24
Jamie huddled and shivered against Jack as they crouched in the brush. The car sat ten feet away. Keys in one hand, Glock in the other, Jack watched it through the downpour. The good part about the pounding rain was that it drowned out the sounds of their approach. The bad part was that he had no light, not even starlight, to scope out whoever was watching the car.
And someone had to be watching it.
He'd seen people do amazingly stupid things, but leaving a getaway vehicle unguarded… uh-uh. Jensen was calling the shots here—either on-site or over the phone—and Jensen was no dummy.
Above and behind them, the thud! of an explosion.
"What—?" Jamie started to say, but Jack clamped a hand over her mouth.
He tried to shut out the sound of the rain, the feel of it pelting his face and hair, tried to funnel everything into his eyes as he studied the area around the car. Movement on the far side of the road caught his eye. Was that—? Yeah, a man had stepped out of the trees and was crossing toward the car. He stopped by the hood.
His face was little more than a pale blur, but he seemed to be looking up the hill, waiting for whatever he'd heard to happen again.
It wouldn't. Jack had figured the bomb would go off sooner or later. He was glad it had happened now.
He put his lips against Jamie's ear and whispered, "Wait. Don't move."
Pulled out the car keys, then crouched and began to snake through the remaining brush toward the front of the car. The rain's loud tattoo on the hood and roof covered his approach. Reached the front bumper and moved around it until he was only a few feet from the sentry. Raised his Glock and hit the unlock button on the car remote. As the locks clicked up and the interior lights came on he leaped to his feet and caught the guy whirling toward the passenger compartment, pistol up and ready but pointed in the wrong direction.
"Freeze right there!" Jack shouted. "Freeze or I'll shoot you dead so help me!"
It sounded B-movie-ish, he knew, but what else do you say? However it sounded, it worked. The guy turned into a statue.
"Hold it just like that," Jack said as he came up behind him.
He pressed the muzzle of the Glock against the back of his neck, then pulled the pistol from his hand. It had the weight of a .45.
"Heavy artillery," he said as he stuck it in his waistband. "Who were you expecting?"
The guy had a pinched face and thin hair plastered against his scalp. He said nothing.
"Be a good TP and put your hands way up." Jack did a quick one-handed pat down but found no other weapon.
"Now… lie facedown in the middle of the road."
"Hey, come—"
Jack jammed the muzzle harder against his neck. "Look, Mr. Temple Paladin. You haven't done anything to me so I'm giving you a chance. One way or another you're gonna wind up facedown on the road. Now, you can be there breathing or you can be there not breathing. Makes no difference to me. Which'll it be?"
Without speaking he did a slow turn, took two steps, and stretched out facedown on the wet asphalt, arms extended at right angles from his body.
"Jamie!" he shouted. "Into the car!"
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a dim shape emerge from the brush and make a beeline for the passenger door.
"Over here! You're driving!"
"I d-don't think I can."
"You can and you will." He held out the keys. "Here. Get it started."
Jack never took his eyes off the man in the street. He'd been a little too agreeable. You don't argue with a man with a gun, sure, but this guy was playing it a little too meek and mild for one of Brady's enforcers. Might mean a lot of things, but to Jack it meant Mr. TP had a backup weapon, one he'd missed in his pat down. Probably in an ankle holster, just like Jack's AMT .380, but he hadn't wanted to risk squatting to check.
He felt the keys tugged from his hand, heard the car door open and close, the engine start.
He opened the rear door behind Jamie, found the window button and lowered it.
"Don't do anything stupid," he warned the guy, privately hoping he would.
Jack backed behind the door and moved his pistol into the open window space. He knelt on the back seat and slammed the door, keeping the TP covered all the time.
"Go!"
As soon as the car began to move the TP rolled over and—sure enough—reached for his ankle. Jack fired off three quick shots, hitting him twice. He kept an eye on his thrashing form until the car rounded a bend and he was out of sight.
"You shot him?" Jamie said.
"He had a second gun. Probably going to try for our tires."
"Did… did you kill him?"
"Hope not. Better for us if he's alive."