Another monitor in the van caught his attention. A red dot blinked on and off. “There, he’s in the master bedroom…wait a minute. We have another marker going off.” Headlights flashed on yet another screen. A car pulled into Nico’s gated driveway. “Uh-oh. We got trouble.”
“I hate it when you say that.” Taylor pulled closer.
“See that second dot? That’s one of Nico’s cars.”
“If Nico is in the bedroom, who’s using his wheels?”
“His family-wife and daughter. I thought they were supposed to be away for the weekend. Up at their place in Tahoe.”
“Must be a change in plans.”
Gerrit leaned back in the swivel chair. “This complicates everything. SWAT’s going to hit that place in just a few minutes. And now we have two innocents in the way. One of them a five-year-old girl.” He snatched up the portable. “Team leader to Alpha One.”
“Go, Team Leader.” Special Agent Peter Finch, SWAT leader, continued. “We just moved into place. Ready to move out?”
“Stand down until further notice. I’ll eighty-seven you in two.”
Finch keyed the mike twice in acknowledgment.
Taylor leaned over. “Where you going, Gerrit? The entry team’s all set. Just waiting for the warrants to get here.”
“I’m going in with them. Need to protect that child. This jerk might use his own child as leverage.”
“Oh, man, Gerrit. Can’t you just let someone else handle this?”
“Stats just changed, Mark. Before, our safety margin was high-90 percent chance of our people staying safe with shock and awe. Now, that just changed. With innocent people on board, our chances dropped 50 percent because our guys might have to hold back their firepower. I’ve got an idea to change that threat ratio.”
Gerrit snatched up his Heckler amp; Koch MP5 submachine gun and several extra magazines, slipping out the door before his partner started in again. The salty night breeze swept up the hillside, off the ocean, like a cool sweep of a hand. He inserted an extension wire to his portable, plugging an earpiece in place before clipping the radio to his belt.
He scrambled toward the SWAT van a block ahead. He tapped twice on the rear door and climbed in. The target residence stood another fifty yards away, hidden by a dense cluster of trees.
Inside, Peter Finch, greased up for war, edged in Gerrit’s direction. “For crying out loud, Gerrit, we’re ready to go in right now.”
Gerrit pulled out a portable monitor, showing GPS markers blinking in the darkened command van. “The target’s family just showed up. We have to adjust our entry and takedown.”
Muted red illumination inside the vehicle did little to conceal the tenseness in Finch’s face. “We can’t change our plans. My men will separate the family from Nico when we hit the place.”
“Not good enough. I have to know that the woman and child are safe. I’m going in with you, Finch.”
The FBI agent bristled. “No way. You haven’t-”
“Served with the U.S. Marines in three wars-Gulf War, Afghanistan, and Second Gulf War. Member of Seattle PD’s SWAT team. I think I can handle a simple entry. Besides, it’s my decision-not yours.”
Finch surrendered. “Stay behind the entry team until we cross the threshold. Right on my butt. We’ll snatch the wife and child together.”
It was Gerrit’s turn to relent. Nodding, he glanced at the mobile monitor patched in from the other van. A red dot emanated from the car inside the garage. “Family may already be inside. Give me updated readings from our heat sensors showing where everyone’s located. I don’t have Nico locked down. Taylor just advised the paper is in hand.”
Finch whispered into his mike, waited a few seconds, then nodded. “You’re right. A woman and child just went upstairs where Nico might be. There are five other bad guys; one at the top of the stairs and four downstairs. It’s time to move out…now!”
Gerrit nodded.
Finch broadcasted his orders. As Gerrit followed him out the van, his cell phone vibrated. He pulled it out. Marilynn. “Hold up. AUSA calling in.”
Finch let out a groan at the assistant U.S. attorney’s timing.
Gerrit raised the phone to his ear. “What’s up, Marilynn? We’re on the move.”
“I need you here in D.C. immediately. Something’s come up.”
“Unless it’s about this operation, I don’t have time to chat.”
Marilynn’s voice cut in before he could kill the connection. “Have Taylor connect with the FBI. They can run the show without you. I need you on a plane tonight.”
“Forget it. I’m going in with the entry team. Everything’s in play.”
“This is much more important, Gerrit. Hand it off. That’s an order.”
“Marilynn, you don’t call the shots on these operations.” He killed the connection and jammed the phone into his pocket. Something about her voice sounded odd. Not Marilynn’s normal confidence coming through. She seemed worried.
Gerrit grasped his MP5 and signaled Finch it was a go. Time to take care of business.
Chapter 4
The SWAT team huddled together, waiting for the command to strike. As he watched them line up, Gerrit tried to focus on the operation at hand, but Marilynn’s call kept troubling him. Something was off. This case represented her pride and joy, an operation she’d been orchestrating since day one. For her to jump on a plane and head to the nation’s capital and then to call him like that was beyond bizarre. He tried to shake it off as SWAT neared the front door.
A moment later, the SWAT leader whispered, “Now.” All sources of light on the property vanished. Gerrit flicked on his night-vision scope as they scurried across the driveway, approaching the front door.
“Go,” Finch hissed into his radio.
Breaking glass carried across the night air, followed by simultaneous explosions. The entry team slammed the door with a metal ram like Nordic raiders breaking into a fortified castle. “Go, go, go!”
The team rushed across the threshold and into the darkness, one man peeling to the right, the next one to the left, each trying to cross the kill zone as quickly as possible before armed inhabitants began firing.
Gerrit followed Finch inside. He saw movement to the right and a high-caliber assault rifle flashed. Several SWAT members returned fire, short bursts from their own H amp;Ks leveled at the gunman. Nico’s man screamed, followed by silence. One down.
More quick bursts came from the rear of the house. In the lobby, Gerrit moved toward the stairs that spiraled upward. Using the wall as cover, he started to climb the first stair until he saw movement. A shooter emerged and sprayed the lobby with a Mac 10.
Gerrit found himself caught in the open. He rolled away and dived through a doorway at the foot of the stairs. Scrambling to his feet, he risked a quick peek around the corner.
Another burst of gunfire sprayed the lobby. A child screamed. The sound seemed to come from the back of the house behind the gunman.
The shooter fired blindly. The bad guy could only see what his muzzle flash showed after each explosion.
Gerrit prayed the child and mother made it to the back bedroom. He waited until the gunman went silent, and then fired two short bursts across the top of the stairway where the shooter crouched. He leaped backward out of the gunman’s field of fire.
Silence.
He slowly peered around the corner, allowing his night-vision scope to refocus. The gunman lay draped across the stairway, his weapon lying on one of the stairs several feet away.
Gerrit hurried up the stairway just as he heard someone behind him. He whirled and raised his H amp;K before realizing it was Finch. Lowering his weapon, he held up three fingers, then pointed toward the back of the house on the second floor.
Finch nodded, gesturing for Gerrit to lead.
He began climbing the stairs, staying to the far right of the stairway and brushing the wall with his body. Every few steps, Gerrit paused and listened.