Chapter 13

I had gone to sleep quickly and the next thing I knew, Bobby was waking me for my shift. She said, "I let you sleep three hours. I don't want to wake Sarah. This is the first real trauma she's been through. She needs her rest to be of any use tomorrow. I hope you don't mind. Wake us both at five. I have it dark in the front room, so I can have the drapes open. Keep watch on the guys out there and the back yard. The back is vulnerable if someone really wanted to get in."

The next three hours were a bit of a strain since I kept imagining hearing things. But I kept watch out both the front and back, along with the video monitors.

I woke both girls at five. They got up, showered, and dressed for the office. I still didn't have anything but the jeans and shirt I was wearing. Before we left, I asked Sarah if she had her weapon. She checked in her purse, took out the lightweight Glock, dropped the clip to make sure the magazine was full, pulled the slide back to check to see if a round was chambered and put the gun back in her purse. I looked at Bobby and she rolled her eyes. I told her to wait a second. I went into her closet, pulled another Glock, three magazines, and a box of shells. I also pulled one of the new MP5's two additional thirty round magazines and a canister of a hundred rounds.

When I came back into the hallway, Bobby asked, "A little overkill, don't you think?"

I grunted and added, "Think about the last few days, then say that again."

We went out to the garage, set all of the alarms, and got into the car, with me riding in the back seat and raised the door. Bobby used her radio to check with the two Marshals in the car at the curb. They said all clear and that our chase vehicle was around the corner. I was busily loading the magazines for the Glock. I seated a clip, put a round in the chamber, checked the safety, and proceeded to load the MP5 magazines. I had just finished loading the first magazine and seating it in the MP5 when we passed what was supposed to be our chase vehicle. It pulled out after us. I looked up a second and did a double take.

Bobby caught my double check and asked, "What's up?"

"There's no Marshal tag on the front of the car following us. Call the chase car and ask them where they are."

There was no immediate answer, then we got an answer, "We are just leaving the seven eleven at the entrance to the subdivision."

Bobby said, "Oh shit."

I quickly told Bobby, "Call the house car and tell them that we will be moving slow and to come up on us quick. Tell the chase car to set up a roadblock so we can pinch them in."

Bobby was giving the directions I asked her to give, while I was stuffing rounds in the other two magazines for the MP5. The people in the car following us couldn't see me watching them as we were in a vehicle with absolutely black one way windows. It was obvious they didn't have our radio frequency since they kept right behind us. Just as we rounded a bend in the road, we saw our guys parked across the road, standing on the other side of their car.

The guys from the house were rapidly coming up behind the car following us. All of a sudden, the car following us jammed on their brakes. Our guys following them saw the maneuver in time to stop and back up. I yelled for Bobby to stop and back up a little to give the car behind us less room to turn either direction. I checked our guys blocking the road and they were climbing back in their car to come to us.

Bobby backed to within about thirty feet of the car behind us and stopped. I was thinking it would be a standoff, but I wasn't up for a long wait. I didn't get breakfast and I wanted to get downtown. I lowered the window and pointed the Glock out the window at the windshield of the other car.

"Bobby, tell our guys behind them to use their bullhorn to tell them to get out with their hands up or face the consequences. Tell them to count to five and tell our guys to get down."

She used the radio to tell the men what I wanted. The guys radioed back, "What consequences, we don't have any consequences."

Bobby keyed her set, "I think our guy is finished with playing, just do it."

The guy with the bullhorn said, "I'm going to count to five. If you're not out of the car by five, you're not going to enjoy what happens. One, Two, Three,"

Before he said four, all four doors opened and four guys got out with their hands up, but all four were still holding weapons.

The deputy with the bullhorn yelled, "Drop your weapons and lie on the ground, do it now, drop your weapons."

One of the guys acted like he was going to put his piece down and get on the ground, but instead he leveled the gun at the car behind them even though he couldn't see anyone. I began firing and knocked the guy down but could tell he wore armor. Another guy decided to fight and I shot him and hit him in the neck. The first guy was trying to get up when one of the Marshals behind us put a round in his head. The other two guys just stood there with their eyes closed, but their guns were now on the ground.

The bullhorn sounded, "Move to the curb and lay on the ground, face down. Do not move. As the guy on one side began moving, he looked into the car twice before moving.

"Quick, radio our guys, tell them there is at least one more guy in the car."

The guys were starting to move when they heard Bobby and stopped. Tell them to use the bullhorn. If they don't clear the car, we will destroy it from here.

"Get out of the car. We will fill that thing with so much metal you won't know what model it is. Now get out now."

I grabbed the MP5 while opening the door. I flipped the weapon off safe and onto bursts, thinking I was going to blast out the windows. All of a sudden a guy jumped out of the car on each side rolling and firing fully automatic weapons at the car behind them. You can't hit shit with those mini-automatic machine pistols. While I was shooting bursts up one guy's crotch, the other guy was being pin-cushioned by the guys in front of us.

It was over almost as soon as it started. I was out of the car, leveling the MP5 at the guys on the ground, hopping to the car behind us, making sure it was clear. Shit, they had four shotguns in there along with a couple of hunting rifles with scopes. They had been serious. I went over to the two guys lying on the ground and laid the hot barrel up against one of the guy's head saying, "You know, I love the way it sounds when a skull explodes from a close up round." Then I laughed very cruelly. I think he wet his pants. I stayed there until the two were cuffed and cleaned. Both had ankle holsters and a back up in their belt.

I looked at them and said, "Too bad you didn't have a chance to get at your backups. It would have been fun. I'm starting to enjoy this."

One of the other Marshals told the two, "This is the kid that's done over a dozen of you guys in the last two days. I think he means it."

Sirens were coming, so I headed to the Expedition. Bobby was on the radio calling for a clean up truck and some crime scene specialist. She told them we needed the tow truck again.

As I got in, Sarah asked, "Are you alright? You're acting angry."

"I'm hungry, damn it, and these assholes are causing me to miss breakfast. See if we can leave here and get to the office. I don't think anybody is going to get between me and something to eat. As a matter of fact, how about an egg McMuffin, or one of those croissants from Burger King."

Sarah got out and talked to the two sets of Deputy Marshals that were holding off the county guys. She came back and said, "They said to take off, but to remember to write up the incident report since Wild Bill Hickok here is doing most of the damage.

Bobby chuckled and asked, "Are you serious, do you want something to eat? Do you think you can keep it down?"

"Hey, radio those guys and tell them to let the media photograph and film everything and everyone. Don't cover the dead guys, let them take the pictures as they are and to make sure they take pictures of inside the bad guys' car."

Bobby did that and asked why. I answered her saying, "Let's begin to let some of these idiots know we're ready. These guys all have armor on, so they're professionals. It might increase the temperature a little, but I think we're ready. There may be a big payoff if I get gone, but it's going to be the toughest hit they ever make."

After pausing a second to get another breath, "I'm starved and yes, I can keep it down. If I can eat an MRE while some sniper has me pinned down, I can eat a breakfast sandwich in a bulletproof Ford."

I busily reloaded my weapons in the back seat and sat back to watch the terrain. We stopped at a Burger King because it was first place we came to and did get a bunch of biscuits with sausage, egg, and cheese, along with some of those mini fried potatoes. We got some cinnamon rolls, a milk for each of us, and a cup of coffee each. When we were on the way to the office with something to eat, I had the feeling we were going to get to the office without any more trouble. We did.

We parked in the garage in the open VIP spot. It was called that, but it was a secure spot that was open on all sides so no one could hide around it. I left the MP5 in the car but put the Glock in my waistband. I'd have to remember to pick up a belt clip for it. Since I didn't have a jacket, all I had was a T-shirt framing my shoulder rig. You could see the Glock sticking out of my waistband, so I must have looked pretty strange. I'm sure several people did a double take on the guy with a cane walking between an Amazon and a nice looking lady into the federal building.

We held up our badges and the two security people that were really secret service, waved us through. We rode the elevator up to our floor, the two ladies with me greeted the receptionist, and we went into the main office.

Sarah did what she's been doing for years. She sat at her desk, put her purse in a drawer, and turned on her PC. She pushed some of her stuff around, arranged her phone just right and smiled, probably thinking to herself, "Ready."

Howard waved at us from his office. As Bobby and I walked toward Howard's office, the agents standing and sitting began applauding. It kept up all the way to Howard's office. Bobby and I waved, then ducked into the office to talk to Howard.

The first thing he said was, "Christ, can't you guys just come to work like normal Deputies? You've upset the media and a whole bunch of folks out in Carolwood. They are bitching that we put a hazardous hiding place among good citizens."

He chuckled and said, "The brass is still getting up, having breakfast and should be here by eight thirty or nine. I told them you guys would probably be here early, but they are the cheifs and we're expected to wait on them. Wait till they hear you had another incident on the way in. How many, and how many are able to talk?"

Bobby said, "Six and two."

Howard looked at me and asked, "How many did you do?"

"Two, maybe three."

He looked at Bobby and she said "Two, probably three."

He nodded and said, "You know from your school work that if you have an exceptional high kill ratio they're going to retire you. They don't go by military or Marine rules. They think it's unhealthy to be that accurate or that you could be involved in that many incidents."

"Can't be helped. If I'm canned, I can go back to work for the employment people where I may still have a job."

Howard grimaced, "Forget those people. We'll put you on airplane detail. Boring as hell, but very safe, it pays well and the travel is great."

He took a deep breath, "Go do your incident report real quick and bring it to me. You have to do them individually, you know. Now get before we have these guys up our butts."

As we were leaving he said, "Oh yeah, we put your clothes back in the penthouse, Chuck. We brought a set to the office for this morning. We've rented the entire floor over there. That's where we stashed the brass. Bobby will be in the other bedroom in your penthouse so plan on going for some clothes unless you want to go on a shopping spree courtesy of Uncle Sam."

We went out to Sarah who had three separate incident reports already printed out. It had three separate versions and mine was close enough to be damn accurate. I thanked Sarah profusely and signed it. She said she would wait a while and take them into Howard.

Bobby said, "Follow me, I want to get some different firepower for you."

We went into the supply closet where she twisted and turned a combination lock and pulled open a door to a large gun safe. It was jammed with every kind of handgun you can imagine. She pulled a box out and checked it and pulled out a box of shells. She had chosen a Glock forty caliber. It's actually not that much bigger than a 9 mm, but the forty caliber round has more powder and more penetrating power.

She asked for my badge ID. She scanned it and scanned the serial number from the box on the gun. She handed me the gun and asked me to read the serial number. I did and it matched. She closed the safe and looked through the stuff hanging up coming up with a nice shoulder harness and holster for the big Glock. Her next gift was a belt holster she said I could use for a backup when I needed one. She pulled three high capacity magazines from a stack and said, "Let's get you changed into something decent, then we'll go downstairs to the range and give this piece a test drive.

Out in the office, we asked around and found that some of my clothes were in the locker room. One of the Marshals took me to show me where. It took ten minutes to dress and put on my new hardware. When I came out carrying my personal weapon, Bobby said, "Give it here, I'll keep it until you get a place to put it. We can leave it in the hotel. Um, give me the other Glock from the house, because that's checked out for there. She put all of the hardware into her purse and we walked toward the door. We told Sarah where we were going and headed toward the elevators.

We walked into the range at eight o'clock. The range officer was having some coffee. "Hey, heard you two were doing some target shooting. Glad you're here to practice."

Bobby said, "I just gave him a forty. Give him some range rounds and let him break this thing in. It might be stiff." She turned to me and said, "Tear it down and clean it real quick before you start. That'll probably help a little. You can clean it again when we're done. Hey, Cap, give me some of those forties too."

I cleaned the piece and reassembled it quickly. If you know how to break down one Glock, you can do any of them. I loaded three magazines and put on the ear muffs. At the shooting position, I fired a full clip, hitting the target consistently, but all over the place.

I dropped the magazine and took the gun to the range officer. "Do you have any other barrels for this thing? I think this one has a nick in it, the hits are all over the place."

He opened a drawer while I was tearing the pistol down and handed me a new barrel. I slid it in place and locked it down.

Back at the firing position, I slid a magazine in place after putting my ear muffs back on, and began firing steadily at the target. Ten rounds right in the center. I dropped the empty magazine and slid another in putting ten rounds in a really tight group in the head. This was a sweet gun, light, easy to shoot, and very accurate. I was amazed a bad barrel got through the inspectors.

For the last magazine, I pushed the quick targets. These targets become lit at random, and you have to shoot each one within the one to one and a half seconds that it is displayed. The faster you shoot, the faster they light up. I went through the quick targets, hitting them all without any problem. I dropped the clip laid the gun on the position counter, and began picking up my brass.

Bobby came to me and said, "Jesus, you have to teach me to do that. That's uncanny. Where did you learn to shoot like that?"

"When I was in the Marines, especially in Iraq, sometimes we didn't have anything to do. Some guys like to watch TV twenty-four hours a day, but I like to read and shoot. So I practiced about four to six hours a day. You get pretty good if you shoot that much."

"I don't have time to shoot that often, but whatever tips you have, teach me. No wonder you were so accurate out there. I thought you were kidding about aiming and hitting head shots. You weren't lucky, you were accurate."

I had her get in position and asked her what position was most comfortable for her. She said, "No, I want to shoot with just one hand like you do."

"Listen, accuracy is more important than style. Show me how you shoot."

She used the two handed approach. I checked her hands and adjusted them so she didn't have a finger tipping the front of the weapon. I asked her to do some dry fire for me first, and to concentrate just like she would if it were live.

Instead of coming up on the target, she tried to level at it and pulled the trigger. I told her to do it again so I could see if she did it the same. She did.

I told her to put the weapon down. I then showed her without using the weapon how to come up on the target. I went through the motion three times. Next I put my finger up in the air and said, "Think of this as the trigger and think squeeze. No pulling, reserve that for my dick. Now squeeze. She did squeeze, but still pulled a little.

I said, "You will be very accurate if you learn to squeeze the trigger. Pick up the weapon and try again. Now use the motion to come up on the target, and squeeze the trigger." This time she was concentrating and the gun didn't jump up but stayed level. We repeated the motion and the squeeze three more times.