Home Invasion - J. A. Johnstone [91]
Alex’s instincts took over. Her gut knew she had just seen one of her officers gunned down, even if her brain couldn’t quite grasp it yet. She stomped the brakes and spun the wheel, sending the police car into a skidding, screeching halt that left it sitting crossways in the street.
She threw the door open and rolled out as the hammering sound of automatic weapons fire blasted apart the early morning tranquility. Slugs pounded into the other side of the car. It was all that saved her from being killed like Jerry.
Her gun was in her hand. She didn’t even remember pulling it from its holster. As the yammering guns fell silent for a moment, she risked a look over the hood and saw dozens of armed men pouring out of the trucks.
Home was being invaded … again.
These men weren’t from the federal government, though. They were civilians, or at least they were dressed like civilians. They moved with military precision, though, as they began spreading out along the streets.
Alex couldn’t reach the radio in the car, but she had a portable clipped to her belt. She grabbed it and keyed the mike.
“Eloise! Jimmy! Whoever’s there! Officer down, officer down! I need help now in the center of town! Now!”
But was she just calling her people in to their deaths? she wondered. The strangers had way more firepower than her little department could muster.
When she released the microphone button, all she heard from the speaker was static. She tried calling the station again but got no response.
Alex dropped the radio and grabbed her cell phone. She flipped it open.
No signal.
That was crazy. All of Home had good cell phone reception.
The explanation hit her brain like a bombshell. The invaders had somehow knocked out all communications in the vicinity. They had to have some sort of machine emitting a powerful electromagnetic pulse that blocked digital signals. All the computers in town had probably gone haywire, too.
This bunch was ready for trouble, no doubt about that.
Alex heard shouting in Spanish. Somebody was giving orders. She risked another look. A man in fatigues and campaign cap had gotten out of one of the trucks. He was the only one in uniform and was obviously in command.
Alex heard a rush of footsteps nearby. She wheeled around and saw that a squad of the invaders had flanked her. She went to the pavement and fired three rounds. The shots missed, but the men ducked back.
She was going to die here. She was sure of it. She would never see Jack again, never get a chance to tell him goodbye. Never get a chance to tell him how much she loved him. She prayed to God that he knew that anyway. Her hand tightened on the gun butt and she swallowed hard as she waited for the killers to charge her again.
“Hold your fire!” a man called in English. “Hold your fire, por favor.”
A couple of tense seconds went by. Then the man said, “Señorita, can you hear me? I know you are either Chief Bonner or Officer Carlyle. Please throw out your weapon and surrender.”
Alex hesitated. The idea of surrendering didn’t sit well with her, especially after everything that had happened in the past week.
On the other hand, taking on a small army alone was just another way of committing suicide.
Before making up her mind, she wanted to know something.
“Who the hell are you?” she asked. She had a feeling she was talking to the man in fatigues.
That hunch was confirmed when he replied from the other side of the car, “General Jose Luis Garaldo. This town is now under my command.”
“What gives you that idea?”
A chuckle came from him. “The fact that my men have all the guns, señorita.”
And who was to blame for that, Alex asked herself bitterly?
One man … and his current address was 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.
“What is it you want, General?” Alex asked, still stalling for time. She wasn’t sure why she was doing that when she faced