Chapter 33

Chatting with a guard while the crew got the helicopter ready to depart, I found out that the tank looking things were DHS armored vehicles, and since DHS doesn't get many chances to use them, whenever another agency asks for help, they jump on it and bring the big stuff. It's supposedly as much for show as it is for any need they might actually have. The things you can do with other people's money...

Colleen joined Rebecca and me near the hangar doors waiting for the signal to board. Our entourage was getting larger by the minute. Besides the three of us, there were nine armed guards, at least five FBI agents, four DHS military garbed officers with each armored vehicle and several watchers, stationed around a loose perimeter. That was just what I could see.

Colleen was talking quietly on her phone. Rebecca was nervously looking all around, and I was getting the impression that our guards were spooked about something. Just as Agent Carson waved for us to board, her walkie talkie cackled and everyone went into motion at once.

The guards with us, shouted for us to move towards the security doors. The one closest to me shoved me, hard. So hard I fell against the airplane tug. Impacting the tug dazed me enough that I failed to keep up with the group. By the time Agent Carson realized I was not with them, they were hustling Rebecca and Colleen through a set of security doors.

The safest thing to do seemed to be stay down and not make myself a target. Renee locked the doors behind Rebecca and Colleen and started across the hangar towards me, when something hit her, and she dropped. I could see she was in trouble, so I scooted across the concrete floor, grabbed her by the collar of her jacket, and dragged her back behind the tug, not forgetting to pick up her pistol on the way.

I could hear gunfire and vehicles racing around outside the hangar and risked taking a look.

I shouldn't have.

Several of our protectors had been taken out of action. We were in trouble.

Agent Carson was not hurt nearly as bad as I feared. Her vest had stopped the bullet but not the traumatic impact to her vital organs. She was alive, but unconscious. No use to me. I checked her pistol and confirmed the safety was off, then convinced myself that I had to stop them from getting in the building. As long as I kept them focused on me, they wouldn't be shooting at Colleen and Rebecca.

This was all my fault.

I caused this.

Now I had to man up and take the consequences. If any of us was going down, it was going to be me, and not them.

Suddenly I got the chance to man up.

While I was looking back at the doorway through which the ladies went, a lone gunman snuck up on us and was about to shoot Renee. The look of abject shock on his face was priceless when I produced a gun out of nowhere and shot him before he could turn his gun on me. Now I had two guns.

A loud blast from outside indicated that our helicopter was going to be sidelined for a major overhaul, and likely never be available for a trip to the lake. I could feel the heat from fire, as aviation fuel burned out of control. The light from the fire silhouetted another gunman as he ran for the open hangar doors. There was no shooting from our guards. I knew it was up to me, again.

He was sprinting for the security doors. He had to pass right past me to get there. He was completely ignorant of me and Renee. So I stuck out my foot, and sent him sprawling. Before he could recover and start shooting, I put a round in his stomach. I cursed myself for poor marksmanship. I was aiming at his head and missed from two feet. Not a good job.

Of course, he didn't think so.

The adrenaline was pumping through me to the point that I could hear my heartbeat and feel it in both hands. Renee gurgled and moaned a little, and I touched her on the side of the face and told her to stay calm and that help was on the way. I prayed I was right.

What was on the way right then, was two more shooters, dressed in all black outfits, complete with black face masks. They didn't run. They glided, and the silence of their movement was downright frightening. They stayed about ten feet apart and moved almost in perfect synchronicity. I envied their discipline, even as I feared their intentions.

They had to cross twenty-some feet of open hangar, and I had the tug to protect us. That was our only advantage, and unless I tipped the odds in our favor, we were toast. Thinking fast, I laid flat on the floor and shot the closest one in the ankle, from under the tug.

He didn't like that very much. His scream was not of pain. It was a primordial scream of rage and hatred. It was so loud, I almost forgot about the second shooter. He was counting on that and used the noise to make his move; which got him dead.

I let him come until he was almost over top of us, and then put a round in his throat, because I missed his chest - again. A crack shot I would never be. Get over it. The other one tried to shoot under the tug, but his angle was all wrong. I waited until he was out of ammunition and shot him, again. He shut up after that. Permanently.

Nothing happened for a long time, unless you count Renee coming to and ripping her gun out of my hand, and giving me a withering look as she did. Sometimes it's just best to shut up, and this was one of those times. She looked around to get an idea what was happening, couldn't see much except for the dead guys on all three sides of us, and looked a silent question at me.

"I think your team is out of action. I haven't heard a thing from any of them since you got shot." As I came down from the adrenaline high my body was beginning to shut down from overwhelming exhaustion. I think I needed Rebecca about then, but Renee had another agenda and it didn't include exposing the girls to whoever was still out there.

She whispered into her phone, urgently giving orders and updates. I could hear sirens in the distance and knew help would be along soon.

Renee made a huge miscalculation, and almost got us all killed.

She assumed we were safe, because nothing was happening, and she could hear the cavalry in the distance. As she began to give a rundown of what she could see from our position, a gunman stepped out of the shadows and had her dead to rights. Before I even thought about it, my hand raised the second pistol and took him out with six, poorly aimed shots, one of which hit him in the head.

Renee spun on the first sound, but never got off a shot. She looked at me like I was an alien and took away the second pistol, shoving it in her waistband. She looked mad, not grateful, and I wondered why. Then I knew.

She was the leak, and I was in trouble. Those two were coming for me, not her.

"You seriously screwed this entire thing up and now I have to unscrew it," she said as she holstered her service pistol, put on gloves and switched to the shooter's gun. "Do you have any idea how much they're paying me to make sure you never make it to court?

"Well – I'd say stick around and find out, except you won't be – sticking around - that is. You'll be dead, and I'll receive a citation for bravery and heroism. Those half-wit politicians think giving an award is the same as writing a check.

"Oh, well. I get to have both. Lots of money and the citation to decorate the, 'I Love Me, ' wall at home.

And you?

Well, you'll be collateral damage. As I recall, you don't have anyone, anyway, so there's no one to miss you. The papers will whine about the loss of such a young, promising life, and all that, but in the end, you'll be dead and I'll be rich.

"You know what they say? 'Life's a Bitch. Then you die, '" and she pointed the gun at my head.

For the second time in my life I saw death coming for me.

Everything went still for just an instant, as I waited for the bullet that would end me. Every little detail stuck in my head as Agent Carson placed her finger on the trigger of the bad guy's gun. I watched her lips contract in a truly ugly smile, which showed the evil in her heart, quite clearly.