The first shot hit Foche in his right shoulder. It jerked his body back and to the right and Wire’s second shot hit him in the upper right chest and the third shot in the middle of his chest, blowing him back into the dining room wall.
* * *
Kristoff saw the first flash and then two more quick light flashes from Foche’s silencer, light flashes you would only notice if you were looking for them. He was waiting for the fourth when he heard the Pop-Pop-Pop and saw the three muzzle flashes.
That wasn’t right.
“Foche! Foche!” he pleaded urgently into the mic. There was no response. “Francois! Francois!”
This wasn’t right at all.
* * *
Wire moved quickly to the shooter, gun pointed straight at him. He was unconscious but not dead. The man was bleeding from his chest. She reached around his back for a wallet but he wasn’t carrying one. Wire looked back to Shelby who ran over to Sebastian. She rolled him over onto his back and Wire saw the blood and bullet holes in his white dress shirt, two shots to the heart. Her friend was dead. To Sebastian’s right was Montgomery, lying on his back, a bullet hole between his eyes.
In the eerie quiet of the house, Wire heard a car door slam. She noticed the earbud and cord running down the shooter’s neck. Then she heard footsteps on the sidewalk running along the front of the house.
There wasn’t much time.
“Kate! Kate!” she whispered to Shelby who was holding McCormick’s hand in hers. “We gotta get out of here.” Wire looked at the backpack and laptop and asked. “Are those Montgomery’s?”
“Y… y… yes.”
“Put the laptop in the backpack and let’s go.”
Shelby was frozen.
“Now, Kate!” Wire whispered urgently.
Shelby snapped out of it and grabbed the laptop, slipping it into the backpack while she followed Wire to the back of the house. Wire took a quick look out. “Stay right behind me, right behind me, do you understand?”
Shelby nodded.
Wire pointed across the alley. “We are going to run right across the alley, between those two houses. My Acadia is parked on St. Clair. It’s running. The Judge is waiting. Ready?”
Shelby, still crying, sniffled and nodded.
The two slipped out the back door, hustled down the steps and sidewalk and reached the edge of McCormick’s garage. Wire peeked around the corner of the garage to her left. She grabbed Shelby by the arm and dragged her forward and whispered urgently: “Go! Go! Go!”
Shelby sprinted across the alley. Wire was right behind when the headlights lit her up from the left. Coming hard and fast down the alley was a black SUV.
“Go!” Wire yelled to Shelby. Wire stopped on the far side of the alley, set her feet and fired at the SUV, hitting the windshield three times, causing it to veer left into a wood fence. She looked back to McCormick’s and she could see two bodies approaching the back door from the inside and they got a glimpse of her.
Wire sprinted after Shelby who was through the two houses. “Get in the backseat! Get in the backseat!” Wire ordered. As Shelby jumped into the backseat, Wire ran around the front of the Acadia and quickly looked back for pursuers. Seeing none, she jumped into the driver side. She threw the SUV in gear and punched the gas and accelerated east on St. Clair, looking alternately forward and in the rearview mirror. “Judge, keep an eye on our six.”
“What the hell happened, Dara?” the Judge demanded. “Where’s Sebastian?”
“He’s dead.”
* * *
Mac was cruising twenty above the speed limit, his light flashing, as he sped east on Interstate 94, crossing over the Mississippi River when his police radio burped, “All units be advised. We have a report of shots fired on West Berkeley Avenue, between Cretin and Finn.”
“That’s Sebastian’s block!!” Sally wailed, terrified for her friends. “Mac, we gotta get there.”
“Hang on.” Mac buried the accelerator and watched the needle quickly pass one hundred miles per hour. Then he punched a button on his cell phone. “Dick, get over to Sebastian McCormick’s house fast as you can.” Mac gave him the address and a quick rundown of the call from the Judge and the shots fired call. “And get a hold of Riles and Rock. We’re going to need the help. This Stroudt thing just blew up. Way up!”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Where is the first shooter?”
Mac accelerated south down Cretin Avenue, a patrol unit falling in behind him with the rollers going and siren