J Saint - Collateral Damage

"Come!" Jack called the dogs, as he ran after Lauren. She'd opened the basement door and had headed down. He hoped like hell the Shepherd's would obey him. Even though dogs were less sensitive to the lachrymatory agent than humans, prolonged exposure to the highly concentrated chemical filling the house could seriously harm or kill them.

The dogs were still barking at the grenade, but thankfully Lauren called for them and by the time Jack reached the top of the basement stairs, the dogs were at his heels. He shut and locked the door behind them as they escaped the acrid fumes. A thick band of weather stripping surrounded the doorframe, sufficient enough to keep the gas from seeping through.

His eyes pouring, Jack sucked in deep breaths of dank air and bounded down to Lauren, his P226 at the ready. She leaned heavily against the wall, coughing and crying, in worse shape than he was.

"Hold up," he said as she reached the bottom stair. He didn't know yet if the bastard out front was operating alone or in tandem. He scouted the visible area though his watery eyes. Spying a bathroom, laundry, a rec room, no windows on this side of the finished basement and no immediate threat, he faced Lauren.

"My eyes are burning badly." Tears rolled from her baby blues, hitting him on a gut level. She looked shell-shocked, almost staggering as she blinked at him. The urge to pull her closer to him actually hurt to resist. It was damn lucky for both of them that they only were exposed to the dispersed edges of the gas.

"Stay here," he muttered. "Don't touch your face until you can wash off with soap and water; it will only make things worse. Don't touch the dogs, either. I'll be right back."

Moving silent and fast through the rest of the basement, Jack assured the area was clear, amazed at the luxury. He found a home theater and envious TV, a billiard and bar set up, a bedroom with bath, and in the middle part, a more casual living room than the one upstairs not to mention a full kitchen as well. The three stories had to be close to nine thousand square feet of living space. He'd lived in a whole lot less his entire life.

Shaking his head, he slid over to the wall of French doors lining the living room to peer outside. The terracotta courtyard was flanked on both sides by flowery gardens of low-lying plants. The open landscaping provided little room for cover close to the house. In fact, the only real hiding spot was around the large water fountain of three dolphins paying homage to a partially draped goddess rising from a sea wave. She held one arm out, with a bowl cupped in her upturned palm. Whether it was meant to be a birdbath or not, a blue jay was enjoying itself.

Who was the goddess that had been painted emerging from the sea? He'd seen that somewhere. Jack couldn't remember but he could kiss her and the sun right that moment. The nine o'clock shadow cast by the three o'clock position of the sun, didn't quite match the round bowl of the fountain's base. If he didn't miss his guess, the attacker was laying in wait for them behind the fountain. Jack retraced his steps.

Lauren hadn't done as he asked and waited on the basement stairs. She'd moved five feet to the bathroom and he found her fully clothed with both of the dogs in the walk-in shower doing her best to spray her face and the dogs at the same time. Besides the showerhead, it also had a hand-held sprayer. She had yet to see him, as her attention was focused of easing the effects of the tear gas.

Oh man. If he had betted that her curves and appeal couldn't hit him any harder than they had upstairs with her plastered against him then he'd be SOL. Water slicked, dripped and sluiced all over her. And damn, God help him or condemn him, but he couldn't help but notice her lacy bra nicely cupping at-full-attention nipples through her pink T-shirt. He took the three steps to the shower in one.

"He's out there and I'm going after him." Jack's voice, tight with tension, grated like glass.

Startled, she jerked to face him, her lush lips opening with a cry of surprise.

He moved before he could even think. Within half a second he had his pistol tucked behind him, his hand braced against the granite wall, and his face a breath away from hers beneath the water spray. Her eyes widened and a flicker of fear rippled across her features.

When had he become so unbridled? Impulsive? Had his brain taken hits from the blast that he had yet to realize? He turned his face to the full force of the water, flashed his eyes open twice, flushing away the tear gas and giving him the moment he needed to regain his sanity. After a second, he moved back and spoke again. "The gunman is hiding out back and I'm going to go around and see if I can get the drop on him. You stay locked in the bathroom. Don't open the door except for me or the police. They're coming right?"

She nodded.

He didn't stick around another minute. He turned on his heel and left, locking the door behind him. Shoving her image from his mind, he put his focus on keeping them both alive and un-captured. Leaving her locked up and alone wasn't an ideal solution, but he couldn't just sit tight with her inside. He could just see two rookie cops walking in to this situation and getting killed. Jack already knew what he was up against and had the experience to deal. So he'd take the gamble.

Jack slipped out a side window, eating grass as he belly-crawled along the garden's brick edging. Luck played in his favor as the garden was raised about six inches higher than the Bermuda. But the freaking red ant pile looming ahead was a hell of a problem. Where was a ghillie when you needed one?

Jack managed to make it. With his fingers and toes holding his weight and his body ramrod stiff, he cleared the top of the ant pile and its hoard of red defenders without triggering them to war. Human beings were supposed to be the evolved, superior form of life inhabiting the world, but more times than not, they weren't any different-and sometimes even less intelligent-than the small-brained creatures. That men were more savage than animals was already a given. Currently most of the world was running around like homicidal red ants gone amok.

He reached the end of the garden wall and could just barely make out a black-clad man crouched behind the fountain, still about twenty meters and thirty degrees away from being in a direct line with Jack. The man faced the house, angled away from Jack and nearly completely covered by the concrete fountain, making him a hard target. There had to be a way.

Grinning, Jack steadied his aim. The blue jay had moved on and Jack made good use of the birdbath. A well-placed bullet shattered the goddess's wrist and sent the birdbath crashing on top of the intruder. The man jerked back from the fountain and Jack squeezed off another shot. He didn't go for the kill, but wanted to bring the man down. Jack planned on being the one asking the questions.

He expected the man to cave with a bullet to the back of the knee. The attacker didn't, he staggered and grabbed his leg before disappearing behind the fountain. Two return shots hit to Jack's left and he cursed himself for not taking the time to circle around through the golf course in the distance and come up behind the bastard. Jack had been too afraid the man might get to Lauren while Jack played super spy. Keeping the shooter in his sight had seemed the better option, but with his position blown, practically zero cover, and the bastard still functional, Jack realized he'd played the wrong hand. They were now at a standoff unless heWTF? Jack caught the gleaming glint of something being thrown at the house. It bounced off the brick and clinked over the stone toward the patio furniture and the huge stone hearth and chimney of the outdoor fireplace. When smoke didn't immediately spew and the attacker took off running with a limp, Jack's heart hammered in dread. A grenade?