“Roger that.” Mike was in uniform, radio mike attached to a loop on his shoulder. He spoke quietly into it, static cutting in and out.
Sam stared at the small arsenal he had.Don’t bring a knife to a gunfight. Match your weapon to your mission.Holy, sacred words that had been pounded into his head by every drill instructor he’d ever had. Matching your weapon to your mission was essential if you wanted to stay alive.
The mission was Nicole. But what was he facing here?
He tried to call her again, on the faintest hope that she’d closed the connection. Maybe now that she was in a taxi…
No such luck. Busy. She was following orders.
“Harry,” he called over his shoulder. “Where’s she going?”
“Heading out along the causeway. Maybe coming into town? No, she’s moving inland. Taxi’s moving real fast. Over the speed limit.”
Mouth grim, Sam turned back to the locker.
If you didn’t know your enemy, then you couldn’t go wrong with a long gun and a pistol. He chose an HK–91 with an already-mounted scope. He already had his Glock 19, good for close-in work. NVG. Three magazines for the HK, hanging off a belt. Who knew how much firepower he’d be needing?
He bent and put a small block of C–4 and three detonators inside a backpack. A lot of problems could be solved by C–4. Flashbangs, four grenades.
He had a full tactical suit in the locker, they all did. He stripped down to the skin and built a warrior from the skin out. Nomex suit, body armor.
Mike was stripping out of his cop uniform.
“Whoa, whoa, can’t come with me,” Sam growled to Mike as he zipped up. “You’re a police officer. This is an unsanctioned mission.” He met and held Mike’s eyes. “Internal Affairs will eat you alive if you come in with me. Stay out of this, it’s my fight.”
Mike lifted out his precious Remington 700. “Fuck that,” he said, picking up three 4-round magazines. “You’re not going in alone.” He met Sam’s eyes. “And I’m not going to let McInerney take that great woman down.” His jaws clenched. “No way.”
“It might cost you your job.” Mike loved being a cop.
“Fuck that,” Mike said and calmly suited up.
Mike’s head was made of concrete. Once he made his mind up, Sam knew, there was no changing it. Mike was risking his job, they were both clear on that, Mike above all. Knowing Mike couldn’t be talked out of it, Sam allowed himself a little spurt of relief. Nicole was more likely to come out of this alive if Mike had his six.
Armed, they both turned to face Harry. He was standing, barely upright, leaning heavily on the crutches, white-faced with the effort, yet quivering with desire to go with them. The three men looked at one another, understanding one another perfectly.
Harry couldn’t go. Sam knew that Harry would give a kidney to be able to go, but he couldn’t. In his condition, he’d only be a drag. Possibly get them killed. Sam knew that if Harry had been in even a slightly better condition, he’d have insisted on coming.
His two brothers. Mike, willing to give up a job he loved for him, and Harry, sick because he was too weak to help.
Harry made a low growling noise in his throat and sat back down at the computer. At least he could help that way.
Sam was closing the locker door when Harry called out. Sam turned his head. Harry’s mouth was tight, his pale, thin face drawn with worry.
“What?”
“Lost her. The cab drove to the parking lot of the Westwood shopping mall and then she switched her cell off. It’s completely dead. There’s no way to track her now.”
Sam strode over to the monitor and punched in the LoJack code. “Yes, there is. I put a micro LoJack in her portable hard drive. She keeps that in her purse. She has her purse with her, I saw it on the security tape.”
They watched as the system processed the new info.
“Boy, that really breaks the girlfriend rule. She’ll give you hell for that, if she ever finds out.” Harry shook his head.
“I’ll take it, as long as she comes out of this alive.”
The monitor flashed a map, the grid of streets around the south part of town. A bright point was moving steadily south. “She’s on the move again.”Nicole, honey, Sam thought, heart heavy.Where are you headed? Where the fuck are they taking you?
Mike was speaking softly into the shoulder mike on the shirt he’d discarded.
