John Miller - Side by Side

That was when the phone in Alexa’s pocket rang. After Winter took the phone to talk to Serge, he motioned for Alexa to take the others out.

Seconds later, when the twin shouldered the door in, Winter was kneeling just inside the den, using the common wall and the heavy stove for protective cover while aiming the shotgun at the kitchen door. He pointed at the giant’s head and squeezed the trigger.

Winter readied for a second shot. When he heard Peanut’s booming voice, Winter aimed at the wall just left of the door and pulled the trigger once, quickly moved the barrel farther to the left, and fired again. . and quickly again.

As soon as he had fired the last shotgun round, Winter dropped the weapon and ran for the bedroom. When the flash-bang went off, he was locking the bedroom door. Hastily he shoved a chair under the knob and, slamming the closet door behind him, scrambled down into the root cellar.

When the heavy footsteps from above echoed down into the cellar, Winter had joined the others, huddled like refuges, at the door leading outside.

Silently, with Alexa watching their backs, they followed Winter to the corner, then ran to Smoot’s Dodge. Winter checked for the keys, and got everybody in through the jump door behind the driver’s door, filling the rear seat. Lucy and her son sat in the middle between the Utzes. Alexa scrambled into the cab’s passenger seat. Without closing the door, Winter slid in, cranked the engine and throttled the Hemi. The truck roared like a wounded beast, as its tires spun in the wet grass and fishtailed.

“Get down!” he yelled. He’d said the same words to Click Smoot just before he was killed for not listening.

The pistol shots somebody fired at the escaping truck were no surprise, but the remaining twin, centered between Alexa’s sedan and the second Tahoe, was. The twin stood still and aimed his shotgun at the truck hurtling toward him.

Winter ducked.

The twin fired three quick shots before the truck punted him high into the air.

Winter sat up and spun the truck onto the gravel road. The shotgun had not just blown a hole the size of a saucer in the windshield, but had also hit the grille. Winter couldn’t smell the coolant that was probably streaming out of the radiator, but he knew he’d be lucky to make it a mile before the Hemi seized. If he was going to save his passengers, he’d have to move fast.

“Everybody okay?” he asked. “I’m going to get you down the road as far as I can. Ed, you know the layout of the woods, the roads?”

“Sure do.”

“There’s a roadblock up at Clark Road. I parked an SUV on the land just north of it on the access road about a hundred yards in-keys in the ignition. Ed, you’ll lead everybody there. I’ll hold them back as long as I can.”

“Winter, Antonia has six or seven of her people at the roadblock. You’ll never get through. She’ll have radioed ahead-they’ll be waiting.”

“I’m going to stop, and I want everybody out and in the woods and hidden when the Tahoe comes after me. Soon as it passes, you go fast as you can for the SUV. Just around the next curve. Get ready.”

Winter turned the bend-and found himself faced with something he hadn’t expected. The headlights of two vehicles in the road ahead blinked on, blinding him and forming a rolling roadblock coming straight at the Dodge, shoulder to shoulder.

“Alexa, as soon as I stop moving, move.”

Winter slammed the brakes. The truck slid sideways, blocking the road. The approaching vehicles stopped thirty feet short, their brights blasting the Dodge. He could see that the two vehicles were full of men. He knew he would never walk away from this one, but maybe if he could do enough damage, the others would have a chance.

“Run!” Winter hollered as he jumped out, aiming his SIG at the cars.

“Drop your weapon!” an amplified male voice ordered.

Winter turned his gun on the car on the left.

“No!” Alexa gripped his shoulder. “Massey, you’ve trusted me. Trust me again. Drop your gun right now, and put your hands up.”

Doors opened, but Winter’s vision was totally impaired by the headlights.

Without hesitation, he opened his hand and released his weapon.

Major Antonia Keen was on her phone to Clayton Able as she ran toward Randall’s SUV.

“Get them in here now, Clayton!” she shouted into the receiver. “Tell them to block the damn road. Tell them to use extreme prejudice. You got me?” She slammed the phone shut.

Randall drove. Serge was in the passenger seat; Antonia and one of Max’s men were in the second seat. The other man was on the Tahoe’s roof, lying on the luggage rack, aiming his MP5 at the road ahead.

“Your sister disappointed me, Major,” Serge said. “I’ll have to insist we deal with her. If she survives the next minute or so.”

“If she turned-and I do not believe it for a second-I’ll frigging shoot her myself,” Major Keen hissed. “If Massey didn’t kill her and leave her behind, he has her at gunpoint. Did you see her in the truck?”

“No,” Sarnov said. “I glimpsed some heads before they all ducked.”

“Let’s wait and see. I know her better than you do. Massey was in there when she went in and he knew she set him up. He killed her, I’m sure of it.”

“They escaped,” Serge said. “She didn’t yell, she didn’t fight.”

“She didn’t turn, damn it! If she’s in that truck, she’s playing along with him. She can manipulate him.”

“You can’t get between her and those men coming in,” Randall said. “That Dodge and anything inside it is toast.”

When Max made a curve, Serge saw men illuminated by bright headlights aiming automatic weapons and shotguns at the black truck.

Max slid the SUV to a stop, and everybody jumped out. The man on the roof stood up, his gun ready.

The men who’d been aiming at the truck turned toward the Tahoe.

A voice from the men surrounding the truck yelled out, “Put your guns down!”

“You idiot!” Major Keen hollered. “Hold your fire, soldier! I’m Major Keen!”

“So you say. I said put your weapons down! ”

“Okay, don’t freak out,” Max called. “We’ll comply.”

Serge shrugged. He set his gun gently on the hood of the SUV. Max and the man next to him put their weapons on the ground. After a moment, the man on the Tahoe’s roof squatted to place his gun on the roof by his feet. One of the men who had been firing at the Dodge stepped forward. He gathered up the weapons and stacked them in the road in front of the SUV.

The apparent team leader, a white-haired man in a black jumpsuit, came onto the road from the trees. His men kept their aimed shotguns at the people from the SUV.

“What’s the matter with you people?” Antonia snapped. “What is your name, soldier?”

Alexa Keen came around the Dodge, striding toward her sister.

“Antonia,” she said, “allow me to introduce to you Special FBI Agent in Charge Kelly Crisp. The others are members of the FBI’s Immediate Response Team. I’m placing all of you under arrest for kidnapping, murder, conspiracy to kidnap, conspiracy to commit murder, crossing state lines to commit those crimes, and. . well, I’ll make sure you get a comprehensive list of the charges at FBI HQ. Agent Crisp will read you your rights.”

Serge was being cuffed when he saw that one of the men who’d been firing at the Dodge was wearing a camouflage coat and had his face blackened. When the man caught Serge staring at him, he smiled. Massey!

Antonia Keen said nothing, standing stiffly, glaring at her sister.

Agent Crisp said, “If you’re wondering about the people who were at the roadblock, they’re all in custody. Clayton Able and his crew are being taken into custody about now.”