I quickly loaded the shotgun with rubber-bullet-filled shotgun shells. I was really glad Sal had the nifty guns, even shotguns. This one was a semi-auto IWI Tavor TS-12 gauge shotgun with four rotating tube fed magazines, each holding four shotgun shells. That gave me sixteen shots before I either had to reload or start using my pistol.
I hoped it would be enough.
I nodded to Sam when I was ready and followed him out the door. The one thing I couldn't understand about this attack was why it was happening in the daylight hours. It would have made more sense to attack under cover of darkness.
I tapped my comm unit. "Does it seem odd to anyone that they are attacking during the daylight hours?"
I didn't hear anything for a moment, and then Sal said, "Yeah, that is weird."
"I suggest we take one of these guys alive so he can talk."
"I'm hoping we can take all of them alive," Sal countered. "Taking people out, even if they are the bad guys, doesn't look good to the press."
Oh, I had no doubt the press was going to have a field day with this story, whether we killed anyone or not. The head of a SWAT unit, attacked in his own home—which used to be the home of a notorious mobster—while the police commissioner and the district attorney were there?
Oh yeah, we were cannon fodder.
I kept a firm hold of the shotgun when Sam opened the back door and then followed him out. The door off the kitchen led to a small porch on the side of the house. From there, if we turned left, we could go to the garage. If we kept going straight, we could go around the back of the house where the pool and pool house were located.
When we reached the end of the house, Sam crouched down near the edge of the wall and some bushes. I crouched down a little behind him. "Do you see anything?" I whispered.
Sam shook his head and then gave me the signal to proceed.
I darted out from behind him and moved to the next object large enough to hide behind. The two lounge chairs didn't offer much of a cover, but it was all I had between us and the pool house.
"Pool house?" I asked Sam when he squatted down beside me.
Sam nodded.
I stayed where I was as Sam got up and sprinted for the door on the side of the pool house. He had to go halfway around the pool to reach it since the pool was between the pool house and the main house.
I started to get up to join Sam when two men with guns and dressed in black right down to the masks on their faces came around the far side of the house. They were walking right toward Sam, who had his back to them as he tried to look through the sliding doors into the pool house.
"Sam!" I shouted as I jumped up and started firing.
One of the men went down, but the other ran back around the side of the house, firing in my direction the entire time. I cast one quick look toward Sam to make sure he wasn't hurt and then jumped up and raced after the guy. I knew Sam would see to the man I shot.
When I reached the side of the house, I slowed and moved to the edge. I wasn't stupid enough to go running around it until I checked to see who might be waiting for me.
Just as soon as I saw the three armed men headed in my direction, I spun around and started racing back toward Sam. "Go! Go!"
Sam grabbed the guy I'd shot by the back of his collar, pushed open the door of the pool house, and pulled him inside. I dove through the doorway and kicked the door closed just as bullets started flying. I flattened myself on the floor and covered my head as they ripped through the wall. Bits and pieces of plaster and shattered glass rained down on top of me.
"Are you hurt?" I asked when the bullets finally stopped.
"No, I'm good."
I grabbed the shotgun, scrambled to my feet, and hurried over to the wall before crouching down. When I peeked around the edge of the broken sliding glass door, I spotted the three men advancing on our hiding spot.
I waved Sam over to me then pointed to the far side of the doorway. I used the hand gestures Sal had trained us on so he'd know what I wanted him to do. After a moment, Sam nodded and hurried to the spot I'd indicated.
I wanted him to wait until the three men were close enough for the shotgun to do some damage, and then we'd open fire.
The waiting was the worst.
When they started to get close enough, I held up my hand and then lowered one finger at a time until I'd made a complete fist. I grabbed the shotgun with both hands, aimed the barrel out the doorway, and opened fire.
Two of the men went down immediately, but the third jumped into the pool to avoid the rubber bullets, although I doubted he knew they were made of rubber.
