windows. The bigger man clamped his hand over her mouth and dragged her toward the rear of the van.
The gunman hadn’t advanced.
He watched in admiration as she drove the back of her head into her assailant’s nose and stomped down on his foot.
She jerked free and bolted toward him.
The gunman cursed in Spanish and took off in pursuit.
Big Kid needed to time his move precisely. With a wrecked shoulder, he couldn’t do much, but at least he could help her escape. The problem was staying alive, and he didn’t like his odds. If he only had his Beretta. He could end this with two quick head shots. Big Kid had many faults, but cowardice wasn’t one of them. He’d never be able to live with himself if he didn’t help this woman, even if it cost him his life.
Steady. Steady.
Now!
He swept his foot and tripped the gunman.
Arms whirling, the gunman went down. He managed to land on his elbows, but his momentum drove his face into the concrete.
Big Kid had the satisfaction of seeing the gunman’s nose explode. The pistol clattered away. He gained his feet and lunged for the weapon. He was inches from reaching it when multiple gunshots deafened him. Two hard blows struck his rib cage. Despite being shot twice more, he grabbed the gun and pivot toward the van.
A fourth bullet nailed him squarely in the stomach.
Determined to stay in the fight, he brought the handgun up and took aim at the shooter. He squeezed off a shot, but missed. The report hammered his eardrums.
Like something out of hell, a harbinger of death materialized through the smoke and dust. His eyes grew as a red laser beam swept onto the middle of his torso…
And stopped.
His legs quit as the fifth bullet ripped through his large intestine and shattered his spinal column. Paralyzed, he fell forward like an expertly cut tree. His jaw struck the concrete with a sickening crack. Barely conscious, he watched in fury as the gunman ran past him and grabbed the woman.
The van’s tires squealed as the driver backed up.
Right on top of him.
His body contorted into an impossible position when his chest caught on the differential. Crushed beneath the van, he saw the woman’s legs and feet leave the ground as her assailant threw her into the van. He sensed their combined weight added to the vehicle, heard the doors close, and steeled himself for the agony of being dragged.
The van accelerated and Big Kid’s body bent and broke again. He tried to scream, but couldn’t draw any air into his lungs. Fifty yards further the van hit a speed bump and freed him from the differential. Broken and dying, he tried to call for help. Nothing came out.
The last thing decorated Enduring Freedom veteran Kiddrich thought as his life ended was,
Chapter 7
Nathan watched General Hawthorne’s C-20G, more commonly known as a Gulfstream IV, taxi up to the transient parking area in front of the jet center. He knew Harv was thinking the same thing,
It felt good to see his former commander again, even under the circumstances. Thorny’s no-nonsense expression hadn’t changed over the years. He still looked as though the weight of the world remained planted on his shoulders. Nathan had never known the man to back away from a fight. Thorny, nearly eight inches shorter, seemed taller than his actual height. At sixty-two, he didn’t look a day over fifty, except for his hair color, but at least he still had it. His aide looked equally crisp and professional, just thirty years his junior. They were both dressed in summer attire-desert Marine pattern-Thorny’s preferred appearance. Were it not for the four black stars on his rank patch, he could easily pass for a sergeant major, not the Marine Corps’ top dog. Thorny entered through the automatic sliding glass doors, and out of habit they both saluted.
Their former commander extended his hand. “You’re civilians now. Get your damned hands down.”
Nathan suppressed a smile. “Aye, aye sir.”
“Damn, it’s good to see you two.”
“The same, sir.”
“Harvey, you’re looking fit as ever.”
“Thank you, General.”
“This is my aide, Major Bob Halliday. He’s not a Robert, like me. It actually says
“Major,” Nathan said, pumping his hand. Harvey did the same.
“Please, call me Bob.”
“How was your flight?” Nathan asked.
“Comfortable. It’s a nice ride.” Thorny lowered his voice. “Maybe too comfortable.”
Harv said, “There’s nothing like a cross-country flight in a herky bird’s jump seat.”
“Amen to that. Is your vehicle clean?”
“Yes, we did a sweep of Harv’s Mercedes yesterday. Mine’s in the bat cave as we speak.”
“The bat cave?”
“It’s the nickname for our countermeasures garage.”
Showing no reaction, Thorny said, “Let’s take a drive.”
Three minutes later, Harv turned right onto Pacific Coast Highway and accelerated into traffic. Seconds from touchdown, a commercial jet roared over their sedan.
“Harv, how are the wife and kids? Candace, Lucas, and… shit.”
“It’s Dillon.” Harvey made a left onto Laurel Street. “But ‘shit’ isn’t too far off the mark at times. They’re doing great, thank you for asking. Lucas graduates from high school this year. I think he’s going to enlist. He wants to be a sniper. Army, though.”
“Army? You’re screwing with me.”
“Afraid not, General. He likes the Army.”
“Well, if he must.… I’ll personally follow his career.”
“He’s a good student, OCS material, but he wants to be a sniper. I haven’t discouraged him from pursuing it.”
“You have anything to do with that, Nate?”
“Lucas is a good kid. I had a heart-to-heart talk with him about what it’s really like. For a while, he reconsidered, but I’m pretty sure he’s going to do it.”
“If he’s anything like his old man, he’ll do fine.”
“Thank you, sir,” Harv said.
Nathan looked out the window. Time to change the subject. “I’m going to be frank, General. If Montez
“Agreed. I can’t think of a better team. Nobody knows Montez better. On the flight out here I reread your debrief.”
Harvey crossed Sixth Avenue, heading for the Cabrillo Bridge.
“I’ll be honest, sir, this is a major skeleton for me. Harv too. I-” Nathan broke off in midsentence. This wasn’t a discussion he wanted to pursue in Major Halliday’s company.
