“Because you’re going to kill her.”
Rogers looked puzzled. “What do you care?”
Myers didn’t answer.
Chapter
60
PULLER, KNOX, AND Shepard were under the table in the café. Puller and Knox had their guns out. Shepard was screaming hysterically.
The café, which had been quiet moments before, had erupted into chaos as the customers screamed, ran, jumped, and shoved trying to escape.
Puller reached a hand over and gripped Shepard’s shoulder. “You’re okay,” he said in a calming tone. “The shooter’s gone. You’re okay. Do you understand me?” He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.
She finally quieted and gave him a jerky nod. “Okay.”
“I want you to stay right here. The cops will be on their way. You’re safe, okay, Anne? You’re safe.”
She gave him another nod and then a tight smile. “You…you saved my life.”
“I’m glad I was here.”
“Me too.”
“We’ll be back.”
Puller and Knox reached the front door of the café. Puller did a turkey peek through the opening, found it clear, and they raced out into the street.
“How did you manage that?” she asked.
“I saw the shooter reflected in the mirror at the back of the café.”
A woman was squatting down on the pavement crying. She saw Puller and Knox with their guns out. She put up her hands and said, “Please, don’t shoot me.”
Puller whipped out his badge. “I’m a cop. Are you hurt?”
She shook her head.
“Did you see the shooter?” asked Knox.
She pointed to her left. “Down that alley. Tall guy in a black hoodie with a rifle.”
Puller and Knox raced off, turned the corner, and headed down the alley. They could hear police sirens in the distance. It was well dark now and Puller was listening to the pounding footsteps ahead of him.
They reached another street, turned left, and raced down it. They saw a shadow of movement dart down another alley.
They reached the opening, paused for a few moments, and then entered. They kept going, following the steps ahead. But when they stopped, so did Puller. He held up a hand for Knox to do the same.
Puller was in full combat mode now. And he wasn’t liking what he was seeing.
He looked back at the other end of the alley. In the dark there wasn’t much to see. But he had senses honed to such a fine degree that he could see what others couldn’t.
“What is it?” Knox said in a whisper, hunkered down next to him.
Puller shook his head slightly. He could no longer hear the sirens. The police must have already reached the café.
It had been risky. Done in a public place. And the shooter letting himself be seen in the mirror? A rookie error? Or a calculated maneuver?
Because here we are, blocks away from the scene, in the middle of a dark alley with both flanks exposed.
Puller pulled out his second M11 from the holster in his rear waistband. He leaned into Knox. “Trap,” he muttered. “Keep your eyes and ears open and your pistol ready.”
She looked behind and then up ahead. “The woman back on the street?”
“Part of it,” said Puller in a tone so low only she could hear. “Most people aren’t that observant when shots are being fired. Should’ve seen that. She led us right here.”
“What do we do now?”
“We move.”
Keeping low, he led her twenty more feet down the alley, even as they both now heard footsteps behind them.
They were in a pincers trap that Puller knew well because he’d used it many times in combat. Whoever was back there had some military or at least paramilitary training.
If whoever was tracking them had NV goggles and/or laser sights, this would not be a long fight.
She pulled out her phone and looked at it in disbelief: She had no bars.
Puller glanced at her. “I already checked mine. They’re jamming the signal.”
“Great. So you say we don’t go fore or aft? Then where do we go?”
“We go up.”
“What, so they can trap us on the roof?”