Dead Six

fumbling at my vest for a reload. There were a lot more bad guys than I had expected, but they were being hit from multiple directions. Jill was crouched behind me. I made eye contact and gestured violently toward the window. We had to get out of here. “I’ll cover you,” I said as I slammed the magazine home and slapped the bolt release.

“Quit shooting! Stop it!” Eddie was screeching. The random gunfire tapered off and died. “I need him alive!”

“Go!” I shouted to Jill, leaned out, and fired in the direction of Eddie’s voice. There was a rusted truck parked near the main door, and it sounded like he had come from behind it. I stitched a line of impacts across the truck body, the clang of hot lead on metal louder than my suppressor. Jill sprang up and pushed her way through the window. Within seconds, multiple rifles opened up on my position. I fired until she disappeared, going clear through my second magazine.

“Damn it!” Eddie shrieked. “I said quit shooting! Next one of you wankers shoots at him and I’ll slit your throat myself! Lorenzo!” I pulled back, reloading again. I could feel the heat rising from my rifle. “Listen to me carefully. I just want what’s mine. I don’t care about you.”

Red laser dots flashed on the far wall. Bright flashlights illuminated the doorway. If I tried to move, I was dead. Rather than fire and maneuver, I’d allowed myself to get pinned down. At least Jill had gotten out. “Bob, the hostage just went out the window. Cover her. I’m stuck,” I whispered. There was no response. I grasped my radio. The box had been smashed by a round. Damn.

“I’m listening, Eddie,” I shouted back. The gunfire outside continued. It sounded like the others were busy. “What’re you offering?”

“Give me the scarab, you and all your people walk, and I pay you double.”

“Sounds tempting,” I lied. We were dog food the second he had it. I didn’t dare stick my head around the corner, and I couldn’t try to move across the doorway. There was a large piece of broken mirrored glass on the floor. Grabbing it, I held it up and used it to peer around the corner.

“Yes, it is tempting. We both know you’re stuck, and it won’t take too many bullets to carve through that wall. My associate is setting up a belt-fed as we speak. . . .” There was a sudden burst of much louder gunfire, and the wall above me exploded into shrapnel. The sound was horrendous. The gun fired so fast it was like a buzzsaw. I covered my head and tried to make myself as small as possible as I was pelted with jagged bits. The poodle yelped. “Hush now, Precious, the bad man won’t scare you anymore,” Eddie soothed. “You’ve got ten seconds, Lorenzo.”

Moving the broken shard of glass, I scanned the garage. Multiple bright weapon-mounted lights shined back at me, and there was the Fat Man, a terrifying German MG3 machine gun on a bipod resting on the old truck hood, pointed right at me. I coughed as more dust settled onto my face. Hopefully Jill and the others would make it out of here, because I didn’t think that I would.

But at least I could take Eddie with me. “I’ve got to know. What is it? Why is it so important?” If I could keep him talking, maybe I could figure out where he hiding.

“Is Willis around?” Eddie asked. “Or any of his men?”

“No, sir. He took off running into those old buildings,” a voice behind one of the bobbing weapon lights answered.

“Well, chap, you might as well know. Gordon and I may be from rival organizations, but I’m helping him accomplish something for his employers, and in turn he’s helping me get the position I so rightfully deserve among my peers. And you are going to help keep me there. The thing you stole? It isn’t even for me. There’s a certain individual, who even I am scared of, and he’d do anything to get that scarab. Now quit stalling. Time’s up, Lorenzo. Where . . . is . . . my . . . property?”

The scarab was sitting in a Velcro pouch on my armor. I held the AR tight and did one last pass with my makeshift mirror: three lighted weapons trained on my position, and a belt-fed machine gun. It was Butch and Sundance time.

Then there was another reflection shifting in the glass, the flash of a pink waitress dress creeping up behind the Fat Man.

Oh, please no.

No time to think. I sprang up, muzzle rising as I heard the brraaappp noise of the little MP5 in Jill’s hands on full-auto. The Fat Man jerked as her bullets stitched up his side. The MG3 fired wildly past me, tearing a gash of dust and pulverized cinder block up the wall. My Aimpoint settled on the first weapon mounted light and I fired twice, shifting immediately to the next light and firing again.

I was blinded by the scalding beams, burning bullets zipping around me, through my clothing, feeling them parting my hair, buzzing past like angry bees. There was the third light, dancing with muzzle flashes, and I pulled the trigger twice more. Jill was shouting as she fired.

One of the lights was weaving, a shadow appearing behind it. My gun moved back toward him, but I tripped on some debris, sprawling forward, jerking the trigger as I went, supersonic lead filling the empty air where I’d just been. The other light swung upward, briefly illuminating the bloody ceiling as the man holding it went down. The Fat Man grunted under the impacts as Jill shot him again, and finally he and the heavy machine gun disappeared behind the truck.

There was only one weapon light shining now, swinging wildly toward Jill. We fired at the same time. The bulb shattered.

The room went dark

I gasped for breath as the filthy dust stirred. My good ear was ringing from the gunfire, but above that I could hear a man crying and the sounds of someone breathing froth through a torn-open chest.

This time the flashlight piercing the darkness was mounted to my gun. “Jill!” I shouted. I only activated the light for a split second to find my way, then it was back out to avoid being a target and I was moving to the truck and the last place I’d seen her.

“Lorenzo!” she hissed at me. “Over here.”

I found her in the dark, kneeling behind some rusted junk. The empty MP5 had been tossed, and she had a pistol in her hands. She flinched as my hand touched her shoulder, but at least she didn’t shoot me.

“Are you okay?” I whispered, crouching beside her. I didn’t know who was still alive in the garage.

“I’m okay.” She gestured at the Fat Man, his massive, sprawled, white-clad form standing out in the dark. “But he’s not. Shot him like ten times.”

I didn’t know why, but I hugged her then, held her tight, my face pressed into her soft neck, her dark, blood matted hair pressed against my cheek. That lasted for a few seconds as there was more high-powered rifle fire nearby, several back and forth volleys. The others were still fighting.

Back to business . . .

“Did you see which way Eddie went?”

“The one that looked like he came from an episode of I Love the Eighties, with the poodle?” I nodded, somehow in the dark she could tell. She pointed out the large front door. “He headed for those old buildings.”

I couldn’t let him get away. I stood, dropped my partially expended magazine, and drew a new one from my vest. “Head for the hills to the west. I have a friend out there. He’ll get you out of here.”

“I’m coming with you,” she answered defiantly.

“This isn’t a democracy. You’re—” Something stirred behind me, gliding into the garage, a shape with a weapon. I turned, pulling the rifle to my shoulder. The man was in my sights, but I knew I was too late.

We both froze. Guns raised, death only a tiny bit of pressure on a trigger away.

“Valentine,” I acknowledged, relieved, and lowered my carbine.

Valentine’s FAL hovered on me for just a fraction of a second. That son of a bitch, I thought. He’s actually thinking it over. I glared at him for an instant, daring him to pull the trigger. His expression changed almost imperceptibly and he lowered his weapon. “Is Jill okay?”

Before I could answer, Reaper swept into the room, trench coat billowing like something out of a bad vampire movie. Man, I hated that stupid coat. He grinned when he saw us. “I’m glad to see you guys. I’ve been trying to get you on the radio. Bob says that that van full of SWAT dudes has turned around and is on its way back. We’ve got to go.” Reaper shone his light around the room, seeing the multiple bodies and blood still dripping from the ceiling. “I love what you’ve done with the place.”