Chapter 3
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Five loud pops from a handgun could be heard a short distance from the house.
Jane remarked, “That was no more than a few hundred yards. The Simpsons have that wide open gate. I hope that wasn't them. Either way, I'm calling in help. You and Mace should go over there to check. You can walk that in a couple minutes.”
Johnny replied, “Outside the wall?”
Jane gestured toward the garage. “Don't be a wuss. Go in and put on the vests. And I'm showing phone signal again, so call me with status when you get there. I don't want to be left wondering. And don't engage. Just watch for the cops.”
Johnny reluctantly smiled. “Mace? That sound like a good idea?”
Mace replied, “Might not be a bad idea to just wait here.”
Jane shook her head, “Will take the police at least fifteen minutes. You can at least scout out the situation before they arrive. I don't like the thought of the Simpsons being on their own over there. You're both skilled shooters, you'll have vests. Just go see that they're OK.”
Mace rubbed the goatee on his chin. “You don't think they'll take issue with us walking around with guns?”
Jane laughed. “The cops? No. Johnny knows half the force. You'll be fine.”
Johnny and Mace walked back into the garage and into the gun room. The bookshelf was again opened. Two bulletproof vests were handed out to Mace.
“Strap one of those on.”
Johnny followed with two pairs of night-vision goggles and the head straps to wear them. “This slide gives you a 3X zoom. Just make sure to slide it back if you have to move, or you'll be tripping over everything.”
With vests on, goggles mounted and flipped up, and spare magazines in small packs slung over their shoulders, the two started toward the front gate.
Johnny made a nervous statement. “Not so sure about this.”
“Relax. I've been here before. We're just scouting. If things look rough we just come back. Where'd you get the night-vision equipment?”
“The goggles are new last month, not yet on the market. Jane is a certified tester for the manufacturer, so she gets lots of toys to play with. She's very blunt in her reviews and most of the reps respect that. The reset on these is thirty hertz. You won't get white-out if we're hit with bright lights.”
Once outside the gate and into the darkness, Johnny donned the goggles. “On switch is to the right.”
Other than the low lights coming from the path surrounding the Tretcher estate, they were walking into a black void. After several seconds of fumbling, Mace powered the goggles on. The street around him lit up.
“Come on. Try to keep up.” Mace walked ahead.
“Right behind you.”
“Wow, these are much better than what we had in the service.”
Johnny glanced back to make sure the path behind them was clear. “You probably had Gen-2’s. As I said, these aren't available yet.”
After a short walk, Mace slowed and gestured for Johnny to move over by the brick wall that lined the outside of the Simpson estate. He peered around the corner of a pillar on the right side of the drive leading onto the property.
“I have one figure at the front door,” Mace said. “Come on.”
“Shouldn't we wait?”
Mace hurried through the open gate, sliding to the right behind a row of shrubs. Thirty seconds later, he stopped within twenty-five yards of the front door, crouching behind the shrub-line. Loud voices and glass breaking could be heard coming from the open front door of the large home.
Johnny slipped in behind his friend, whispering. “I better call Jane... great... no signal. She's gonna be pissed. We should go.”
“Not yet. And she'll have to live with it.”
He raised up slowly, looking just over the top of the hedge before dropping back quickly. “Guy at the door has night vision. He also has what looks like a 9mm in his right hand and another in his belt.”
A scream could be heard coming through the open front door. “No! Please leave him alone!”
Mace scowled. “I don't like this.”
Johnny quietly took a deep breath. “We need to get help. Greg and Martha... they wouldn't offer any resistance.”
A gunshot rang out from within the house.
Mace grabbed Johnny’s shoulder, quietly saying, “I'm going in. You can follow if you want.”
Mace began to move and then stopped. “You ever fire on a live person?”
“No. Where would I have done that?”
“Then you wait here. I swept houses for two tours over in the Middle East. Cover my back—and don't shoot unless you absolutely have to. Taking a life is not something you'll ever forget. Even if it is just some scumbag off the street.”
Mace moved down to an opening in the shrubs before peering around the edge at the figure guarding the door. It was a woman. He looked down at the ground, selecting a suitable rock to throw from the white stone that lined the shrubs.
A quick flip sent it over the guard's head and onto the roof. It clomped several times on the porcelain tiles before dropping off onto the grassy yard on the other side. The woman first looked up and then toward the sound in the yard with her weapon raised.
Mace shook his head as he thought, “Too easy”.
A quick, quiet sprint caught the woman looking the other way. A fist to the back of her head sent her sprawling. Her pistol, after leaving her hand, smacked the bricks of the front portico before sliding to a stop.
Johnny was quick behind with a nervous statement. “I didn't see any movement this way from the inside.”
Mace whispered, “Get her weapon. There's another in her waistband. Toss them in the shrubs along with her goggles, then help me prop her up on that bench. If they chase us out of here, that might just give us a second or two of distraction.”
Johnny did as Mace directed.
“Guess you really have done this before. Any other tricks in your black bag?”
“A few, but none that I care to talk about right now. And not something you ever want to have to do.”
Johnny patted Mace on the shoulder as they moved back to the front door. “Should I wait here?”
Mace stopped for only a moment. “Just watch my back. Make certain they're hostile before you pull that trigger. You can't bring those bullets back once you let 'em loose.”
“Understood. Lead the way.”
Mace closed his eyes for a quick prayer before removing the goggles. The Simpsons’ home had generators; several lights were on inside. He slowly moved through the front door into the darkened but grand foyer. Swirling mahogany staircases flowed up either side, rising sixteen feet to the second floor. He gestured for Johnny to wait at the base of the right staircase.
A formal parlor room was on the left and a study to the right. Two rooms above on the second floor showed lights. Mace continued to creep along the right wall of the foyer, passing the rail of the staircase going up.
Voices could be heard coming from the rooms further into the house. “Look. I know people like you keep cash. Just tell us where it is and we'll leave.”
Greg Simpson pleaded, “I've given you everything we have...”
“I know you have a safe! Where is it?”
“In my office, behind my desk. But there's nothing in there of value to you. Just papers. Life insurance, will... no cash.”
As Mace peered from the darkness of the foyer he could see a dark haired man with a frizzy black beard hoisting the elderly neighbor to his feet. Blood dripped from a swelling cut on the old man's forehead. Two men stood behind him with evil grins on their faces as a fourth stood in front of the gray-haired Martha.
The man in front of the terrified woman said, “How’d you and him get a place like this? No way you came out of the hood.”
The old woman shook in terror, unable to answer.
Mace crouched behind a short white marble pillar that held up a bright green fern as th
e aggressor and his two thugs took Greg Simpson to his safe, passing from Mace's right to his left down a wide hall. He had clear view of the foursome as they came to a stop in the elderly man's office.
The voice of the bearded man boomed. “Pop the safe or we cap the old lady!”
“OK.” Greg nodded. “Please, just a moment.”
After opening a panel in the bookshelf behind his desk, the safe was revealed. Greg worked the dial, his thin fingers trembling. Seconds later, a click was heard and the door to the safe opened.
The leader of the attackers looked inside before pushing Greg to the floor with an angry expression. “You lying old bag of bones.”
The bearded man pulled two jeweled watches from the safe.
Greg held up a hand, pleading. “I'm sorry. I forgot those were there. I never wear them.”
The angry and scowling attacker slowly raised his gun toward the cowering old man. “Davis! Pop a cap in that old bag! We got us a liar here!”
In an instant Mace was confronted with a dilemma: save the old man or save his wife. As he watched, he could see the expression on the bearded man's face change. He had seen it before—as an innocent Arab boy was killed for potentially revealing information about his neighborhood. At the time, Mace Hardy had been under orders to not fire as the execution went down.
It was a flash moment of evil that had since haunted his dreams. Here, he had no such orders. He took careful aim at the bearded assailant and pulled the trigger.
Zzzt. Zzzt. Zzzt.
The three men fell as three short bursts left the Israeli-made rifle.
Brrrfff.
Mace turned back in time to see the fourth man fall to the side of a blood-spattered Martha Simpson. Johnny was crouched several feet away with a hard look on his face.
A voice called down from the stairs above. “We have a jackpot of jewels up here!”
Johnny whispered for his neighbor to remain calm before he stood, frozen in thought of what to do. Mace turned back to the stairs leading up to the second floor. A man and a woman could be heard celebrating their haul.
Mace gestured toward the Simpsons. “Keep them quiet. I'm going up.”
Mace crept to the top of the stairs. A third figure was standing in the hallway with his back facing him.
The man looked into the room where others were pillaging the old couple's belongings. “Oh! Bring daddy some of that sugar!”
As a giddy girl stepped out of the bedroom door in front of her man in the hall, wearing a stash of the jewelry she had just acquired, her expression quickly changed. Mace was standing behind him in full view.
The butt of the Israeli rifle sent the man hard to the floor. The girl stepped back, pulling a pistol from her waistband.
Zzzt.
She fell silent.
Mace entered the room. Her fellow assailant was standing with gold chains dangling from his hands, holding them out to his sides. His grin quickly soured as he looked behind Mace Hardy at the body of his dead accomplice. The man dove to his left, stretching for the pistol he had left on top of an ornate dresser.
Zzzt. Zzzt.
The robber slumped to the floor behind a grand mahogany poster bed. The veteran Army Ranger stepped forward to check for a kill.
Brrrrrffff.
The man hit by the butt of Mace's rifle fell through the door onto a fluffy white rug that covered the dark marble floor. Blood began to seep from several holes in the center of his back.
Johnny stepped into the doorway behind him. “He had you dead.”
“Thanks. Go back and keep the Simpsons safe. I'll clear this floor.”
Johnny turned back toward the hall.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
The big man fell back into the room as four slugs from a .45 impacted his chest.
Brrrrrrrffff. Brrrrrrffff.
Mace heard the whump of two bodies falling on the stairway.
Jane called up, “Who's up there! Throw down your weapons and come out!”
Mace dropped to Johnny’s side and yelled back: “Just us in this room! You have the Simpsons?”
“We got 'em. Cops are on their way! Where's Johnny?”
“He's on the floor! Took two to the vest! Doesn't look all too happy at the moment! No penetration! I think he'll live!”
Jane sprinted up the steps and through the door, squatting by his side. “Big ape. Why didn't you call?”
Mace replied, “We lost signal.”
The Army Ranger stepped out into the hall as Jane knelt over her grimacing husband.
He pointed at the bodies in the room and the one in the hall. “Check these three. Should be dead, but never can be sure. I'll clear the rest of this floor.”
“Greg said there were at least ten. Three here, two on the stairs, four downstairs. That leaves at least one.”
Mace asked, “No one outside?”
Jane shook her head. “Not when Tres and I got here.”
“Take Johnny down and keep your eyes peeled. Turn the other lights in here off when you're leaving and wait down in the foyer.”
Jane nodded as she attempted to help a wincing Johnny to his feet. Mace moved down the hall, sweeping each of the fourteen upstairs rooms.
Jane called down the staircase. “Cowboy, were coming down!”
When Mace followed, Johnny was talking. “Thanks for cleaning up my mess.”
Jane smiled. “That's what I signed up for twenty-three years ago. Not gonna quit now.”
A wide-eyed Tres was crouched with the Simpsons behind the same white marble pillar Mace had used as cover.
Mace asked, “You gonna be OK?”
Tres half smiled as he noticeably shook. “Not quite the same as the movies. And you look so calm.”
Mace gestured toward his head. “I've done it a hundred times. I keep the fear locked away in here now. Just keep down and keep your eyes open. I'll be done with this floor in about thirty seconds. We can take the Simpsons back to Johnny's to wait for the cops.”
Johnny winced as he tried to laugh. “Make it quick. I gotta pee something fierce.”
After a quick sweep of the lower floor, they were on their way. The pops from additional gunfire could be heard in the far distance as they made their way back to the estate.
Tres said, “Didn't think Norfolk would be this bad a place. And you two. That was bad-ass back there.”
Jane frowned. “I'm shaking on the inside. Never done anything remotely like that before.”
“My brain is in a fog right now,” Johnny added. “My mind is racing from the adrenaline pumping. That and the bruised chest.”
Mace nodded. “You both did well. Better than my first few times out. I threw up after coming back from my first fight... once I had time to think about what had just transpired. Got a lot of support from my squad mates, but a lot of ribbing too.”
Minutes later, when they had settled into the den, Vanessa tended to the Simpsons. Jane looked over her husband as she helped him remove his vest.
Mace collected the guns. “I'll be back in a few. Gonna swap out the full auto on these for semi. The cops will be wanting the weapons we used and we aren't looking to get ourselves in trouble.”
Johnny pushed away Jane's probing hands as he grimaced with her every touch. “Go with him before you kill me. I'm fine.”
Jane frowned. “Hang on Mace, I'll give you a hand.”
Greg Simpson grabbed Mace by the arm as he passed the couch where he sat. “Thank you. They would have killed us.”
Mace patted his hand. “You're welcome, but you should thank your neighbors here. They're the heroes.”
Once in the garage, Jane unloaded the rifles, inspecting each before setting them on a bench. “Put the ARs over here when you're done. I'll take yours.”
As Mace broke down the rifles in his care, he glanced over at Jane. In seconds, the trigger mechanism of the Israeli-made rifle lay exposed.
“Where'd you learn that?”
Jane smiled. “Shooting
competitions often have side competitions for building up and breaking down the weapons being used. I finished first with this one in the four competitions I used it in. Just takes practice, something Johnny and I have a lot of.”
Mace smirked. “How'd he get so lucky to find you?”
“We went to the same college. He had a football scholarship and I was on the swim team.”
“A swimmer huh?” Mace stopped. “Wait, Johnny played college ball? Why hasn't he ever talked about it? He didn't wash out, did he?”
Jane shook her head as she broke down a second rifle. ”No. He was actually All-American in high school. As a freshman in college he was a starting linebacker. First game he busted through a block, sacked the quarterback and broke his leg. Bone was sticking out.”
“That had to hurt. He couldn't come back from that?”
Jane again shook her head. “Wasn't his leg that snapped. It was the quarterback's. He took it hard, deciding he didn't want to hurt anyone else just for sport. He dropped off the team mid-season. Jane paused and took a deep breath.”
“You OK?”
“Just trying not to think to hard on what just happened. I know we were in the right, protecting our neighbors and all. But still...”
Mace took in a deep breath. “Never gets easy, but you'll learn to live with it. He never said he went to college, or got a degree. Did he finish?”
“He aced every test before the accident, struggled some afterward. I think he lost his concentration. Has a degree in chemical engineering with a minor in astronomy. Went back for a Masters in astrophysics but lost interest and never finished.”
Mace chuckled. “That's heavy stuff. Doesn't seem the school type.”
Jane shrugged. “Our security system, the tablet that controls all the electronics in the house, he did that himself. When he sets his mind to doing something, he does a first rate job of it.”
“How'd the two of you actually meet?”
Jane stopped what she was doing. “He went out with one of my roommates. She actually hated him for all the things I liked. He was a gentleman, he was patient. She said, 'Responsible and boring, not my type.' He didn't actually have his money at the time. His aunt and uncle, the ones who owned this house, he was their favorite and only nephew. They left it all to him.”
Mace pulled the thin plate from the AR-15 that enabled the full-auto mode. “What happened to his aunt and uncle?”
“Mauled by a pride of lions in Southern Africa while on a deep-bush safari. Killed them both while they slept in their tent. The locals hired as guards had fallen asleep.
“He took it pretty hard. That den had two lion heads in it from prior hunts. First thing he did when they told him the house was his: he took them down and burned them in a bonfire out back. Even though he doesn't like the other mounts in there, he left them up in their honor. Just couldn't stomach the lions.”
Jane glanced back at the main house. “He pretty much grew up on this property. His dad was in the Navy and often out to sea. His mom worked most of the time and was happy to let him hang out with her brother and his wife.”
Mace prodded, “His uncle earn the money or it come from his aunt?”
“You sure are nosy aren't you?”
Mace laughed as he snapped the last piece of a rifle together. “Just like to know my friends, that's all. I already trust him with my life, and after tonight, I owe him for it. As nervous as he was, he saved Mrs. Simpson too.”
The rifle was checked over before being laid back on the table. “I switching these back is necessary, but why'd you give them to us that way in the first place? Semis would have done the trick.”
Jane smiled. “What good are toys if you can't share them sometimes? Besides, would you have ever thought we would actually have to use them? I didn't.”
Jane looked over the five rifles they had adjusted. “OK, think we have it. Let me lock these plates up. You take these and we'll go back in. Oh, and if you don't mind, please don't mention our talk here to Johnny. If he didn't tell you any of that, he might have his own reasons for it.”
Mace nodded. “Not a problem, I owe him. Besides, I have enough secrets of my own.”
Jane glanced back. “Not me. I'm an open book.”
Mace chuckled. “Like I said, Johnny's a lucky man.”
HADRON Dark Matter Page 4