next round slammed into his face and his UMP went silent.
Lines of fire started coming from the catwalk. Forty-caliber rounds ricocheted off the concrete floor as Mace threw herself behind the guts of a retooling machine and fired off the rest of her mag, dropped it, and slapped in a new one as return fire pinged all around her. A chunk of wood got blown off the end of the table she was behind and she felt the tailing rip into her shoulder and slice across her cheek. Warm blood flowed down her face. Another round cut a groove across her left thigh, searing through her pants and tattooing her skin black.
She sprayed rounds at the catwalk, but even through her optics she couldn’t see much because of the smoke from all the weapons discharge. The remaining shooters had taken cover as well. And they had the high ground and superior firepower. Mace was pinned down. The logistics were depressingly simple. Without help it was only a matter of time before they were dead.
“Mace!’
She looked behind her to see Roy slumped over, his face twisted in pain. Even from this distance and with her field of vision a ghostly green Mace could see what she knew was his blood seeping across his shirt. Mary Bard was stooping over him, her knife pulling back for the final stroke while he frantically kicked at her.
“Roy!”
The explosion catapulted both front sliding doors a good ten feet across the floor. Out of the smoke came a sight Mace would never forget.
Twenty FBI Hostage Rescue Team armored assaulters loaded for war emerged from the smoke. Just the sight of these guys was enough to scare the hell out of anyone no matter how battle-tested. Knowing what was coming, Mace instantly dropped down and pulled the plugs from out of her boots and stuffed them in her ears. A second later an array of flash-bangs detonated.
As the HRT laid down precise walls of fire at the enemy positions exposed to their night optics, Mace turned and raced toward Roy. Mary Bard was on her side, dazed by the flash-bangs, blood trickling out of one ear. When she tried to rise up and finish off Roy, Mace leapt, the butt of her UMP catching the woman flush on the temple. She crumpled to the floor.
The all-clear sounded a minute later. Someone hit the wall lever and the interior of the building exploded with light.
“Man down,” screamed Mace. In the darkness she’d ripped open Roy’s shirt and used the cloth to stop the bleeding. As the medical support personnel that came on every HRT operation rushed forward, Mace told Roy, “You’re going to be okay.”
“I don’t feel like I’m going to be okay.”
“You can’t die, Roy.”
“Why?”
“I’ve got a pretty good feeling I’m going to need one kick-ass lawyer, and you’re the only one I know.”
He managed a weak smile before the medics took over. A few minutes later the chopper lifted off with them on their way to the nearest hospital.
CHAPTER 111
FORTY MINUTES later the tech with the headset jerked upright in his seat. On the screen an explosion had just rocked the camera. Beth put down the call she was on and joined them. They all stared dumbfounded at the sight on the screen as a fireball lit the sky.
“My God,” said an obviously shaken Burns. “They detonated a bomb.” He turned to the tech. “Get that chopper on the ground ASAP.”
The tech relayed these instructions and they watched as the chopper headed downward. A moment later the camera feed went dead. A tense minute went by and then the tech jerked again as a stream of words came over his headset. He nodded blankly, his face pale. He turned to the others. “The building was destroyed. There does not appear to be any survivors.”
“Are they sure it’s the right spot?” said Beth.
“They just pulled a body from the site,” said the tech as he glanced nervously at Beth. “A female body with a positive ID.”
“My God, Beth,” said Burns. “I’m so sorry.”
“I am too, Jarvis. I am too. Very sorry.”
Something in her tone made him look sharply at her.
“Beth? Are you all right?”
“Okay,” Beth called out loudly in the direction of the door.
It opened and in walked Sam Donnelly, along with a half dozen security officers. Behind him came Steve Lanier, the FBI AD, who was wearing a broad smile.
Burns looked from his boss to Beth and then back to his boss. “Sir, what the hell