You know what to do, man.
Anderson nodded. Yeah.
He addressed the whole group. Look. There are women and children in there. Job One is to bring the subject out, but Job One-A is to do it with no loss of life. Non-lethal force is the motto for today. That said, dont anybody let yourself die in there. If they want a fight, you give them one. Understood?
Everyone understood.
Ed spoke into his mic. Marshall, King, where are you?
A voice came through his speakers. Were in the neighbors yard, just on the other side of the wooden fence. Waiting for go. Marshall was former FBI. King had come from a SWAT team in Newark, New Jersey.
You guys heard all that? You on my page?
We got you, Ed. Nobody dies today. Not them, but especially not us.
Ed nodded. Good. He took one deep breath. He tried to let whatever tension was in his body release into the universe.
All right. In and out in ninety seconds, kids. Lets hit it.
* * *Here they go.
A dozen video screens were mounted on the wall in Swanns office. Six of them were currently active, each showing the view from the body camera on each of the SRT agents about to hit Mustafa Boudiafs house.
Office was a generous term for Swanns strange kingdom. There were four desks, each with at least three video monitors on top. Three tall computer server racks were bolted to the wall across from the video screens. Wires snaked all over the floor. Everywhere on the desks, on the floor were pieces of electronic equipment, with LED lights blinking in red and green and white.
There was one long window; the shelf below it seemed to have a force of magnetism that drew empty Coca-Cola and Red Bull cans to itself.
Swann sat in a chair in front of the video screens, Luke and Trudy standing perfectly still behind him. The screens showed a bizarre jumble of imagery, each screen marked with the last name of the person whose point of view was showing.
The screens marked NEWSAM and RODRIGUEZ both showed a snowy walkway, and a red door at the top of some steps. ANDERSON showed an alleyway, a house to the right and bushes to the left. ANDERSON was moving fast. STAMOS showed the same view, except with a tall man in a yellow safety vest running just ahead, slipping and sliding just a bit in the snow. MARSHALL and KING showed a tall wooden fence, then the POVs went right over the top of it. Now there was a tan house with a wide back porch covered in snow.
Agents converging, Swann said. Anytime youre ready, Ed.
The camera marked NEWSAM was right in front of the red door. A hand reached out and its index finger pressed the doorbell.
Ding-dong!
The camera marked STAMOS showed a thin black man, also in a yellow reflective vest, and with his visor in place now, standing with his fist in the air. Then the camera turned to a back door.
Luke held his breath. They were about to take that door down with a battering ram. Then they were going to throw a stun grenade in, a so-called flash-bang. Both of these things would make loud noises. Luke didnt love loud noises. The flash-bang would make one hell of a loud noise.
Just then, he got a text on his phone. It vibrated in his hand; he had set it to silent mode. He glanced down. It was Gunner.
Hi Dad. Where r u?
Spell out your words! he said in his mind. The simplified Orwellian language kids used in texts drove him crazy. Still, he let it drop.
He texted back. At work. Where are you?
Snow day 2day. Wanna get lunch?
Luke smiled. Did he want to get lunch with Gunner? Of course he did.
Back porch, go! Swann said, nearly shouting. Go! Go! Go!
On the screen marked KING, two men reared back and swung the battering ram.
* * *Help you? the man who answered the front door said.
He was a young guy in a blue T-shirt and red track pants, flip-flops on his bare feet. His brown eyes were flat and more than a little annoyed. His hair stood up in tufts. He had a full beard.
Yes, hello, Ed said. He indicated the clipboard in his left hand, and tiny Rodriguez standing to his right. Were from the electric utility. Weve been getting reports of power outages from the storm in this neighborhood. We need to come in and check your smart meter to see if your system is working properly.
The guy made a sort of grimace. What? Why would you have to
Suddenly, there was a loud noise somewhere deep in the house.
BAM!
The guy turned halfway around. It sounded like something in the kitchen had
Ed punched him in the side of the head. He didnt rear back he just uncorked it from halfway. It wasnt hard enough. The guys eyes were dazed, but he was still conscious and on his feet. Ed stepped in, slid a foot behind the guys legs, and shoved him onto the floor.
Rodriguez! he shouted and ran past the guy. Somewhere, in his peripheral vision, through the eyes in the back of his head, he saw Rodriguez jump on the guy, already turning him onto his face and zip-tying his hands, almost in one movement.
Ed walked down the hallway, moving fast. His Glock had appeared in his hands.
Flash-bang coming! someone shouted inside his helmet. Flash-bang coming.
He stopped, shut his eyes, and ducked back.
Even behind closed eyes, he could see the flash. Even with his ears protected by sound cancellers, he could hear and feel the explosion.
BOOOM!
Somewhere down the hallway, a child started crying. A young woman appeared, carrying a baby in her arms. She ran past Ed, her face frozen in terror.
Up ahead, four large men suddenly swarmed into the house, shrieking, Down! Down! Get DOWN!
The stairs to the upper floor were to Eds left. He bounded up them, two at a time. If the floor plans were correct, the master bedroom was to the right. He turned that way at the top of the stairs. He could feel, rather than see, another man right behind him. There was a door straight ahead.
He ran at that door full speed. Surprise was everything today. Speed was everything. He hit the door without slowing down, giving it his right shoulder, blasting through it. It was a cheap wooden door it looked nice, but there was nothing to it.
Ed came crashing into the room head first, rolling to the ground. A bald man in a sleeveless T-shirt and boxer shorts was crouched on the ground in front of him, pawing through a box.
He turned. He held a small revolver in his hand an old .38 special.
A shadow flew over Ed, reached the old man, and knocked his gun sideways just as he fired it.
BANG!
Then the old man was on his back, the shadow now resolved into a man a man with a yellow reflecting vest on. The SRT man it was Anderson, the former Delta operator put a forearm across the old mans throat. The .38 caliber slid away across the floor.
I think this is the subject, Anderson said over his shoulder.
Ed stood. All clear? Ed said into his microphone. Give me your all clears.
All clear.
All clear.
All clear.
Anybody hurt? Anybody down?
Weve got two young guys trussed up downstairs, a voice said behind him. Ed turned and it was King. Theyre down, but not hurt. Rodriguez corralled the women and kids and has them in the living room.
Ed glanced at the bed. It was an old rickety cot. The blankets were kicked all over the place. A pair of eye shades was on the floor. The old man had probably been asleep just a minute ago.