would arrive and bail us out. Please, God. Failing that, those who were trying to kill us were going to either storm the barn, or do something downright shitty like set it on fire, and force us to make a break for it. Worst-case scenario, believe me. None of us had any idea just how many bad guys there were, but I was pretty sure there would be enough of them to cover both exits.
I figured we were pretty obviously outnumbered. Tactical obstacle number three.
Then there was the matter of firepower. So far, everybody we’d been able to see shooting at us had what appeared to be an AK-47, or something in that general category. Large caliber, and they had been shooting full auto. The 7.62mm rounds they were firing could easily penetrate our Kevlar tactical vests, even the ones with ceramic plates in the center of the chest. We, on the other hand, had my AR-15, Sally’s shotgun, and four handguns. We were thoroughly outgunned, and except for my rifle, outranged as well. Tactical obstacle number four.
The only good thing was, so far, none of us was hurt in such a way that we couldn’t run. If we had to make a run for it, maybe one or two of us could actually traverse the hundred-yard lane and get to the road. Not that that would do much good unless backup was there, since our cars were parked at the Heinman boys’ farm about a mile up the road. So we had no place to go even if we did get out of the barn. Besides, I’d never been particularly fleet of foot, and at fifty-five years of age, six feet three inches, and 280 pounds, I was fairly certain that I’d not be able to make it up the lane at any great speed. I’d just be a large, slow-moving target. Tactical obstacle number five.
And I was sure I’d missed one or two others. No need to dwell on more than five.
It was pretty obvious that we were all running through those obstacles and concluding along the same lines. Morale was beginning to sink.
Sally spoke up. “Anybody want part of a Three Musketeers bar?”
Then it started to get dark. That meant that it was also only a matter of time before it got colder. I’d checked the forecast before we left, and they were expecting temperatures in the single digits. It was going to be a very long night.
Sally’s walkie-talkie crackled. I couldn’t quite make out what the message was, but she scooted over to me and held out the mike at the end of the pig-tailed cord.
“Forty is at the end of the lane,” she said. “He says he can see the barn, and thinks he can make it up here.”
Forty was Norm Vincent, the Battenberg chief.
“No way,” I said, and took the mike. “Forty, Three.”
“Yeah, go ahead, Three.”
“Don’t come up here. You won’t make it past the old foundation.”
“I can drive right up there. I don’t see anybody.”
“No, but they see you. Stay where you are, or go back a little further around the stop sign. They have AK-47s, I think.”
There was a silence. Then, “Three, Forty?”
“Go.”
“The, ah, ambulance is here now, too. We don’t think it looks too bad.”
“Stay there, Forty. Wait for more backup.”
“Stand by, Three. Just a sec,” said Norm. After a moment, he said, “We understand you have an injured officer?”
“Ten-four. Not life threatening,” I said, glancing at Hester. She gave me a thumbs up. “Stay put until we advise for you to come up.”
He acknowledged, but didn’t sound too convinced.
I handed the mike back to Sally, and walked sort of half bent over to the road side of the barn. Looking out through the cracks, I could not only see most of Norm’s blue patrol car, but I had a clear view of the top half of the Battenberg ambulance.
I gestured to Sally. “Tell ‘em to back up, will you? “I went past her and back to the side of the barn where all the bullet holes were. We had to keep an eye on what our suspects were doing.
The light from the setting sun was streaming through the barn board cracks and was making it difficult to see when I looked to the left of the shed. The sunlight was also illuminating every dust mote in the place, and was beginning to make it equally difficult to see within the barn itself. If there was ever a worst time for us to have them make a move, it was about now.
“Sally…”
“Yeah?”
“See if you can contact George. Our visibility here is going to be crap until the sun goes behind that hill. Maybe he can see better.”
The sunlight also meant that it was clear. Clear at night meant colder. Crap. This was probably the warmest part of the day in the barn, and I thought it was probably about twenty degrees. I could see my breath in the shafts of sunlight.
“Hang on,” said Sally. “Lamar’s here.” Again, she handed me the mike.
“You there, Three? “It was good to hear his voice.
“Ten-four, One. Alive and kickin’.”
“Is everybody all right?”
“Ah, negative. I 388 has been hit with a fragment.”
“Is it ten-thirty-three? Do we have to get in to you now?”
“Ah, negative, One. Negative.” I looked over at Hester. “How you feeling?”
I could just make out her answer. “No problem.”
I thought for a second. “We need to get her out, but not urgently. I don’t recommend anybody coming down the drive or across the yard. Not in daylight.”
“Ten-four,” said Lamar. “I got about a dozen state troopers ten-seventy-six. Should be here in less than ten minutes.”
That was reassuring. “Glad to hear it. TAC team?” I was hoping. The TAC unit would be equipped with M -16s.
“Negative, not yet. They’ve been notified.”
That was too bad. A standard issue state trooper would have a shotgun and a handgun. Shotguns, especially over several hundred yards of open ground, would be hopelessly outranged by the AK-47s our opponents seemed to have.
“Ah, ten-four. One, these guys have AKs. You ten-four on that?”
“Ten-four.” He was. Lamar wasn’t a ballistics expert, but he knew enough about 7.62mm rounds. He’d been hit just above the ankle with one fired by a barricaded suspect in 1996. He hadn’t been able to walk well since, and hadn’t had a single day without pain. He was lucky he still had a foot.
“Where you at, Three?”
Now there was the question. I felt the chances of the opposition listening in on our radio traffic were probably not too good. Nonetheless, I wasn’t certain I wanted to reveal our exact position. I looked up at Sally, at the other end of the mike cord.
“What do you
