The FBI Thrillers Collection Books 6-10 - Catherine Coulter [505]
“Günter’s paying us a house call,” Savich said.
“This guy crazy or what?”
“Bet on it,” Savich said. “Hurry.”
“Half the city will be there in a minute. Keep everyone safe.”
Savich punched off his phone, and wrapped his arm around Fleurette’s head again. “Okay, now, everyone stay as close to the floor as possible. Slow and easy, elbow your way out of the living room to the staircase. The kitchen light doesn’t reach there. There aren’t any windows near the staircase. It’s the safest place in the house.” He lifted most his weight off Fleurette. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
But she didn’t sound okay. “I’m going to stay over you. Let’s shimmy on our elbows together now. I’m right with you. Sherlock, you okay with Sean? You need any help?”
“Nope, got him.” She nearly had to yell to be heard over Sean’s howls. “We’re okay. I’m dragging him beneath me. We’re right behind you.”
Ben said, “You guys stay down. Savich, Sherlock, you’ve got your guns. Callie, you sucking the floor?”
“I’m sucking,” she said from outside the living room. “It won’t need vacuuming for a week. I’m nearly to the staircase.”
Another shot rang out, this one shattering a lamp next to a big sofa. Then another, blasting obliquely through a side window, going wild.
Ben said. “Okay, everyone stay down. I’m going out to see if I can find Günter. See if he’d like to dance with me.”
“No!” Callie jumped to her feet and landed against him, knocking him back against the wall. She grabbed his shirt. “You’re not going anywhere. Are you crazy? We’re going to wait for help.” She actually pulled him tight against her, hanging on for dear life. “Do you want to get yourself killed?”
“For God’s sake, Callie, I’m a cop.” He grabbed her hands, trying to pull her off him, but she held on tight. “Stop trying to strangle me. Listen to me, it’s what I do for a living—serve and protect. Now get back down on the floor and crawl over to that staircase.”
Her fingers dug into his shirt. “If you want to be a damned hero, I’m coming with you.”
Sherlock gave Sean to her husband, and simply tackled Callie, took her down. Callie didn’t stand a chance, black belt in karate or no, and now she was helpless, couldn’t move. “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this to me,” she gasped, her face in the carpet. “You really shouldn’t be able to.”
“I learned from the best. Be quiet, Callie, and don’t move or I’ll hurt you. Ben, go, and be careful. As soon as I get Callie to listen to me, I’ll let her up. Dillon, you got Sean? Fleurette’s down?”
“Yeah, we’re fine. You keep Callie’s face in the floor.”
“Why did he try to kill me?” Fleurette whispered, coming up on her knees, clutching Savich, her breath hot against his neck, Sean trapped and crying between them. “I don’t know anything, but he fired into your house. To kill me. Why? I really don’t know anything that could harm him. Why would he come after me?”
“He obviously believes you do know something,” Sherlock said over Sean’s yells, “and it doesn’t look like he’s going to stop. Now, Callie, you got it together, or do you need to get more splinters in your face? Sean’s crying, in case you hadn’t noticed, and it really pisses me off that I’m not comforting him right now.”
“I’m okay,” Callie said, “or very nearly. I’m sorry. Ben’s already out the door, the idiot. I swear I won’t go after him. Go get Sean, Sherlock.”
“Fleurette and I have him,” Savich said. “Get yourself together, Callie. Don’t make me regret bringing you into this investigation.”
Callie drew a deep breath, hiccuped, and said, “I’m sorry, it’s just that Ben—”
“I know. But it’s his job. Let it go. Get yourself together.”
“Okay, okay, I’m trying but, he’s such a macho moron, saying he’s going to go out there and dance with that monster.”
“That particular macho moron is an excellent cop,” Sherlock said.
“That was just a touch of cop humor,” Savich said.
“He knows what he’s doing. Now, Callie, we’re going