Authors: Richard Parry
“I play video games.
That’s a hobby.”
John gestured at the bodies on the ground.
“This isn’t a hobby.
Unless it’s the expert level of butterfly collecting.”
“I study
Krav Maga
.”
“What?”
“Israeli.
Self defence.”
She stood up, and held a rifle out to John.
“Do you know how to use this?”
He took the rifle from her.
“Yeah, I guess.
I’ve used one before.”
“How long ago?”
She checked her sidearm again, then holstered it.
“Actually, just a couple days.
We were busting you out of the hospital.”
John went over to Danny, who was standing still, staring at the fallen men.
“Hey.
You ok?”
“I — Yeah.”
She swallowed.
“These fuckers have Adalia, right?”
John looked back at the men.
“Well, not these two specifically, but — yeah.
We think so.”
An ugly expression crossed her face.
“Then I’m just peachy.”
She hefted her crossbow — perhaps a little more confidently in John’s eyes — and reloaded the weapon.
Carlisle hefted the other rifle.
“Nice.”
She slung a belt across her shoulders.
“What’s with the belt?”
John eyed it carefully.
He couldn’t be sure, but those looked like —
“Grenades.”
Carlisle tapped some of the cylinders on the belt.
“These guys are loaded for bear.
This is not a hospital.
At least, not one I want to stay at.”
The explosion shook the ground, the sound of it terrible and sudden.
John covered his head with his arms, falling backwards against the side of the building.
“What the fuck!”
Carlisle ducked her head around the edge of the building.
“Jesus.”
“What?”
“Things just got complicated.”
John put a hand on her shoulder and pulled himself around her to take a look.
The main door of the building was a ruin, smoke and fire everywhere.
A group of men in black were storming towards the hole, rifles firing into the breach.
Return fire answered from inside, and from the windows.
He pulled his head back.
“I don’t get it.”
“It’s a coup.”
Carlisle’s mouth pulled into a savage grin.
“Complicated is good for us.
We get in, get the kid, and get out.”
“Right.”
John looked around.
“How do we get through that shit storm of fire?”
Carlisle’s grin broadened.
“We wait, Miles.
They’ll do the hard work for us.”
“I don’t want to wait,” said Danny.
“You guys can wait.
I’m going in.”
“It’s a shooting gallery, Danny!”
The sound of gunfire hammered the air, as if to support his point.
John shrugged.
“How do you think we’re getting through that?”
“You’re such a boy,” said Danny.
“Always thinking in straight lines.
There’ll be a back door.”
And just like that, she was off — running with the crossbow held in one hand as she made her way parallel to the action towards the rear of the large building.
“Well I’ll be.”
John shrugged.
“I guess we need to go back her up.”
“I guess we do.”
Carlisle hefted her rifle, looking down the sights.
“We’re all going to be dead before the end of the day.
You know that, don’t you?”
“That’s why I never joined the police,” said John.
“Because it’s a dangerous profession?”
“Because you’re all sour, pessimistic bastards.”
John clapped her on the shoulder.
“Come on.
We’re leaving.”
He set off at a run, making it look easy.
He liked to think he made everything look easy.
He turned to make sure Carlisle was bringing up the rear — after all, she was the professional here — then turned his attention back to the front.
He was making it look dead easy right up until he drew fire.
The bullets rattled along the building he was running beside, shards of plaster falling around him.
John dropped into a crouch beside an air conditioning unit attached to the building, a big old Panasonic unit with twin fans churning the air at a steady rate.
It was a large industrial type, pipes and wires snaking from it into the building.
It gave him a scrap of precious cover, wedged in the corner between it and the building, as he tried to get a view on who was shooting at him.
The goddamn building he huddled next to was between him and the bad guys assaulting the front door, so where —
ah
.
At the tree line he could see two men hunkered down.
They were making hand signs at each other, and one of them pointed in his direction.
The other nodded and started to move in a crouched run towards John, the first staying back to cover his comrade.
John readied his rifle —
if I can just get the drop on these guys…
The covering soldier at the tree line dropped like a stone.
John scanned about, but couldn’t see anyone.
It could have been Danny or Carlisle, or a random act of fate like a brain aneurism.
Hell, the guy could have been shot by Cupid’s bow for all the obvious signs there were.
John hunkered back down beside the air conditioning unit, keeping his arms and legs tucked in.
He heard the other man come up close and felt the slight jar in the AC as the man set his weight against it.
The irony
.
John moved his rifle slowly, so slowly, around the edge of the AC, the barrel creeping out.
A salvo of gunfire spat through the windows above them, showering them both with glass.
There was a crunch followed by an explosion —
is that what a grenade sounds like?
— in the building they were next to.
John and the soldier covered up, sheltering on opposite sides of the AC unit as the bullets cut into the building.
Window glass exploded, wood chips and debris flying around them.
John and the soldier both scuttled around the AC to sit next to each other, using the unit as mutual cover, an extra sliver of life between them and the chaos hammering into the building.
Silence.
John and the other man looked at each other.
Alive!
They shared a grin, and John stood.
“Shit man.
That was intense.”
He held a hand out to the soldier on the ground.
The man looked at his hand.
“What the hell,”
he said, and grabbed the offered hand.
John helped him up, and they slouched against the AC unit.
“You do this often?”
John checked his weapon.
The soldier did the same.
“Yeah.
Been a crazy few weeks.”
John nodded.
“So what now?”
“I dunno.
I’m supposed to —”
“I know.
Kill everyone you see, right?”
The helmet nodded.
“Something like that.
Aw, crap.”
The man stepped away from the unit, levelling his gun at John.
“I’m real sorry about this.”
“So am I.”
John nodded.
“Say, save me a seat.”
The helmet tipped sideways.
“Seat?”
“Yeah.
On the train to Hell.”
Carlisle grabbed the soldier from behind, one hand on his chin and the other on his shoulder, and wrenched her hands apart.
There was a crack as the man’s neck broke, and he slumped to the ground, his useless rifle falling beside him.
“You talk too much,”
she said.
“It’s my thing.”
John turned on the megawatt smile.
“That, and my handsome face.”
Carlisle patted his cheek.
“You’re just too damn pretty to die, aren’t you.”
“You know it.
Where’s Danny?”
“Up ahead.
She’s at the corner of the building.
You think you can get there without being shot at?”
“Hey.”
John shrugged.
“It’s not like I’m wearing pink or something.
This camo was expensive.”
Carlisle snorted.
“That vest was no more than ten bucks at a surplus store.”
“You shop there too?
I can tell.”
She didn’t say anything, jogging off towards the other side of the main building.
They caught up with Danny as she waited at the rear of it, crouched low and leaning against the corner.
John could appreciate what Val saw in her.
She was a striking woman, come to think of it, in a fit sort of way —
“Christ, Miles.”
Carlisle coughed.
“Stop ogling.”
Danny turned around.
“What?”
“It’s nothing.”
John turned on the megawatt smile.
“She’s deeply, insanely jealous.”
“Of what?”
Danny looked between the two of them, then tried again.
“Why?”
“That’s what I said.”
John nodded at Carlisle.
“For a detective, she’s not very good at detecting.”
Carlisle ignored him.
“Kendrick, what’ve you seen?”
“Nothing.
Not a goddamned thing.”
Danny smiled.
“It’s perfect.
There’s a door at the back, I think, there’s a path that heads up to it.
You can see it from here, and it leads off towards those helicopters back there.”
“That’d be a perfect escape route, if one of us could fly a helicopter.”
Carlisle looked at both of them.
“Guess not.
Ok.
We’ll need the car then.
Why don’t I take the lead from here?”
“Who’s going to watch my butt?”
John jerked his head back the way they’d come.
“Trust me, it’s not that riveting.”
“Christ.
There really is no love.”
John waved them forward.
“You two go ahead.
I’ll hold here.
Sing out when you’re in.”
He turned his back to the two women as they jogged off.
John scanned back the way they’d come, but didn’t see anyone.
It really was a balls-deep invasion at the front of the building, that’s for sure, but if he was a gambling man he’d send one or two to the back, just to make sure.
That could have been the two that Carlisle had dropped earlier —
there
.
He saw the movement as the soldiers —
what, four, five? —
scuttled along the path John had taken down the row of buildings.
He slowly edged back around the edge of the building, using the line of the structure for cover.
The soldiers had found the fallen man by the AC, and slowed their pace.
Shit
.
They weren’t going to be caught by surprise that easy.
John turned back towards Carlisle.
“What’s keeping you guys?”
“It’s locked.”
Danny sounded frustrated.
“Great.
Say, Carlisle.”
“Miles?”
“Can I have one of those grenades?”
“Do you know how to use them?”
“I’ll work it out.”
He caught the thrown belt of grenades, fumbling along the line of cylinders.
“Ok.”
“What?”
Carlisle sounded distracted.
“Can I phone a friend?”
“See the little metal ring?”
“Yeah.”
“Pull that, and then throw it far away.”
“Got it.”
John hefted the belt of grenades.
How many grenades do you need to take out five guys?
Probably one per guy, sure, that made sense.
The belt held five grenades, which was super convenient, like a sign from God or something.
He watched the men walk closer, edging along the line of the building towards him.
Fuck it.
“Guys.”
John’s head popped out, then he ducked back as bullets spattered the edge of the building.
“Shit!
I just want to talk!”
A moment passed, then, “About what?”
“I just want to go home!”
John pulled the rings out of the grenades, one by one.
“I’m coming out!”