Promises Part 3 (Bounty Hunters 3)

Brian pressed the button and Ford could hear Dana’s tight voice. It was choppy and broken but there was no mistaking it. Dana was suspicious. Something was wrong. Goddamnit! Ford knew it.

Dana

“There’s a signal killer somewhere. Our earpieces, cells, all useless. Even the watch. I can’t talk through the mic. I can still see your locations, but I have no audio from it. I was trying to reach you the whole time, Ford.” Dana was watching Ford and Brian through his scope. He could see Ford was listening.

Ford took Brian’s phone. “I know. I’m… I’m sor—”

“Stop. We’ll talk where it’s warm.” Dana hoped Ford caught what he was saying. They had a trip to go on. They needed to stay focused right now. They’d gone from being the hunters to the hunted. Otherwise, why was there signal jammers in the area?

Dana heard it the same time as Ford and Brian, the sound of tires screeching in the distance. Then the sound of gunfire followed by return gunfire. Shit, shit, shit. Dana dropped his cell and hurried back to the other side of the roof. He turned his rifle towards where he’d last seen Duke and Quick.

A black Infinity SUV barreled out of a side street between a Western Union and a pawn shop. They were almost a half mile up the street. Quick and Duke were running on foot. Dana could see Duke’s wrist up to his mouth but he couldn’t hear anything. There was no damn audio. The jammers were screwing with all their tech. Part of the reason they were so successful as a team was because of their superior communications. John Grossman knew exactly what he was doing. He had to split them up, eliminate their ability to coordinate. It was the only way to take them out.

Ford and Brian were running full speed, every now and then one of them having to dodge a pedestrian. Dana was glad the weather had driven most people off the streets, because he wasn’t going to hesitate to shoot Grossman dead in the middle of Donald Lee Parkway. Lethal force was always their last resort, but this bounty wasn’t going to let them arrest him. He was already using his own deadly force against them, they had a right to defend themselves, even defend the innocent people that were going about their day with no clue they were in the middle of a war.

Dana took aim at the tires, ready to flip that big bastard over when the driver cut in front of an oncoming minivan and turned down the side street just before he got to Dana’s block. Shit. If they looped all the way around and came back up, that’d put them in perfect position to shoot and probably hit Brian or Ford. He needed his guys to go the other way. Dana put his wrist to his mouth and yelled but, of course, he didn’t get a response. He looked for his cell. Couldn’t find it. Fuck!

Dana left his bag, his Remington, and his SALT. With nothing but his Sig and his Glock tucked in the small of his back, he took off for the fire escape. He had seconds, maybe. Grossman would be back and Dana’s guys would be vulnerable. They hadn’t seen which street Grossman cut down and wouldn’t know which street he’d use to sneak up on their sixes. No wonder he’d chosen Grove Park to lure them to. With all the side streets, fields, brush, trees, it was vast enough to give Grossman room to play and turn Duke’s team around in circles.

Dana jumped down the last few rungs of the ladder and took off at a sprint. He heard tires and the revving of an engine. He had one block to run. Brian and Ford were at least a quarter of a mile away. It looked like Brian was about to break off from his brother and Dana wanted to yell at him not to leave Ford.

He saw the nose of the SUV ease out from Peek Road. Not even fifty feet from his heart. Still running at a breakneck speed, Dana pumped his legs harder and faster than he’d ever had to. Go faster, goddamnit. Dana grunted, his thighs burning from the energy he was exerting. His team needed him. He wouldn’t fail Ford. Dana could see the glint of metal in the lowered passenger window. It was him. Grossman. With his eyes set on the love of his life. Eyes that were murderous with intent to kill. No, no, no. Tires peeled and screeched. Dana fired twice into the air, warning them. Ford – hearing Dana’s alarm – was just able to dive out of the way when the SUV jolted out of its hiding place.

Grossman pointed his chrome handgun out his window, aiming at Duke as he and Quick ran towards them. Dana stopped, took aim and fired, hitting the passenger side door. He saw Grossman jerk his hand back inside and duck down. The driver spun the truck and headed back in Dana’s direction. Two women were coming out of a seafood restaurant, Dana waved his gun for them to go back inside, but still had to run out in the middle of the street to dodge them when they stood there like deer in headlights.