Home Invasion - J. A. Johnstone [31]
Both front doors popped open. The two men in the car had to struggle a little to get out past the air bags that had deployed because of the collision. That slowed them down just enough to give Ford a chance to aim.
He figured they were both wearing bulletproof vests, so he drew a bead on the driver’s head and squeezed off two swift shots. The gun in the man’s hand went off, firing wildly as Ford’s bullets drilled through his brain and flung him back over the vehicle’s crumpled hood.
The wrecked car gave the passenger some cover. He was on the same side as Parker and the target. Ford couldn’t get a shot from where he was, and as he sprinted toward the back of the car, he didn’t know if he could get around there in time to save his partner. The killer wouldn’t get away, he vowed, but obviously the men who were after the blond kid were willing to give up their own lives to get rid of him.
Parker wasn’t defenseless, though. He rolled, braced himself on his hands, and swept both legs against the side of the would-be assassin’s left leg. That knocked the man’s feet out from under him. He sat down hard beside the car. His gun went off as he fell, but it was pointed into the air, not at Parker or the blond man.
Ford pounded around the back of the wrecked car. He fired again, a double tap that turned the second killer’s face into an ugly crimson smear.
Parker scrambled to his feet. He had hold of the blond man’s arm and dragged him upright, too.
“Let me go, let me go!” the man babbled. “I won’t tell, I swear! I swear!”
Ford and Parker ignored his plea. Ford grabbed the blond man’s other arm. He was small enough and the two agents were big enough so that when they took off running, his feet lifted from the ground and he dangled between them like a child.
“Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God!” he screamed.
People in the other motel cabins pushed curtains aside and looked out the windows to see what all the commotion was about, but they didn’t emerge from the cabins.
The elderly clerk tottered out of the office, though, holding a sawed-off shotgun. “I told you I didn’t want no trouble!” he yelled at Ford and Parker as they fled past him with their prisoner. He swung the sawed-off after them but pulled the triggers too soon. The weapon went off with a thunderous roar and pelted some parked cars with its double load of buckshot.
The recoil was powerful enough to throw the feeble old man backward, through the open door into the tiny office.
The agents reached the pickup. Parker jerked the driver’s door open and practically threw the blond man into the cab. He went in next, sliding behind the wheel. Ford’s long legs carried him around the F-150 as the prisoner tried to open the passenger door and escape. Ford was right there to stop him, shoving him back against Parker. Ford jumped in and slammed the door. The kid was pinned between them now.
Ford had been driving before. He’d left the keys in the ignition, so all Parker had to do was twist the switch, throw the pickup into gear when the engine started, and tromp the gas. A shower of gravel spurted from under the wheels as the pickup took off. It skidded out of the parking lot onto the street. The freeway was a couple of blocks away. Parker headed for it, knowing they had to put some distance between themselves and this latest scene of violence.
Then they would have to steal another vehicle. This one would be too hot, too fast.
The prisoner was blubbering by now as he huddled between the two big men. “Don’t kill me, please don’t kill me,” he said in a voice choked by terror. “I won’t tell anybody what I know. I’ll never say anything about Casa del Diablo!”
Ford and Parker exchanged a glance over the prisoner’s head as the pickup rocketed along the surface streets, squealing around corners and jumping red lights. The same thought went through their heads. Casa del Diablo … CDD. It seemed like a safe bet that whatever was in that protected