief, I got a call from Patricia. Are you in town?”
“No time for explanations. Have the Egyptians cruised anywhere other than my house and the station?”
“Hope Ranch. Started yesterday. We thought it was weird but assumed they liked looking at mansions.”
“Gotta go.”
He ended the call and phoned Baldwin. She answered in a calm voice.
“Police called. Arriving in moments. They’ll search the complex before seeing us.” She laughed nervously. “I think I may have been paranoid.”
“No, you were right on the mark. Those men were not knocking on doors to talk to people, they were knocking to find a steel door. They appeared to leave because they found it. How many—”
“Now you’re the paranoid one,” Baldwin said.
“With good reason. Now listen. I talked to Standish. The Egyptians have been surveilling Hope Ranch in the hope of catching sight of us. Just like they cruised our home and the station. The security company told them they had recently done work in that complex. Probably described it. When they read the news story this morning, they decided that before shifting their search to Westwood Village, they’d give Hope Ranch a last try. This time they didn’t cruise the neighborhood, they knocked on doors to identify the specific unit. Trish … they know where you are.”
“You can’t know this,” Baldwin said.
Before Evarts could answer, Wilson said, “It fits.”
“Maybe I made a biased judgment based on the color of their skin.”
“Trish, the Egyptians were observed surveilling Hope Ranch,” Evarts said firmly. “Don’t wish this away.”
“Shit,” Baldwin said. After a pause, she added, “Okay. What do we do?”
“Are you still in the bedroom?”
“Yes.”
“To our knowledge, there are only four of them. They’ll need explosives or more people to assault a fortified apartment. I suspect they left to get one or the other. Let the police verify that they’re gone before coming out of the bedroom. Stay inside the apartment and tell the officers I’ll be there in moments.”
He ended the call and speed dialed Standish. He had not encountered any Highway Patrol. Where the hell was a cop when you needed one?
Standish answered. “Yeah, chief?”
He gave her a quick rundown of the situation.
“Have you been in town the whole time,” Standish asked at the end.
“Arrived Friday. I was debating coming in tomorrow.”
“Might as well. The whole force knows you’re in town and in trouble.”
“Gathered that. Even if it had been kept quiet, it would be blown as soon as Trish opens the door to the officers.”
“Just a sec.” She was quiet for a few moments. When she came back on, she said, “Patrols report no individuals in the apartment complex fit the description. One set of officers will make a swing through the rest of Hope Ranch and the other is on its way to interview your wife.”
“Tell them ETA ten minutes.”
“Will do.”
They ended the call and Evarts pulled out of the emergency lane and merged with traffic. He took a deep breath and tried to put himself in the head of the terrorist. What did they know for certain? They knew someone had hardened an apartment during the right time frame. They now knew which apartment. Is there any way they could know for certain that it was their apartment? Crap. They could look up the property tax record to discover the owner’s name and then a quick Google search would reveal that she was a professor at UCSB. They could probably also find out that she was on a foreign exchange gig for a year. That kind of information was probably in the school paper and on the University’s webpage. That would be enough. They would know they had found their hiding place. Were they currently living there or in Westwood Village? Evarts felt a little more comfortable. There was no way for them to know for certain.
He called Standish again.
“Did you see the news article about us vacationing in Westwood Village?”
“No, but I just heard about it. Is that where you’ve been?”
“No, that was a ruse to draw them away from Santa Barbara. Listen, did the Egyptians ever talk about Westwood Village.”
“I’ll ask the wiretap team. Hold on.”
The phone went silent.
Evarts was entering the outskirts of Santa Barbara when she came back online.
“Bad news, I’m afraid. They talked daily with another search team. The other team once mentioned that they were going to the Bruin to see a movie.”
“Shit.”
The Bruin was a Westwood Village movie house.
“Chief, the same reason that made Westwood Village a good diversion also made it a logical search site.”
“Yeah, I was too clever by half.”
“They know you’re here,” Standish said.
Chapter 81
As Evarts drove, he continued to assess the situation from the terrorists’ perspective. The Ikhwan knew the apartment had been hardened, probably knew about converting the bedroom to a safe room. They had the lay of the land and would probably conclude that they needed explosives or more people. Probably both. The people would come from Westwood Village. Ninety miles, two hours or more in traffic. He looked at his watch and guessed they had three hours at most. How would they do it? The Ikhwan were not into subtle. He guessed a bomb. It had been the weapon of choice in D.C., and they had no reservations about collateral damage. They’d blow up a good section of the apartment complex. Never underestimate the attractiveness of a weapon that allows you to panic everyone in proximity to the carnage.
He needed to set a trap. Did they know he was on to them? They should have no reason to believe he was anticipating an attack. Damn, he was underestimating them again. He believed they would never find him in Hope Ranch. Even if they did, he never believed they would discover his exact whereabouts within the community. He had even believed that he could lure them to Westwood Village. Assume the worst. They know he knows, and they’ll anticipate a counter-strategy.
He pulled into Hope Ranch and cruised the entire community first. He spotted nothing untoward, so he pulled into the complex of apartment buildings. He parked next to a squad car with the door open and a cop sitting sideways, with his feet resting on the asphalt. If the Ikhwan had a way to surveil the building, the police presence would surely ruin any chance of surprise. His officer was talking on the radio. Oh, hell. It hit Evarts like a thunderbolt. They had the Egyptians under surveillance but hadn’t considered the reverse. The Egyptians could easily listen to them on a police scanner. He had to assume that the cat was out of the bag.
Evarts jumped out of the car just as his officer finished his transmission.
“Were you reporting on the interview?” Evarts asked.
“Yes, sir. I also reported that we didn’t find any males knocking on doors. We’re going to do another drive-thru as soon as my partner comes out, but I believe they’re gone.”
“Me too,” Evarts said. “Forego the drive-through and return to your regular patrol. We don’t want to needlessly alarm the residents.”
“Yes, sir.”
Evarts climbed the stairs to the second floor and was surprised to see Standish talking to someone standing inside the apartment. When he got close enough, he saw that it was the patrolman’s partner.
“Commander, everything all right?” Evarts asked.
“Yes, sir. I wanted to check security, but officer Paterson says you already hardened the premises.”
“Yeah, and that’s what gave away our presence. Dumb mistake.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Standish said.
“I’ll explain inside. Officer Paterson, are you through here?”
“I’m sorry, sir, but I thought it would be appropriate to interview you.”
Evarts smiled. The officer looked nervous as hell. “As you should.
But I want to see my wife and her friend to ensure that everything’s okay. I’ll come to the station shortly for a statement and give it to a detective.”
As intended, Paterson took that as a dismissal and left.
He followed Standish into the apartment and motioned the three women to the dining table. Before sitting himself, he stepped into the bedroom and checked the cameras. He saw nothing moving except the patrol car as it drove away.
As he sat, Evarts said, “We don’t have much time. The Ikhwan will either return soon with explosives or wait a couple hours for their countrymen to arrive from Westwood Village. My bet is that they won’t wait. They know we’re inside the apartment and an IED doesn’t require a big crew. So, here’s—”
“Why a bomb? And how would they know we’re inside the apartment?” Baldwin asked. “Are they watching the unit?”
“We must assume they’re listening to a police scanner. Have been all along. When I drove up, the officer outside was making a report and I’m sure he told them that I just drove up.” Evarts turned to Standish. “Do we know if they have explosives?”
“Not in the motel rooms, but my bet is they stashed something before checking in.”
“Where?” Evarts asked.
“State Street Storage?” Standish asked in an unsure tone. “It’s close to their motel.”
“My guess as well,” Evarts said. “Ten-minute drive. Twenty, round trip. Say fifteen to gather up and ready materials, and it’s been about fifteen minutes since they left.” He made eye contact with each of the women. “That would mean they could be back here ready to rock and roll in as little as twenty minutes. Possibly less.”
“Crap!” Wilson said.
“What’s the plan?” Standish asked.
“What makes you think I have one?” Evarts asked.
“You always have a plan … and you’re leaning forward like you do when you’re about to rattle off orders.”
Evarts smiled. “Correct. This is my city, and I won’t allow an explosion that could hurt civilians. We’re going to draw them into an ambush away from the apartment buildings. Simple plan. Standish and I will pull her cruiser in front of them at the entrance. Siren, lights. Sergeant, you’ll be positioned on foot outside the entrance with the M-4 from the bedroom. Trish, you’ll wait on Modoc Road by the underpass. When you spot the Egyptians, follow them, and give us verbal readings on their progress. All communications by phone. Use the car with the surfboard on top. It will look ordinary for this locale. I want you to give us a countdown on the phone when they’re within seconds of driving through the arch at the entrance to Hope Ranch. Commander, have two cruisers staged to pull in behind the Egyptians to block their escape. I want another two inside to back us up. Have them here in five minutes or they wait out of sight off Modoc Road. Do it by phone right now.”
Standish stepped away from the table to make the call.
“Trish, here’s the dangerous part. If the police cruisers don’t show up in time, I want you to pull straight in behind the terrorists to block their exit. Don’t get out of the car, and if they start to ram you, don’t speed away. Take the impact. They’ll hit you a glancing blow to spin you out of the way. Your seatbelt and airbag will protect you. You’re safest inside the car. Are you okay with that?”
“If they shoot at me?”
“I’ll send them to kingdom come.”
She smiled. “Attaboy.”
Standish returned with a nod to indicate that the police backup had been ordered.
“Commander, go to your car radio and report that we’re vacating the premises in thirty minutes. Tell them you’ll be escorting us to our destination. That’s to hurry them up and bring them in hot. We want them to believe the quarry is about to fly the coop: That they’ll miss their target unless they get back here fast.” He turned his attention to Wilson. “Diane, I assume they’ll fire on us. If they do, we’re gonna duck instead of returning fire.” He paused just a short moment. “Your job, sergeant, is to take them out. Can you do that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Trish. If the police arrive in time, after your countdown, make a u-ie and get the hell out of there.”
She stared at him unblinking.
“I need an affirmative grunt, nod, or word,” Evarts said.
She nodded, but her expression looked defiant.
Evarts asked, “Questions?”
“Just one,” Standish said. “How do we avoid getting killed.”
“First, we don’t block them horizontally. Line up with them bumper to bumper. If they shoot, we drop to the knee well behind the engine block. So, be ready to release your harness. If they attempt to ram us, punch it, and hit them head on. Meet force with force. We’ll rely on the harnesses and air bags to protect us. Beyond that, we put our faith in Sergeant Wilson.”
Standish looked Wilson in the eye. “Sergeant, can you handle an M-4 well enough to take out four assailants?”
“Yes.”
Standish smiled. “Then I guess we better gear up and get in position.”
Chapter 82
Evarts and Standish waited quietly with the motor idling. They were parked out of sight in her cruiser about fifty yards from the arch that marked the entrance to Hope Ranch. Each wore Pro-Tac vests rated to stop handgun rounds and military grade ballistic helmets. The protective equipment had been staged in the apartment with an assortment of firearms. They each carried two handguns hung under their arms in shoulder holsters. Shotguns loaded with 12-gauge 00 shells laid within reach on the floorboard, but tight quarters would probably dictate handguns.
Three of the squad cars had arrived on time. One was directly behind them to provide backup, and two more were positioned outside the arch to block an escape toward the freeway. When it arrived, the requested fourth car would assume a picket position near the freeway in case the Egyptians broke through the blockade.
Evarts held a cell phone to his ear.
“Trish, anything?”
“Nothing.”
Damn. He checked his watch again. It had been twenty-two minutes. Maybe they had smelled a trap. Hopefully, he had underestimated the timing.
“Why put Trish in danger?” Standish asked.
“It’s the least dangerous job I could give her. If I left her out, she’d be pissed.”
She nodded. “What do you think they’ll do?”
He shrugged. “They’ll surrender or fight. I want to be ready for either.” After a moment, he added, “These aren’t criminals like those Baltimore crews. These are honest-to-God terrorists. In truth, I don’t expect them to surrender.”
“Car coming,” Baldwin said into his ear. After a stress-charged pause, she added, “It’s them. Moving quick. Four males. Following.”
After a couple minutes, Evarts said, “Listening for your signal.”
Nothing. And then, “5, 4, 3, 2, now! Go!”
Standish stomped the throttle, while Evarts hit the siren and lights. As the car emerged onto the road, Standish expertly spun the steering wheel, so the cars aligned for a head-on collision. The Egyptians feinted to the left, but Standish kept the grills aligned. The distance closed fast. They were almost to the Arch. Time to decide.
Fight, flee, or surrender.
The oncoming car abruptly screeched to a halt. Then the front tires smoked and wailed as they accelerated in reverse. Standish came to an emergency stop. Behind the Egyptians, two squad cars had pulled out to establish a barricade across lanes in either direction. A glance told Evarts that Trish was nowhere in sight. On their side of the arch, another police cruiser pulled beside them to block passage in the outbound lane. The suspect car screech to another stop. It sat a moment. Evarts saw heads swiveling inside the car. Another decision. Forward, backward, or fight in place.
Evarts switched on the cruiser’s loudspeaker. “Put your hands where we can see them. Now! You cannot escape.”
Seconds ticked by. They seemed like minutes. Evarts repeated the command to surrender.
Suddenly, there was a flurry of movement in the car. Oh, shit! Evarts and Standish released their harnesses and dropped into the knee well just as Evarts heard the windshield shattered from a spray of bullets. Squealing tires. Evarts braced for impact. When it happened, it was little more than a hard bump. Evarts lifted, pistol at the ready. The cars were bumper to bumper. He saw the Egyptians right in front of him. One had a cratered, gory face and the other’s head rested against a blood-splattered side window. His attention shifted to the two in back. One appeared to be fiddling with something in his lap. When the terrorist looked up, Evarts saw unbridled fear in his eyes. He grabbed Standish by her upper arm and jerked her back into the knee well. Just as his head went below the dash, he felt a crushing blow to his shoulder. Then a massive explosive noise.
Then nothing.
Chapter 83
Evarts woke in a hospital bed. His eyes roomed around the room. Empty. How long had he been unconscious? How bad was he injured? His shoulder hurt like hell. He tried to lift his head, but even the slightest motion worsened an ache that made his head feel twice the size. One arm was laying across his chest in a restraint. With effort he moved each hand and then foot. Did he really move them or did his nerves send false signals? He lifted his restrained hand enough to see it and felt relief to observe moving fingers. Now the other hand. All good, so far. With a mighty effort he lifted his head. Way down there, a million miles away, two sets of toes wiggled under a blanket. His head gratefully fell back against the pillow. Everything appeared intact. But the pain in his shoulder? He lifted his free hand and felt above his breast, then he gingerly passed his hand over his entire chest. No holes, no bandages. He was whole.
The door opened. Trish wore a big smile, carrying coffee. Thank God.
The Templar Reprisals (The Best Thrillers Book 3) Page 33
