Part 28 (1/2)
Once Kris had recovered from being thrown hard against her seat belt, and then deep into a seat way too small for her...or anyone for that matter...he grinned at her in the rearview mirror. ”Wait until you see what I have planned, honey cakes.”
What was it about bright red sport cars that cut the male IQ in half? Kris thought, but didn't say. Jack was getting her to Gramma Ruth.
a.s.suming he didn't kill her in traffic.
”Front door guard is down” came over the net.
”Back door is down.”
”Rig one is unloading” came almost immediately, followed by rig two through five about as fast as notice could be given.
That made it time for Jack and Kris.
The ragtop on the sporty thing folded back.
Jack mashed the gas pedal and his little red rocket took off for the s.p.a.ce by the front door just vacated by a station wagon.
Then Jack did a hard left turn. There were two large pickup trucks parked parallel to the curb across the street from their target. Jack brought the sports car to a hard stop, nose to the curb, its side doors with at least an inch between them and the front of one truck, the tailgate of the other.
Kris was on her feet, sliding herself over the tiny trunk and running for the door before the car even stopped swaying.
Jack and Captain DeVar were only a step behind her.
”A fine bit of driving,” Kris called over her shoulder.
”Don't get a chance to do something like that nearly often enough.” Jack chortled.
”Let's hope you don't need to do something like that for a very long time,” Kris shouted back as she charged through the door and into the hot shadowed cavern of the warehouse.
”She dishes it out,” Jack growled, ”but she can't take it.”
Inside, Kris started to ask where to go, but green chem lights lit a path. She followed.
NELLY, WHAT ABOUT THE BUGS? ARE WE UNDER OBSERVATION?.
I AM TAKING DOWN THEIR BUGS AND SENDING MY OWN REPORT. THEIR BUGS SEND A RECOGNITION SIGNAL EVERY SIXTY SECONDS. THAT IS ALL THE TIME WE HAVE.
”We got sixty seconds before they notice their bugs are dead,” Kris reported.
”I'd planned for only thirty seconds,” DeVar replied as they took the stairs two or three at a time.
The hall before Kris was lined with Marines in civvies, armed with automatics mostly, but a few had M-6s. They awaited their captain's orders.
Captain DeVar signaled to four M-6 gunners. They and a pistol-armed sergeant moved to the head of the line.
SOMETHING IS SPOOFING THE NERVOUS GUY, Nelly told Kris.
Kris slowed down to glance at Captain DeVar's battle board. The scene in the hostage room was getting rambunctious. The calm fellow signaled to the shooters to put their guns back together and for two of them, the ones closest to him, to check the door.
”It's going down,” Captain DeVar said, alerting his team in a soft voice.
The four Marines closest to the door moved farther down the hall, leaving room for the new, heavily armed arrivals.
”Protect the hostage,” the Marine Captain whispered.
”I'd love to talk to those two suits,” Kris added. ”Take'em alive if you can.”
”But they're not worth a dead Marine,” the captain snapped.
And the door opened a crack.
35.
The kidnappers tried to peek into the hall without exposing themselves. Not a bad approach.
They didn't expect Marines to kick the door in.
The sergeant not only kicked the door in, but rolled into the room himself. Behind him, his fire team took the gunners on at full automatic.
The two men trying so carefully to open the door were blasted across the room. Their blood splattered the walls behind them. Around them.
The two shooters from Kris's favorite gang dropped to the floor and tossed their pistols as far from themselves as they could.
That left two gunners and two suits. The gunners tried to take the Marines on, about a second after the Marines transferred their fire to them. That second's delay was deadly. Like the first two gunners, they became gory renditions of modern art decorating the dirty gray walls of the room.
Both of the suits now had guns in their hands.
Both swung around to blow a hole in Gramma Ruth's head.
Gramma Ruth showed why she was still around after going toe-to-toe with Iteeche warriors. They had figured that taping her to a chair would inhibit her movements.
They hadn't planned on her taking the entire chair and laying it over on its back. Suddenly, a metal chair was blocking their aim at Ruth's skull.
They started to take the two steps they needed to get a good aim at her head. At least they tried.
Neither quite made that second step. The sergeant took one. Kris got the other.
The sergeant put one round in the flaky one's pistol arm, then moved aim and put three in his body.
Kris didn't trust her skills. She put one round into her target's shoulder, then two more into his side.
Neither man got off a shot before they were spinning around. Going down.