“The monitors are coming online. One SUV is stopped in front of the gate and another is skidding in behind it. No other potential threats visible.”
Skidding to a stop wasn’t a maneuver common to FedEx contractors or even the alcoholic relatives of their next-door neighbor. The chances of this being a false alarm were fading fast.
“The passenger of the lead SUV is stepping out. He looks… I’d swear Latino. Lots of tattoos, no obvious weapons, but he’s got something in his hand. Okay… He’s taping it to the latch. It’s got to be an explosive.”
Her voice betrayed nothing—no fear, doubt, or hesitance. Sometimes it was easy to forget, but when she needed to be, Claudia Gould was a consummate professional.
“It’s going to work,” Rapp said in an equally businesslike tone. “That isn’t the Virginia gate.”
In fact, it was just a simple set of iron bars with a standard locking mechanism and retail hinges. Once the bolt was defeated, the only thing holding it shut would be the flimsy machinery that allowed them to open and close it by remote control.
He was temped to go to the windows, but resisted. Claudia had high-definition audio-video of the house and grounds, as well as control over every relevant electronic system. No reason to put himself in harm’s way until it was absolutely necessary.
“Should I activate the alarm, Mitch?”
It was connected to a private armed response company that would dispatch someone and notify the police. In the end, though, they would just add to the unpredictability of the situation. At best they’d get in his way and at worst they’d get themselves killed.
“Negative,” he said. “Not unless I go down.”
The muffled sound of an explosion reached him as he entered the kitchen and opened a drawer in the granite island. It was on full-extension slides but stopped three-quarters into its travel. A hard yank broke the piece of wood blocking it, revealing a Glock 19 and two spare magazines at the back. He had similar stashes all over the house, but none were as accessible as he would have liked. The price of living with a seven-year-old.
“They’re using one of the SUVs to push through the gate and—”
He heard Anna say something unintelligible. Whatever it was got an immediate response from her mother. “Get back down on the floor and shut your mouth!”
Not surprisingly, barely audible sobs ensued.
“It’s okay,” Rapp said calmly. “One step at a time. Are they through yet?”
“Yes. One man on foot. He’s holding a pistol but I can’t see what kind. The others are still in the vehicles. One driving toward the front door, the other toward the east wall.”
What happened next wasn’t hard to predict.
“The dogs are coming around from the back, Mitch. Anna! Stay under the table and keep your head down! It’s going to be okay.”
Rapp jogged into the living room but stayed near the back wall. The sound of revving engines was followed by rapid firing from what sounded like a single weapon. He moved to a position where he could see what was happening through the westernmost living room window. The shooting went silent when Aisha and Jambo collided with the man. He lost his grip on his weapon and was relegated to trying to fight them off with bare hands. A few moments later, Rapp’s concerns about Anna’s dogs being more bark than bite were laid to rest. Their muzzles were stained red and their victim was no longer a threat.
“The one on foot looks to be out of the fight,” Claudia said. “Men are getting out of both vehicles.”
“Can you give me a head count? I can’t see from my position.”
“Not yet,” she said. “The dogs are going after the car along the wall.”
Rapp moved right until that vehicle came into view. Both animals hit their targets: the first two men out of the SUV’s driver-side doors. Both intruders were thrown back and both went down, one firing reflexively but not hitting anything. The smaller of the two dogs was the smartest. She went straight for the throat and started shaking the man by it.
The other had her target by the arm. He seemed to have panicked to the point that he’d forgotten the purpose of guns and instead of shooting was using his as an ineffectual club.
“I’ve got the vehicle by the wall in view,” Rapp said. “Talk to me about the other one.”
“Stand by… Okay. They’re out. Five men in total.”
All were out of the east one as well. The remaining two men had wisely exited the other side and were coming around the front and back. The fact that the dogs were now more or less stationary made them easy targets. They went down in a hail of bullets, but not until after leaving two men dead and one injured. The odds against Rapp had been significantly reduced but, at the same time, a number of questions had been raised. Most important, who were these assholes? Not pros. They seemed more like a group of drug cartel enforcers he’d once faced in California.