Billy Melrose
Despite the dire situation, Billy couldn’t help laughing at the confused looks on Joe and Carrie King’s faces. “What?” he asked them. “Did you really think I thought they would stay put?”
Carrie found her voice first. “You threatened to put them in —”
“He had to do that,” said Amanda, who was already retrieving gear from the back of the minivan. “If he’d meant it, he’d have had a guard on that back stairwell too.”
“Half the folks in our section have children,” Billy explained. “Including me. I knew no parent could ever have been expected to stay behind. But,” and now the amusement dropped out of his tone, “you two are to stay back and away from the action, no matter what happens. If Lee or Amanda or anyone else on the team gives you an order, do it first and ask questions later. Are we clear?”
Joe nodded, indicating the holstered pistol in his hand.
“Just hold on to that right now,” said Billy. “Pray you won’t need it. Scarecrow, Sunlight, you set?”
Amanda nodded as she slung a bag over her shoulder. “Sir, where’s Francine? We need our assignments.”
“I have them. Code word is ‘lasso,’ and you’re six and seven.”
That got Lee’s attention. “We have that many out here?”
“It’s Zeta and Jamie,” answered Billy. “They’re two of ours, and a kid to boot. I was beating ’em off with a stick. Van’s over that way.”
Lee slammed the minivan hatch shut. “I’m going in with you.”
Billy shook his head. “Negative. Lasso One wants you held in reserve, and she sent me to make sure that happens.” He pointed. “Both of you go. Now. And take Dally One and Dally Two with you,” he continued as he pointed to Joe and Carrie in turn.
He made sure they were trotting toward the communication van before slipping back around to crouch beside Francine and Jenkins. Beaman and Duffy, he knew, had had time by now to get into position on the other side of the hangar doors. He counted fifteen seconds before he saw the mirror flash confirming it.
“Your show, Lasso One,” he told Francine.
She nodded and keyed her handheld. “Ready. Three, two, one — go!”
They moved quickly and quietly, forming a perimeter around the hangar door and the main entrance, which were located next to each other. Once she was satisfied, Francine nodded and beckoned to Jenkins. He reached over to twist the handle on the main entrance; the door opened silently. Francine was there immediately, covering him, and they vanished out of sight as they leap-frogged in toward whatever location they’d identified.
Billy’s handheld came to life. “This is Lasso Seven,” said Amanda’s voice. “Pickup One advises a vehicle arriving on the airstrip side. Plates coming back stolen.”
Great, thought Billy. It was going to be just as well that they had such a large team out here.
“Also a sentry going toward that area,” continued Amanda. “I still have visual. He’s carrying what looks like an M-16.”
It could also, Billy realized, be a StG 44. The two could be mistaken for each other from a distance. He swore under his breath. “Lasso One, Lasso Three. You copy that? Could be blown already.”
“Acknowledged,” answered Francine, but there were no sounds after that. He held still, weapon trained on the hangar doors, counting breaths to stay focused. Thirty-two of them elapsed before there was a metallic groan and the hangar door shook. Billy stiffened his stance, ready for whatever was about to come out, but then there was the sound of a gunshot and the door stayed put.
“Status!” he barked into his handheld.
“Locked office door, north side, central,” answered Jenkins. “We’re advancing.”
Another gunshot sounded, followed immediately by a third. He, Beaman, and Duffy exchanged glances across the ramp.
Amanda’s voice broke in again. “Something’s coming out that north window!”
Beaman, who was closest, took off at a run, not bothering with stealth as he rounded the building corner. “It’s a shirt!” he yelled on the radio. “Dirt or oil smeared on it. Shape of a two. Ah, damn it —” there was a burst of machine-gun fire. “Lasso Five to all units. I’m fine, but pinned down. Shirt’s still out there. Looks like a woman’s.”
Good information, but not enough. Was it, in fact, from Zeta or Jamie? Did the numeral mean both of them were there, or that there were two more attackers? Another curse slipped from Billy’s lips.
Another spate of gunfire from inside the hangar, and then Jenkins’ voice came through on the handheld. “One bronco’s roped, but there’s some smoke and visibility’s bad. He blew the lights before we got him. Moving forward.”
“Do you need backup?” asked Amanda.
No response. Billy wavered. This was Francine’s operation, so it should be her call, but —
There was another burst of machine-gun fire from the direction Beaman had gone, followed by two quick single shots.
Duffy caught Billy’s eye, pointing at the hangar door. It was shaking again. They burst forward together, running toward it even as, with another metallic groan, it began creeping upward.
“Federal agents!” yelled Duffy. “Freeze!”
The door kept moving. Billy could see movement inside the hangar itself.
“Lasso Three, Lasso Two,” called Jenkins. “You see this?”
“I see it,” answered Billy, his eyes also tracking Duffy’s movements. “Where are you?”
“Other side of the hangar from you. It’s an ultra-light. Lasso One’s still trying to get into that office and — oh hell!” There was another exchange of gunfire from inside, and then five long seconds of silence. When Jenkins came back on the line, he was breathing heavily. “There’s a third bronco in here! Must’ve been under cover.” A pause. “I’m down. Thigh shot. Lasso One needs backup.”
“This is Lasso Six,” answered Lee. “ETA twenty seconds.”
The hangar door was now fully open. “Come on out of there!” called Duffy. “Slowly. Hands up!”
There was a buzzing noise. It took Billy a second to recognize the sound as a propeller. He dropped into a crouch, sighting toward the movement he’d seen earlier. Duffy mirrored him as the ultra-light plane came out of the hangar and passed through the late-afternoon shadows into daylight.
“Stop now!” hollered Billy. “I’ll shoot if I have to.”
Whoever was piloting the thing didn’t even slow down. After exchanging a quick glance with Duffy, they squeezed off two shots each. There was a loud crack and a splintering noise, and Billy found himself ducking shrapnel from the disintegrating propeller. Duffy was already belly-crawling forward, keeping his weapon at the ready. The cockpit door was on Duffy’s side, so Billy skewed his own approach as he went in, careful to stay out of the pilot’s line of sight.
Duffy suddenly stood up and yanked the cockpit door open. There was a brief scuffle as he pulled the pilot out roughly. It was actually too rough and unsteady; he overcompensated, and the pilot took advantage of the opening to knock him down, twist free, and take off running. Duffy bounced back onto his feet and gave chase.
The plane was still moving. Billy rolled under it, careful of the wheels, and jumped into the cockpit. Stopping the plane’s forward motion was easy enough; there were pedals on the floor, just like a car. He was less certain how to actually shut the thing down. Taking a deep breath, he started flipping switches on the control panel. Surely it wouldn’t be too difficult to hit the right one!
At the third toggle, the engine powered down, but there was a sudden smell of gasoline. Had a bullet hit a tank? Was this thing in danger of exploding? He slid back out of the plane and did a quick visual check. There didn’t seem to be any bullet holes in the body, although there was one in the windshield and another in a tire that had gone flat. What was he smelling, then? Did he even have time to search anyway?
“This is Lasso Four. Pilot from the plane is neutralized.”
“Good,” answered Billy. “I can’t tell if this plane is safe or not. It’s stopped and the engine’s off, but I smell fuel.”
“Did you shut down the fuel feed?” asked Lee over the radio.
“I don’t know.” He climbed back into the cockpit and started flipping switches again. There was a kind of sigh, and then the smell of fuel began to dissipate. “All right, got it now.” He leaned back to catch his breath; he really was getting too old for this. “Lasso Five?”
“Still pinned,” reported Beaman. “Two broncos now. I think one of ’em was in the car.”
“Lasso One? Two? Six?”
The only answer was another muffled exchange of gunfire from somewhere inside the hangar building. Abandoning the plane, Billy took off at a dead run, but he hadn’t made it three steps before he saw a sudden movement near the building’s exterior entrance.
Oh, no. There wasn’t enough time to get there.
“King!” he shouted. “Step back and stand down!”
Joe didn’t even acknowledge hearing the order before yanking the door open and barreling through. Billy pushed himself as hard as he could manage, running on instinct as the light transitioned from outdoor sunlight to indoor gloom. He caught Joe as he was starting to open an internal door, snagging his wrist and yanking downward as hard as he could. They crashed to the floor in a heap.
“Stand down, damn it!” panted Billy. This was one of the most dangerous situations a law enforcement officer could face: an armed parent whose child had been threatened. “I need cover but you’re no good to me like this!”
Joe climbed back to his feet, wild-eyed. “Cover? Cover? From my son?”
“From whoever else is inside there! I don’t —” his breathing caught, and he coughed hard for a second. Joe made a break for the door he’d been trying to open but Billy was able to recover and bring his weapon up. “Don’t make me! For God’s sake, man, don’t make me have to stop you!”
The other man went still, his eyes even wider than they had been, and for a long moment they simply stared at each other. Switching to a one-handed stance, Billy brought his handheld up. “Lasso Two! You still with us?”
Jenkins’ voice was weak, and the words were beginning to slur. “Kinda. Getting lightheaded.”
“Stay with me just a little longer. How many broncos are in there?”
“Um…ah, one down. Won’t be getting back up. Scarecrow’s…” there was a loud crash. “Make that two broncos down. They’re going for that locked door.”
Billy yanked open the door from the reception area and sprinted through, Joe only a step behind. Francine was hammering at the knob with the butt of her gun. “Steel door, deadbolt,” she reported. “Couldn’t pick it.”
Lee got back to his feet. “Step back. We’ll do this together.” He motioned a three-count and they kicked hard at the same time. The door quivered but held.
“Again!” ordered Billy, joining them. He was vaguely aware of Joe on Francine’s other side but had no time to comment before they kicked again. This time, the door shook hard, and it looked like it might not have been enough, but at the last second two hinges broke. The door’s own weight pulled it free of its third hinge. It fell forward, landing on the floor with a metallic clang.
Francine was just a hair faster than Lee getting through. “Zeta!”
“In here! I’m — the kid’s —”
Billy followed them into the room. Jamie was tied to a cot, a shirtless Zeta yanking at the ropes. Lee dove in with his switchblade and cut them in a few quick swipes. “Jamie!”
“Lee!” The youth bounced up and into his arms.
Billy reached back to pull Joe forward but was stopped by the sound of machine-gun fire from far too close. Everyone froze.
“Good move,” said the newcomer, who was standing in the doorway. He lowered his rifle to cover everyone in the room. “And how nice of you to all confine yourselves so neatly.”
“We have backup outside,” warned Francine. “And more on the way.”
“Your ‘backup’ is trapped against the side of this building.” The new assailant gestured with the rifle’s muzzle. “Weapons on the floor, please, and kick them away from you.”
There didn’t seem to be any other option besides compliance. Exchanging glances, the three of them — Billy, Lee, and Francine — did as they’d been told.
“Good. Very good. We now have five hostages instead of —”
At the crack of another gunshot, their assailant went down without completing the sentence. Blood began gushing out of a wound in his back.
Joe’s arms shook as he lowered the pistol he’d fired. “I ducked down before he saw me. And I’ve never — never actually fired one of these at someone —”
“Easy there.” Billy stepped forward, relieving Joe of the weapon. “Look who we’ve —”
“Dad!” Jamie flung himself from Lee’s embrace into Joe’s. “You’re here!”
“— found,” finished Billy quietly before keying his handheld again. “Inside’s secure. Status outside?”
“Clear.” Beaman’s voice was tired, but alert, and came from directly behind him. “Fielder came for backup after Duffy got to the van. He got the one who still had me pinned down.”
In the storeroom beyond, Francine had taken off her jacket to wrap around the bra-clad Zeta. Beaman, who’d been in the corridor, knelt down next to the now semi-conscious Jenkins. Fielder was also there, checking on the enemy operative who’d come in last and then looking up with a shake of his head.
Billy gave himself the luxury of three deep, long, cleansing breaths before keying back onto the line to call the all-clear.