Page 28 of Thorn

A brick skittered across the wooden floor in a veil of shards. A black canister flew the same path. “Flashbang!” he yelled as the smoke filled the room. He covered his ears, squeezed his eyes tightly shut, and hunkered down against the wall as the explosive wentBOOM!

Even with a second to get himself in position, Thorn was off balance from the assault on his senses. His hand on the wall, he moved past where Gage was throwing a shoulder against the bathroom door, trying to break in and grab hold of DuBois.

Thorn was deaf except for the high pitch shrill of his eardrums. Coughing on the smoke that filled his lungs and made his eyes water, at the end of the hall, Thorn dropped to a knee and reflexively reached for his non-existent gun.Damn it.

Someone was banging a breecher’s ram into the front door. But it was reinforced, giving them the time they needed. Every second counted.

Thorn turned to give Gage a hand as he wrangled Dr. DuBois down the hall toward the kitchen. The two of them forced DuBois out the back door.

DuBois was fighting like a madman, wind-milling his arms and refusing to walk. Gage clocked him in the jaw with his famous right hook, and DuBois crumpled to the ground. Thorn caught the guy around the ankles and pressed forward toward the garden gate with Gage struggling backward, holding the man under the arms.

The sound of sirens, swirling their way from the distance, was no comfort. They were, in fact, kidnapping the scientist. No amount of “By contract…” would help them in court, especially if their contractor refused to step forward and reveal their letters.

They passed out of the gate where Honey was pummeling the Tibor guy. So it was the Omega crew that had found the safe house, not Brigitte and the DGSE.

Out of the corner of his eye, Thorn saw Honey’s lips moving as he yelled. Thorn still wasn’t hearing clearly − his senses still had him reeling from the explosives. But something heavy left Honey’s hand and came tumbling through the air in his direction. Thorn’s hand shot out and snagged the Glock that Honey must have wrestled from Tibor. With another blow from Honey’s massive fist, Tibor was out for the count.

Thorn covered the team while Gage dragged DuBois. They made it to the alley. An old-fashioned car sat rusted and tiny but unlocked at the house next door. Gage shoved DuBois in the back, while Thorn crouched at the driver’s side. There, Thorn quickly hotwired what looked like their only means of escape. Honey piled into the front seat just as the engine caught.

They were crammed in like sardines – no, more like a damned clown car, rolling down the hill. Thorn shoved his foot to the floorboard, almost standing on the pedal but the car had no oomph. Thorn thought if it weren’t for gravity, they’d be going nowhere. “We need a different strategy,” Thorn called over the coughs and wheezing of the engine and the tinnitus that made communication a challenge.

“You were followed?” Gage yelled from the backseat. He held DuBois’s head in an armlock to keep him still.

“Hell no, I wasn’t followed. What the fuck was he doing in the can that long? Did you take his phone away from him?” Thorn yelled over his shoulder.

Gage patted DuBois down and came up with a cell phone.

DuBois’s fight kicked up again, and Honey reached his massive paw around and stilled him under his grip.

“Son of a bitch,” Gage spat out. “They texted him. He was in there telling them how to find us.”

“They’re one down – the guy in the garden has a broken knee cap,” Honey said. “Anyone see Billy Watts or Colburn?”

“I didn’t. If they positioned Tibor out back,” Thorn said, “the other two were probably coming in from the front. Surprise, guns, and a willing, participating asshole hiding in a known location, and it should have been an easy snatch and go. The car had to be coming down the hill, because I walked up from the bus stop. I didn’t see anyone coming.”

“So processing the shit show, my guess is they ran through the house, got eyes on our direction of travel, gathered up Tibor and got him to the car and away from the cops, drove down to the next cross street, and around the corner. That takes time.”

“Their vehicle probably goes faster than a scooter,” Honey pointed out.

Thorn lifted his foot and stomped down again hoping for a burst of energy from the engine. He got a backfire and a wheeze. “We need to ditch this car.”

“And do what with this sack of shit?” Gage asked.

“Hand him over to DGSE,” Thorn said. He didn’t mean it, but he wanted DuBois to know that was indeed an option.

“Here we go,” Gage said as a black car roared down the hillside and rammed them from behind, pushing them out into the intersection and spinning them in place. Horns blared, brakes squealed as those around him tried to make way.

Thorn had his eye on the left road and spun his steering wheel in the direction of their rotation, felt the mechanism align with the tires, and brought them around. Only then did Thorn put his foot back on the pedal and push them forward. They drove down the new hill, all of them leaning forward as if that might give the car some small advantage.

Nutsbe was suddenly in his ear. “Right, then next right, then second left.”

Theykathunkedover a pot hole, and Thorn did his best to keep them ahead of the black car that was back in his rearview mirror.

He took the next right-hand turn. Another right. Then wheezed down to the second left, wondering how Nutsbe had devised to save their asses.

Thorn came to a sudden stop, jerking the car into a space directly in front of the police station.

The black car skated by with no stopping room.

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