Contract to Kill (18 page)

“Holly, when was the last time you executed a PIT maneuver?”

“Not since the Crusades were in Jerusalem.”

“I’m sure it will come back to you.”

“I’m supposed to be on vacation.” Holly stomped the accelerator. “What if that’s not Mason?”

“We’ll offer an apology and exchange insurance information.”

“That’s not very reassuring.”

“You can do this, Holly. You don’t have to hit with a lot of force, just a lateral bump. The road is wet, and there’s no one else around. You should match Mason’s speed or be moving slightly faster when you make contact.” Nathan saw her tighten her grip on the steering wheel.

“This is what . . . a $100,000 vehicle?” she asked.

“Harv?”

“More like one twenty.”

“Great.”

Nathan reached down and pulled his Predator knife.

“What’s that for?” she asked.

“Air bags,” Harv said flatly. “They might deploy. It depends on the g-force of the impact.”

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” she said.

Nathan sat up as straight as he could and forced his back against the seat. “Stay behind the ambulance for as long as possible, then make your move when I give the word. If the ambulance stops, I’ll get out and prevent Mason from approaching it. Switch places with Harv.”

The ambulance grew in size as Holly raced toward its rear bumper.

“Here we go, Holly. Be smooth on the wheel. Now!”

She maneuvered the big sedan into the left lane and sped past the shrieking ambulance. Its driver honked, the sound shifting frequency like a passing train.

She braked hard, and yelled, “Everyone hang on!” She swerved to the right and clipped the rear bumper of the SUV. The impact produced a metallic bang, but it didn’t jar them too violently.

Karen cried out.

The air bags didn’t deploy.

In perfect form, the SUV began a tail slide. The driver tried to recover, but not in time.

“Hot shit, Holly! That was textbook.” Nathan looked behind and saw the front end of the ambulance dip. “The bus is slowing down. Get ready to switch places with Harv.”

Mason saw headlights appear out of nowhere.

“What the hell’s that idiot doing?”

He realized too late what was happening.

The impact wasn’t violent, but it worked.

He fought to keep the SUV from spinning, but lost the battle. His world turned into a carnival ride. He stomped the brake to slow his forward momentum, but even that was too late.

Mason clenched his teeth as the SUV—moving backward—jumped the curb and plowed through a hedge into a commercial center. Mason thought things might be okay until they slammed into a parked car. Their velocity went from forty miles an hour to zero in less than a second. It felt like he’d been sucker punched as the back of his skull smashed the headrest.

At the same instant, two explosive cracks assaulted all his senses.

For a split second, he was in Afghanistan; then his mind registered the air bags had deployed. A noxious odor like burned plastic filled the compartment.

“Chip, you okay?”

Over the top of the scorching air bag, Mason saw the ambulance swerve to the middle of the street. It slid sideways for a second, then regained its traction.

Chip opened his door and dived out.

All over the parking lot, car alarms blared, adding to the din of the ambulance’s siren.

Finishing Toby Haynes would have to wait. “Chip, we’re outta here.”

It didn’t happen.

Mason realized he could barely hear his own voice. Like his own, Chip’s eardrums were pounded from the dual air bag detonations.

His friend pulled his handgun and sprinted toward the ambulance.

“Stop the car!”

Holly slammed the brakes, pulsing the antilocks.

“Change in plans. Harv, you’re with me. Holly, get Karen outta here. Stay within a few blocks. I’ll radio you.”

Before the sedan had stopped, Nathan and Harv were out. He toggled his laser and lined up on the gunman dashing for the ambulance. He painted the crimson dot on the man’s rib cage, then moved it a few inches to the left to lead his target. He had a better chance shooting center mass than risking a missed head shot.

He closed his eyes at the instant he pulled the trigger. Unsuppressed, the report pounded his ears. The gunman shuddered but didn’t go down.

Mason knew Chip was vulnerable out there. Still semi-dazed from the air bag deployment, he staggered out of the driver’s seat and drew his pistol.

He heard an engine roar and looked toward the street. The ambulance crew must’ve seen Chip running toward them because they were leaving in a big hurry.

A single handgun report rang out.

Mason watched Chip double over.

Thoroughly pissed off, Mason yanked open the rear door of his SUV and grabbed the M4. He leveled it at the man who’d just shot Chip. The guy looked an awful lot like the gunman from Haynes’s apartment. He must’ve followed the ambulance too.

Mason leaned forward and pulled the trigger.

Holly screeched the tires on wet pavement as she executed a U-turn and sped away.

“Down!” Harv yelled.

A split second later, a machine-gun burst pierced the night.

Nathan saw a white star of fire spit from the SUV. He dived for the parked cars at the curb and sensed dozens of bullets whizzing past his feet. The staccato roar of the machine gun echoed off every building in the area and crackled down the street.

Behind him, Harv’s handgun boomed three times, the muzzle flashes freezing raindrops.

He looked toward the ambulance and was relieved to see it speeding away.

The man Nathan had shot was down on one knee.

Could he have missed? No friggin’ way. He’d drilled the guy for sure. The gunman, likely Hahn, given his size, clutched his midsection and limped back toward the SUV in a crouch. Nathan remembered seeing body armor as they’d descended the stairs at Toby’s apartment.

A smile touched his lips. “Hey, asshole,” he yelled, “you want some barbecue sauce for those ribs?”

He lined up for a head shot at the same instant a second salvo peppered the area around him.

Shit!
Nathan covered his face as bullets skipped off the asphalt and whistled away. Mason was spraying the entire area without regard to collateral damage.

“Harv!” Nathan whispered loudly.

“I’m okay.”

“We need solid cover! Head for the corner of Boot World. Go!”

He came up and saw no sign of Mason. It didn’t matter. He bench-rested his Sig on the hood of the car and sent three quick shots through the SUV’s fender into the engine block. A glance in Harv’s direction confirmed he’d made it to safety. At least there weren’t any houses around here.

Mason fired again, this time from deeper in the parking lot. More supersonic bullets tore through the car shielding Nathan. Sooner or later, a lucky shot was going to find him. He needed to join Harv behind solid cover.

“Give me suppression fire in three, two, one . . . Now.”

Harv’s handgun boomed as he sprinted for Harv’s position. His friend changed magazines when he arrived.

Nathan peered around the corner. “There were two vehicles at Toby’s. Keep eyes on the street. Give me more suppression fire. I’ve got an idea. A way to advance without being in the open.”

“Don’t get yourself shot. Like Holly said, we don’t have vests and they do.”

“You ready?”

Harv nodded.

“Now.”

Harv leaned out and fired his pistol toward the SUV, allowing Nathan to pivot around the corner and smack a huge glass window with his Sig. A cascade of tempered shards rained down, and he rushed inside the store. Thankfully, no alarm blared and the inside of the store remained dark. Moving quickly, he worked his way toward the entrance of the store facing the parking lot.

At the same time Nathan’s mind registered the cracks, the glass blew inward, followed by the roar of automatic fire. Mason must’ve seen him breach the window and go inside. Thankfully, the bullets missed to his right. Nathan ducked for cover behind an endcap display as Mason fired another burst.

Like something out of a horror movie, the shoes on the rack came to life as dozens of .223 slugs found them. They jumped into the air and bounced around as if possessed. Nathan heard Harv’s gun boom two more times, silencing Mason’s machine gun. Without warning, a shrieking security alarm wailed to life and the entire store was invaded with blinding light. Nathan squinted against the visual assault and crawled toward the broken-out door. He rolled onto his back, painted his laser on the closest interior security light, and took it out. Two more shots later and he was in darkness again. He couldn’t locate the source of that damned racket; it seemed to be coming from everywhere at once.

“Nate
. . .
can
. . .
hear me?”

“I’m okay. Give me three more shots on my mark. I’m going to advance up to a parked RV. Any sign of Hahn?”

“No. The last
. . .
of him
. . .
he
. . .
limping toward
. . .
SUV
.
”

“Harv, I can’t hear you over this damned alarm. Here I go. Stand by . . . Now!”

Nathan waited an extra second to be sure Harv fired before he made his sprint out the door. Harv’s gun discharged with slow, deliberate cadence.

Nathan used the interval to advance through the front door’s frame. He lowered himself flat behind a short hedge and moved ten feet laterally to his right. If Mason had seen him come out of Boot World, he didn’t want to be in the same place for the next salvo.

“When I open fire, follow my path through the store. Keep watching for Darla.” Nathan tried to gauge how much time had passed since Holly had sideswiped Mason’s SUV. It couldn’t have been more than sixty seconds. If Darla were in the area, she’d be showing up fairly quickly. If she did, he wouldn’t be able to protect Harv’s left flank.

“Change in plan. I’m heading for the landscaped strip along the street. It’s—”

Mason’s weapon roared again. Bullets tore through the hedge and uprooted grass along Boot World’s storefront. When the barrage ended, he popped up and aimed at the spot where he’d seen the flash of the M4, but Mason wasn’t there.