CHAPTER 56 – ASSAULT
Masked men kept coming out of the garage. They were dressed in black, head to toe. They split into clusters. The clusters aimed in different directions. Emma counted nine men, so her mind said "Nine, at least."
Three of them set up against her.
Her training took over.
She went after the biggest and strongest first, staggering him with a blow with her cane, grabbing his head, and giving a deadly jerk.
One down.
Emma stepped away from the other two men, knowing that sometimes (rarely, but sometimes) men quit a fight when given a chance. No go.
She clicked a small button on her cane, and pulled her sword out of its cane-sheath with cool emphasis.
That finished one man's resolve. He turned and ran, right into an undercover cop who had sprinted over from Loomis's.
"It might be a diversion, set up for your sake," Emma said, to the cop.
"Who cares?" he grunted, between slugs to his fellow. "We've removed all the stuff they might be after. We're just (whack) sitting around (whack) waiting for bad guys to show up (whump)." His man fell, unconscious.
Two down.
The cop turned to the third man, held at bay by Emma's sword. "Come, chump. Let me put handcuffs on you, before anyone gets hurt," he said.
In answer, the man pulled a gun. Emma pulled her gun. To save ammo, she only shot him once in the chest and once in the head.
Three down.
"My name's Nino," the cop said as he kicked knives and guns away from fallen invaders. "Bruling will watch our backs." He waved at a man in the side yard of Deerfield Cottage, reporting on the phone and scanning for trouble that might be in reserve.
Bruling swung over the fence with the agility of an acrobat, still holding the phone to his ear, and headed their direction.
"Reflexes of a cat, eyes of a hawk, ears of a dog, but the uppercut of a twelve-year-old girl," Nino said. "Poor man's always in the second wave."
Emma and Nino headed to the melee at the wiener roast, leaving it to Bruling to handcuff the man who had been knocked out by Nino.
The men in black were surprised to see Emma, and even more surprised that she had backup. One of them barked an order. All six stopped what they were doing and pointed a gun at someone. That froze proceedings.
Lancelot took exception to someone pointing a gun at Louisa Barrajas. He rammed a marshmallow fork into the man.
The man tried to get a bead on Lance, but was flattened by an enraged footballer. There was a sound of bones snapping as they landed. Barrajas knocked the man unconscious.
Four down.
Inspired, the three older boys tried to tackle masked men.
Vincent saw that Barrajas was hurt and sidled over to him, frightened but loyal. Barrajas grabbed the little boy and lay on top of him, shielding him with his own broken body.
Louisa, furious that her half-healed husband had been forced to break bones, went after the intruder nearest her. He made the mistake of grabbing her by the hair. Like enraged bulls, Mauger, Conan, Lancelot, and Hippo hit the fellow at about the same time. It was at least one person too many for the available space, but they got the job done.
Five down.
That left four invaders standing.
One of them opened fire and was downed by fire from Emma.
That left three.
One of them grabbed Conan by the neck, holding him as a hostage. That stopped proceedings for a while.
Another lunged at Janice. Dennis exploded. He tackled the man, wrested the gun away, and shot the fellow point blank.
That left two.
The one holding Conan held his ground, but the other went mad and attacked Dennis, who was staring in shock at the dead man in his hands.
Janice grabbed a gun off the ground. She screamed as she shot, and she screamed after she shot, but she hit her target dead on.
That left one.
The terrified and confused crook held Conan even more closely.
"Info for freedom," Emma said. "Tell us who sent you."
"I don't dare," the man whimpered. He looked surprised. He collapsed, bloody on his back.
Castelneau strutted from behind cattle that had been standing around dumbly watching the confusion. He waved his gun, which was equipped with a silencer. "I would like all of you to know that I will see that you are all dead. I, myself, Florentin Castelneau," he announced grandly. He slipped in manure and went down. Nino had him pinned and cuffed in no time.
Conan and Lancelot whooped and danced until Barrajas caught their eye and shook his head to say no, this was no time for dancing.
Conan looked around for Mauger. Louisa stepped up to him. She pointed him toward the house. "Mr. Westmoreland carried Mauger in there," she said. "I'll go with you if you like."
Conan shoved her back, not meaning to shove her, not really, but needing to shove something. He ran to the door and stopped, leaning on the door, afraid to open it.
Louisa put her hand on Lancelot's shoulder. "Let me go see how things stand," she said. "You help my husband with Vincent."
Lancelot obeyed, going over to Barrajas while Louisa went across and scooped Conan inside with her.
"You're all right, aren't you?" Lancelot asked.
"Sure, just a broken leg, I think," Barrajas answered, hoping he didn't look as sick as he felt.
"Do you break your legs a lot?"
"Lately, I seem to," he admitted.
"Hey, Vincent. You're all right, aren't you?" Lancelot asked.
Vincent didn't answer him.
Barrajas sat Vincent upright, and jostled his hair. "Sure he's all right," he said to Lancelot. "I knocked all the wind out of him, and he's beat up some, but he's all right."
Vincent responded to this show of assuredness by crumpling into tears.
"Here, now, buddy, that's all right. Go ahead and cry. This is that sort of situation," Barrajas said gently, pulling the boy's face against his chest, away from the unspeakable scene around them.
Barrajas took a careful look around, reassuring himself that the danger was indeed over. Some of the bad guys were moving again, but it looked like they were well shackled, one way or another. Others were lying still, likely never to stir again. Dennis and Janice had been left in charge of calming each other, while Emma and an undercover cop from Deerfield Cottage searched the property for hidden danger. Stolemaker was clutching his left arm where he'd caught a bullet. A second undercover cop was attending to Stolemaker, while keeping one eye cocked on Castelneau. A police siren was wailing, coming closer. Barrajas fancied he heard an ambulance siren also. All in all, the storm wasn't over but the shutters were properly battened, as his grandfather liked to say.
Lancelot tugged at his sleeve to get his attention. "I'm sorry I danced, if Mauger's hurt," the boy said.
"That's all right," Barrajas said.
Lancelot shook his head. He knew it wasn't all right, and didn't want anybody telling him any different.
Barrajas took the opening. "It's not just Mauger," he said. He faltered. French wasn't his native tongue, and it was hard to think how to say what he wanted. "It's bad sportsmanship to rejoice when someone on the other side goes down," he said, gently. It wasn't quite how he wanted to say it, and it fell short of what he wanted to teach, and there was a world of difference between a worthy competitor on a sports field and killers for hire who would gang up on women and children and unarmed men, but for now it would have to do, he figured.
Lancelot received this instruction very solemnly. Too solemnly, Barrajas thought. He made a show of fighting down a chuckle. He leaned closer to Lancelot. "It was pretty funny, though. That guy slipping in cow poop. I'm presuming that's what happened. You were closer. Did you see?"
Lancelot grinned.
"And, really, I know that's what you were really celebrating and laughing about. I might have jumped up and down a time or two myself if I'd been able. Before I caught myself, I mean to say. I mean, it was too perfect, no
?"
Lancelot agreed, wholeheartedly.
Vincent almost smiled.
Not Exactly Allies Page 57