“Was that the only one?” Carl said.
“Just the one,” Larison said, his gun up, the muzzle tracking as he searched left and right.
“Then it’s zero,” Carl said, “’cause this one is dead.”
Livia realized she hadn’t been giving them credit for knowing each other’s moves. Carl hadn’t been telling Larison to move. He’d been drawing the shooter’s attention, giving Larison a chance to get the drop on him.
They went down the stairs, Livia in the lead, Larison behind her, Carl bringing up the rear with the AA-12. Livia didn’t know whether there were any others, and her instinct was to slow things down. Speed and surprise had gotten them this far. Care and control were how they would see it through.
They checked the garage first. There were two cars, and it took them a minute to make sure the interiors were empty and the area was clear. Carl put his hand on one hood, then the other.
“This one’s warm,” he said. “Got here not long ago. Maybe to pass off Schrader, or to change shifts, or whatever. Probably why Tom’s intel about their numbers was off.”
They moved back through the house, fanning out near the door to the rec room. “Give me that shotgun,” Larison whispered to Carl. “And go back out. When you hear shooting, put another flashbang through the window.”
Carl nodded. He handed the AA-12 to Larison and went out. Larison holstered his Glock. He looked at Livia and smiled. “We having fun yet?”
She didn’t see the humor. She was too aware of why they were there, and what was at stake. “It’ll be fun when we have Schrader,” she said.
“Then let’s get him. You ready?”
She nodded. He backed up, aimed the AA-12 at the doorknob at a sharp angle, and—
BAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAM! Shards of wood flew through the air. Silence, then—
A giant BOOM! from inside. The flashbang.
Larison kicked open the door and pointed the shotgun. Livia dashed up alongside him, aiming the Glock—
The room was filled with smoke, but she saw him immediately. In the corner. Schrader. For a second, she thought he had two heads. Because behind him, pressing his cheek to one side of Schrader’s face and the muzzle of a pistol to the other, was another man. They were both blinking and coughing.
“I’ll kill him!” the man shouted. “I’ll fucking kill him!”
Carl ripped the curtains away and took aim. Larison sighted down the shotgun.
“Wait!” Livia yelled. “Wait!” From where he was standing outside the window, Carl couldn’t have had more than an inch of the guy’s face. And the shotgun wasn’t a precision weapon.
“Back up!” the man shouted. “Back the fuck up or I swear to God I’ll blow him away!”
“Just let him go!” Livia shouted, pointing the Glock. She was ninety percent sure of the shot. But ninety percent wasn’t good enough. “Can you hear me? Let him go and you can walk out of here.”
The man blinked furiously, fighting the blinding effects of the flashbang. “No way!” he screamed. “All of you, back up or he’s dead!”
“Listen to me!” Livia said. “You shoot him and you’re dead a second after. But we don’t know who you are. And we don’t care. We’re here for Schrader. Walk away and we never saw you. That simple. Just walk away.”
The man didn’t answer. He was panting, his eyes darting from her to Larison to Carl and back. He wanted to believe. She could feel it. She prayed Carl and Larison would for once keep their mouths shut.
“We’re going to lower our guns,” she said, glancing at Larison. His eyes bulged, but she glared at him, then looked back to the guy behind Schrader. After a second, Larison lowered the muzzle of his Glock a little. She did the same.