“American history class. We’re studying World War II. So my dad, Wind, and Broome are three guys. That means you have six or seven more to track down.”
Robie shook his head, wondering how he’d missed something that obvious. Then he looked down at Julie’s chest.
The laser dot was centered right over her heart.
CHAPTER
75
ROBIE MADE NO visible reaction to the laser dot. He knew it was from a sniper rifle. He didn’t look to the window, where he knew the blinds must be partially open. The rifle and the shooter were out there somewhere, probably within a thousand yards of a house that had just become as unsafe as it was possible to be.
He inwardly chastised himself for not earlier noting the open blinds.
He put his hands under the table separating him and her. He smiled.
“What’s so funny?” she asked quizzically.
&
nbsp; “You ever play a game called Whac-A-Mole?”
“Uh, are you feeling okay, Will?”
He felt along the underside of the table. Solid wood, not cheap composite. That was good. About an inch thick. That might be good enough. It would have to be good enough. He would have to perform two movements, one with each hand. He drew a breath and his smile deepened, because if Julie made any sudden movements it would be over.
“I was just thinking about something that happened to me a long time ago—”
He flipped up the table with one hand so it was shielding Julie from the sniper, and drew his Glock with his other hand.
Julie screamed as Robie fired, killing the overhead light. The rifle shot shattered the window and drove into the wood and passed through it, but the barrier had served to throw off the line of fire. It struck the wall to the left of Julie.
“Get down,” snapped Robie. Julie immediately went to her belly. Robie heard footsteps rushing down the hall.
Robie moved behind the table.
He turned to Julie, who lay flat on the floor with her hands over her head.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she said in a trembling voice.
“Did you open the window blinds?”
She peered up at him. “No, they were like that when I got here.”
The door started to open. A voice called out, “Robie,” you okay?”
Robie recognized the voice as belonging to one of the agents guarding them. He called out, “Put your gun down on the floor and slide it in the room with your foot.”
One of the men yelled, “What the hell is going on, Robie?”
“Just what I was about to ask you. Who opened the blinds in this room?”
“The blinds?”
“Yeah, the blinds. Because a sniper just took a shot right through that opening. So unless you have an answer I’ll shoot the first person that comes through the door. I don’t care if it’s you or anybody else.”
“Robie, we’re the FBI.”
“Yeah, and I’m one seriously pissed-off guy with a Glock. Where does that get us?”
“There’s a sniper outside?”
“That’s what I said. Didn’t you hear the shot?”
“Hang tight.”
He heard the feet running away again.
Robie looked down at Julie and back over at the window. He wasn’t hanging tight. He pulled out his phone, thumbed Vance’s number. She answered.
He said, “Sniper at the safe house. Mole somewhere. Need backup. Now.”
He clicked off took Julie’s hand. “Keep low,” he warned her.
“Are we going to die?”
“Just keep down and follow me.”
He led her out of the room, cleared the hall, and they ran, not to the front or back doors, but to the opposite side of the house from where the shot had come. They crouched down in the room while Robie did a turkey peek out the window. There was no way he could do a clean sweep of the area with his naked eye, but he didn’t see a scope reflection, although the high-end equipment they had out there now wouldn’t necessarily have such a signature wink of light. He had no idea if the guy who had told him to hang tight was an ally or foe, and he didn’t think it was a good idea to wait and find out for certain.
They would be expecting them to go out either the back door or the window on the side opposite from the sniper fire.
So Robie planned to go out the front door.
But first they had to get there.
They moved back into the hall, and with Robie leading they made their way slowly toward the front of the house. The house was in a neighborhood with one road in or out. There were no houses close by. You had to really want to get to the place. Someone evidently had. And he had done so with help from the inside.
When Robie looked around the corner into the front room he saw the body of one of the agents lying there, feet closest to the front door, blood around his neck. Not a bullet wound. Robie would have heard the shot, and only a shotgun would have made a gash that big. Had to have been a knife. Hand over the mouth, knife slash to the neck, not much sound. Death would come fast.
Hand over the mouth. Killer would’ve had to get real close for that.
Another traitor in the ranks.
“Oh my God.”
He looked back at Julie. She had just seen the body.
“Look away,” said Robie.
He thumbed his phone keypad again. Vance picked up. Robie could hear the sound of her engine. She must’ve had it revved to over a hundred.
“Got one dead agent. Don’t know where the others are. Dead guy has up-close wound. Whoever nailed him he thought was a friend.”
“Shit!” exclaimed Vance.
“How far away are you?”
“Three minutes.”
He put away the phone and turned to Julie.
“We’re going to go out that front door, but we need to draw attention somewhere else.”
“Okay,” she said, her gaze darting between Robie and the dead man. “How?”
Robie cleared the chamber on his pistol, popped the mag, pulled out the two top rounds, inserted the two rounds he’d taken from his jacket pocket, and smacked the clip back into place. He racked the slide, which pushed one of the new rounds into the chamber.
He edged to the door and used his foot to move it open.
“What are you going to do?” asked Julie. “Shoot your way out of here?”
“Cover your ears.”
“What?”
“Cover your ears and look away from the door.”
Robie waited while she did so. Then he aimed and fired.
The first round hit the gas tank on the Bucar parked in the driveway. The incendiary round ignited the gasoline vapor and the explosion lifted the sedan right off the asphalt.
His second shot was aimed at the second Bucar, parked next to the first. A second later it joined the fireball of the first.
Robie grabbed Julie’s hand and they sprinted through the doorway. Keeping the wall of flames and smoke between them and, hopefully, whoever had just tried to kill Julie, they turned away from the house and ran down the street. Robie had debated trying to reach his car but decided that that would be akin to painting a target on their heads.
A car turned onto the street and accelerated. Robie saw the blue grille lights. He flagged Vance down. She hit the brakes and the Beemer skidded to a stop. Robie threw open the door, pushed Julie into the back, and jumped into the front passenger seat.
“Go, now!” he told Vance.
She put the car in reverse and smoked her tire tread backing down the street. She hit a J-turn, and as soon as the hood of her car was pointing