Page 15 of All Twisted Up
“Alain! Come in.”
I heard a grunt of pain in the earwig and held my breath when he didn’t immediately reply. “Affirmative, Captain,” Alain finally drawled. “He winged me in the shoulder, but I’m fine. Took cover behind a dumpster, but I can’t see him now. Sorry, sir…couldn’t get off more than a shot or two before he hit me. Look for a short, bald, Hispanic armed with a TEC-9.”
“How bad are you hit?”
Alain breathed heavily. “Just…looks like he just grazed me.”
“Hold in place, Almond!” Candy shouted. “Clifford…can you see the shooter?” He was running again. “Monroe?”
“No, sir!” Clifford said. “Too many civilians on the street, Captain.”
“Shit,” Rex drawled. I heard several spits of the sniper rifle followed by a whole lot of curses. “Too many civilians blockin’ a clean shot, Captain. I can’t get a bead on him without riskin’ collateral damage.” He swore a slew of curses I’d never heard from the Texan…but it was something about cattle. I held my breath. “Son-of-a-bitch! He broke into the souvenir shop, and I can no longer see him at height, sir.”
“Good! Smith! You’re up,” Candy ordered. “Subject located in the souvenir/gift shop. You know what you need to do. Make sure that fucker can’t exit the rea—”
His words were cut off as Clifford shouted. “Wait!” He groaned. “Shite!”
“Talk to me, Clifford,” Candy said.
“He’s got a…fuck me! He’s got a hostage, sir. Someone must have been in that shop next door because he grabbed a young Asian girl.”
I glanced at Mickey.
“No doubt the family has an apartment above the store,” he said. “If Gomez has a kid, this thing just got a whole lot worse.”
I glanced at the two men with us. Both stared back with wide eyes. “A kid?” the gray eyed one asked.
I ignored him, looking back at Mickey then at the man again. “Don’t worry. Our men are the best and they’ll protect her with their lives.”
He swallowed hard and nodded.
I knew how he felt, though. Being trapped here, unable to see anything with my own eyes was frustrating. Knowing what was going on outside only through the eyes of our snipers as they reported the action in our coms, was horrible. Marines were not trained to sit back and do nothing. Realizing that a small childand no doubt other family members were in danger, made me sick to my stomach.
“Good? Smith? You in position?”
“In position, sir,” Patsy drawled. “Covering the door to the alley. If he exits through it, I’ve got him.”
“Yes, sir,” Smith sounded off, the deep baritone in his voice more soothing to me than he knew. “Don’t you worry. Irish and I have this.”
“Roger. Watch that back entrance like your lives depend on it. We’re not letting this guy get away.”
“Roger, Captain,” came Patsy’s reply.
I moved closer to the missing window and looked down at the BearCat. Clifford was still lying flat on the roof, staring at the store through his sniper rifle, and Candy was jogging up to it.
“You got him, Marshall?” I heard the question in my earwig.
“Yeah, sir, but the manky bastard has the kid in a headlock, crouched down behind her,” Clifford replied. “Can’t get a clear shot.”
“On my go, put a couple rounds in the wall above his head,” Candy said. “We need to flush him out the back to Good and Smith.”
“Roger.”
I watched Candy climb into the BearCat, his big form impossible to miss as he moved into the driver’s seat and lifted binoculars to his eyes. No more than ten seconds passed before he gave the order.
“Go.”
The muzzle flash from the sniper rifle was instantaneous as Clifford took his shot. Distantly, I heard glass shatter.
