›› 0739 Hours
“Look, Victor, don’t panic,” Special Agent Urlacher said.
“I’m not panicked,” Victor replied as he watched the police invade the premises. That was the truth. He wasn’t panicked. He was angry.
“Good.”
“You said these men couldn’t touch me. You said you were gonna handle that. We had an agreement.”
“Based on what I knew of you when I cut the deal with you, they couldn’t touch you.”
“And now they can?”
“I don’t know,” Urlacher told him. “I’m working that out now. Why are they coming after you?”
“I don’t know,” Victor lied. He couldn’t help himself. Lying was a reflex action when dealing with cops. He’d done it all his life.
“I don’t think they have a leg to stand on,” Urlacher said. “But I’m headed there. Don’t say anything to these people until I do.”
“I won’t,” Victor agreed.
“And tell your men to keep their weapons holstered. Any shooting starts, this thing gets complicated really fast.”
“Sure.” Victor cursed. “Just you get here. Fast.” He hung up and shoved the phone into his pocket.
›› 0741 Hours
Tarlton almost died at the third door of the individual rooms along the second floor. The law enforcement group stood out in the oval hallway only a short distance from the steps they’d come up. Three other sets of steps mirrored the points of a compass.
Will stood behind Tarlton and saw the woman with the man in the room. Both of them were getting dressed hurriedly. The man held a Baggie of drugs that he was frantically trying to pour down the sink at the back of the room at the same time.
“Police!” Tarlton yelled. “Put the Baggie down and step back with-”
At that time, the young woman brought up the Colt. 357 Magnum she’d been holding. She had a good hold on the pistol and appeared to know what she was doing with it. She had Chinese tattoos inked along her forearms.
Will hooked a hand into the collar of Tarlton’s Kevlar vest and yanked the police chief back as he started to backpedal. Tarlton hadn’t seen the threat the woman offered until it was almost too late. Muscling the man out of the doorway smoothly and efficiently, Will pressed Tarlton into the wall just as the woman started firing.
The Magnum hollow points fragmented against the doorframe and blew splinters out into the hallway. The reports in the enclosed space were deafening. They punctuated the long scream the young woman loosed.
Will knew she was on drugs and stoned out of her mind. He’d noticed the wildness in her eyes. She wasn’t even totally aware of what she was doing.
Pressed up against the wall, Will gave silent thanks to God for allowing him to see the young woman’s movements. He’d been just as focused on the man at the back of the room as Tarlton was.
One of the deputies spun around the doorframe and lowered his semiautomatic into position. “Sheriff’s department!” he bellowed.
The young woman turned toward him.
The woman was out of bullets. Will knew that. The wheel gun she grasped so tightly only carried six rounds. She’d fired all of those into the doorframe. He’d counted out of habit.
The deputy reacted anyway. He looked young, eager, and afraid, which was always a bad combination.
“No!” Remy said and reached for the man. Evidently he’d counted the shots as well. “She’s out of-”
The young woman fired her weapon. Only the dry snap of the hammer striking the firing pin came out of the room.
Mesmerized by his own imagined brush with death, the deputy fired at the woman twice before Remy was able to grab his hands and pull the pistol up. The deputy fired two more shots into the ceiling. Remy bodychecked the man and took the weapon away.
But it was too late. Both bullets had struck the young woman. She stutter-stepped back and whipped around in a quarter turn. Blood poured down her right side.
“Stand down!” Tarlton roared. “Hold your fire!”
The biker at the back of the room dropped the Baggie and ran to the woman’s side.
Tarlton led the way into the room. He held his pistol before him and aimed at the biker. “Down on the floor!”
“You shot her!” The biker was young, probably in his early twenties. “Man, you didn’t have to shoot her!”
The biker was high enough that Will had to wonder if he’d even registered the fact that she’d shot at them first.
“Down!” Tarlton grabbed the man’s jacket collar and dragged him to one side. The police chief held the pistol back so it was out of reach. “Get on your face!”
“You killed her!” The biker cursed again in a voice loud enough that Will had no doubt the accusation carried around the oval hallway. “She’s dead!”
Remy dropped into position beside the woman. Blood soaked her side as Remy pulled on a pair of surgical gloves from the medical supplies in his combat harness. He put two fingers against the side of her neck and waited.
Then he looked up at Will. “I got a pulse.” He reached into other pockets and pulled out compresses.
Tarlton called in the shooting, then snapped handcuffs on the man whose back he was kneeling on. “They got an ambulance and the fire department rolling.”
“Anybody here got any medical training?” Remy asked.
One of the policemen raised his hand.
Remy tossed him a pair of surgical gloves. “Put those on. Let’s see if we can get the bleeding to stop.”
“You got this?” Will asked.
Without looking at him, Remy nodded. Max hovered at his side, gazing around anxiously. The Labrador had already set up a perimeter guard.
Will stepped back out into the hallway. Tarlton, finished with his prisoner, was at his heels.
Bikers emerged from the other rooms. Evidently a lot of them hadn’t awakened yet. They came out with guns and shotguns in hand.
“Police!” Will yelled with all the authority he could muster. Since he’d been one of the youngest XOs on an aircraft carrier, he’d learned to project his voice. “Put your weapons down immediately!”
The bikers didn’t follow his orders, and Will was certain the hallway was about to turn into a bloodbath.
Farther down, Victor Gant stepped into the hallway with a pistol in his fist.
“Gant!” Will yelled. “Tell them to put the guns down or this is going to go very badly.”
“For who?” Victor grinned at him with cold maliciousness. “Seems to me we got you outnumbered up here.”
“It’s not going to play out like that,” Will promised. “And you know it. We’re ready for this and your men are still getting it together. If this starts on your word, you’re the first man to go down.”
Victor hesitated for a moment. Will saw the indecision on the man’s face. Victor wanted to push the situation into a violent confrontation.
Will centered his shotgun’s sights over the man’s chest. He still wasn’t certain he’d gotten his point across. His finger curled over the trigger.
“You heard him,” Victor said without looking at anyone. “Put your weapons down and plant your faces on the floor.”
After he issued his command, Victor dropped to his face on the floor and waited quietly to be taken into custody.
Will went forward and cuffed him.
