The Last Man: A Novel Page 0,49

his rifle around so he could go to work on the cops at the other end of the street when the air around him exploded with the sharp snaps of bullets. He dropped flat behind the lip as bullets began to thump into the stone like a jackhammer. It took a second to sink in, but Gould realized that his position had been discovered and that the men at the other end of street had something more to bring to the fight than the relatively light M-4 rifle. Since everything they had was provided by the Americans it was likely that it was the heavier-caliber M249 Squad Automatic Weapon or SAW. The machine gun fired the heavier 5.56x45mm NATO round and was effective out to one thousand yards. Gould guessed that they were firing from no farther than one hundred yards.

The machine gun continued to rake the edge of the roof, raining down shards of stone on Gould. For the moment all Gould could do was take cover beneath the edge of the roof and try to move to a different position. On his own, this was pure suicide. Gould began to wonder why he was sticking around. He had done his job and warned Rapp. True, the act had not been entirely selfless, as it had gotten him out of his own hot corner, but now he was in an even less desirable situation.

He glanced across the roof, wondering what lay on the other side. He couldn't tell if there was a small gap between the two buildings or if they shared a wall. Worst case, he'd have to jump a gap. He could then scurry across that roof and find access to the street. The police would be so focused on this gunfight that he was sure to go unnoticed. Gould made up his mind. He'd done enough, and martyrdom really didn't suit him, so better to bolt before another hundred cops showed up and brought this building down around them.

It was time to save his own ass, so without further internal debate Gould rolled onto his stomach and began to crawl toward the far side. He was halfway across when one of Rapp's men popped out of the hatch and asked, "Where you going?"

Gould ignored the question and said, "They're raking the parapet with machine-gun fire."

The man nodded, looked over at the parapet and asked, "Which direction is it coming from?"

Gould pointed to their left.

"All right, you get back over there near the middle, and when I give you the signal, stick your rifle over the parapet. Don't bother firing any shots until I've taken care of the machine gun. Go." Maslick watched the man crawl away and then scrambled over to the corner on all fours. Once in position, he checked his weapon and visualized what he was about to do. He then whistled and signaled for the man to make his move. Maslick watched as the black barrel went over the parapet. A split second later the position was hammered with incoming fire. Maslick shouldered his weapon and popped over the parapet. Below him, no more than fifty yards away, six green police pickups were blocking the intersection. Men were huddled behind each, but in the bed of one of the vehicles, a man was crouched down with an M249 in his hands and the bipod resting on the roof of the cab. Maslick brought the man into the center of his sights just as the machine gun ran out of ammunition. The police officer had turned to reach for another canvas ammunition drum, when Maslick shot him in the head.

The fact that Maslick had just killed someone who was more than likely on his side was irrelevant to the former Delta Force operator. The only thing on his mind, as he began shooting one man after another, was his friend Mick Reavers.

Chapter 19

THE ebb in the relative number of shots fired at the front entrance was bringing on a bit of an adrenaline hangover for Rapp. This wasn't the first time he'd experienced the physiological problem. It had happened many times before. It started with a dry throat and sour stomach. For most people it eventually led to a headache, sometimes one that was debilitating, but Rapp got only the dryness and the upset stomach. His hands used to get a little shaky and his vision would blur at the far edges, but he'd mastered those two crucial problems. Either through willpower or

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