The Second Mouse - Archer Mayor [107]
The group froze. Mel and Ellis continued forward, their M–16s becoming clear in the half-light. Surprisingly to Nancy, she noticed that they’d also donned black ski masks, adding a menacing aura to their sudden appearance.
“You can give it up or die. Real simple choice,” Mel said, lifting his rifle to the firing position and adding, “These are fully automatic weapons.”
The six men looked from one hooded gunman to the other in silence. Finally, one of them very slowly cleared a semiautomatic from his waistband, crouched slightly, and dropped it onto the ground.
“Everybody,” Mel ordered. “Now.”
The other five followed suit. As they did, Ellis faded back slightly, swung around, causing Nancy to duck out of sight, and shouted, “You two, keep coming with your hands up.”
The men from the parking lot, attracted by the sound of voices, were caught unawares as they approached between the buildings. Transfixed by the change of events, they followed orders, passing Nancy without notice.
Mel waited until all eight were herded together and had deposited their guns on the ground.
“Take five steps back and drop the packages,” he then ordered.
They complied as before, creating two piles of belongings.
“Take five more steps back, get down on your knees, cross your ankles, and put your hands behind your heads. Do it now, do it fast, or you will die.”
Nancy crouched, transfixed, incredulous that Mel’s plan was actually working. She watched as the group once more did as they were told.
Mel was now standing just ten feet in front of the eight kneeling men, his weapon still up and aimed.
“My partner,” he explained, “will now come up behind you, from the back row to the front, and tie your hands together. Do not struggle, do not say a word, and lie down on your face when he’s done. If you don’t, I will shoot you and he will go on to the next man.”
Ellis circled around behind them, slung his rifle over his shoulder, and extracted a bundle of white plastic zip ties from his pants pockets. One by one, he bound the men’s wrists together and pushed them facedown on the grass. The entire operation went without a hitch, ending with Ellis standing at the head of a group of eight prone people, all utterly still.
For a split second, as if stunned by his own success, Mel didn’t move, his rifle in place, now aimed vaguely at Ellis. They stood facing each other as if caught in a photograph.
And then everything changed.
The night vanished. With the flip of a switch, everything they could see, from the buildings to the runway, from the tethered planes to the dark spaces between the hangars—all of it became awash with blinding, painful, lightning-white light, supplied by over a dozen powerful roof-mounted halogen searchlights.
Simultaneously, a booming voice on a loudspeaker intoned, “This is the police. Do not move.”
But Mel did move. With a ballet dancer’s grace, he fired once into Ellis’s chest, threw his rifle far to the side, and took three fast steps backward just as the SWAT sniper fired a single round where he’d just been standing.
Before anyone else could react, Mel was kneeling with his own hands on his head, shouting, “Don’t shoot. I’m unarmed.”
As if magically, in the moment it took for all this to occur, he was surrounded by a circle of heavily armed, black-clad, helmeted police officers, all aiming their guns at him.
Ellis, for his part, was still slowly falling, a bright red string of blood working its way down the front of his ballistic vest.
Nancy, screaming, broke free from her hiding place and was instantly knocked down by a cop.
“Hey, Ellis,” Mel shouted, removing his ski mask while keeping his hands in sight. “Surprised?”
Ellis sat heavily on his heels. He was staring at his bloody hands, his rifle still dangling from his shoulder.
One officer seized Mel, pushed him hard to the ground, and pulled his hands up behind the small of his back.
Mel paid no attention. “You double-crossing fuck—takes one to know one, right?” he shouted at Ellis. “You think I didn’t know you were screwing my wife? You may