a total of seventeen times,” said Robie. “Tires, windows, body. Ricochets, all of them. The Honda. The tree branch. I’ve probably got slugs all over the place here.”
“But that means—” began a palefaced Vance.
Robie finished for her: “—that the SUV was armored and had run-flat tires.”
She looked at him. “Those sorts of vehicles in D.C. aren’t that plentiful outside certain circles.”
“Mostly our own government’s.”
“So were they aiming to kill you, me, or both of us?” asked Vance.
“Shooter had an MP-5 set on full auto. That tends to be an indiscriminate weapon. Designed to kill everything in the zone.”
She looked at his arm and flinched. “Robie, you’re shot.”
He looked down at the blood on his upper arm. “It didn’t go in. Just a graze.”
“You’re still bleeding. A lot. I’ll call you an ambulance too.”
His voice was hard and fast. “Forget the ambulance, Vance. We need that SUV.”
She said coldly, “I told you, I already called it in. I’ve got my guys and MPD looking for it. It must have some dings on it from your rounds. Maybe that’ll help.”
Robie and Vance jogged back to the restaurant. Ignoring the obvious dead, he went from one wounded to the next, quickly triaging and stopping the bleeding with whatever was handy while Vance assisted. The Capitol Hill police joined in his effort.
When ambulances showed up and paramedics poured out, Robie left the wounded to them and walked across the street to check out his Audi. He saw the holes in the body. MP-5 rounds. Not ricochets from his pistol. They’d had another shooter on this side. That was not good. That meant they knew his vehicle.
Had they followed him here? If so…
He turned and ran back to Vance, who was talking to two MPD officers.
Robie interrupted. “Vance, can I borrow your wheels?”
“What?” she said, looking at him.
“Your car. I need to go somewhere right now. It’s important.”
She looked flustered, while the cops eyed Robie with suspicion.
Vance must’ve noted this because she said, “He’s with me.” She pulled out her keys. “Parked around the corner. Silver BMW convertible. Obviously my personal ride.”
“Thanks.”
“So be careful with it.”
“I’m always careful.
She dubiously eyed his shot-up Audi. “Right. But how am I going to get home?”
“I’ll come back and get you. I shouldn’t be long. I’ll call you when I’m on my way.”
He started to run off.
She called after him, “And please get your arm looked at.”
She watched him for a few moments before one of the cops said, “Um, Agent Vance?”
She glanced back, embarrassed, and continued filling them in.
CHAPTER
34
ROBIE SLID INTO the Beemer, started it, and peeled off. As he drove he called the phone he had left Julie. She didn’t answer.
Shit!
He punched it. Driving this fast in town, even at this late hour, was problematic. Traffic and lots of lights. And lots of cops.
But then he had a thought. Vance seemed the highly efficient type. That meant…
He looked over the dashboard. Then he saw the box under the steering column. It had been an add-on, obviously.
I love you, Agent Vance.
He hit the switch and blue grille lights were activated and a siren started blaring. He ran four red lights and shot across town so fast it would’ve made a kick-ass commercial for the German car company. Within minutes he found himself tearing down the street where his apartment was located. A couple of times he saw cops in cars glance suspiciously at the Beemer with police lights, but they let him go.
He parked on a side street, jumped out, and zigzagged his way on foot to the building where he’d left Julie. He took the stairs two at a time. He raced down the hall. He’d texted her twice on the way over and had gotten no response. He eyed the door. No forced entry. He pulled his gun, slid the key in the door, and eased it open.
The front room was dark. He did not hear the beep of the alarm. That was not good.
He closed the door behind him. He moved into the room, his gun swiveling in a defensive arc.
He didn’t call out, because he didn’t know who else might be in here.
He heard a noise and moved quietly into the shadows.
The footfalls were heading his way. He pointed his gun, ready to fire.
The light came on. He stepped out.
Julie screamed. “What the hell?” she gasped, holding her chest. “Are you trying to give me a freaking heart attack?”
She was dressed in pajamas and her hair was wet.
“You were in the shower?” he asked.
“Yeah.