Harvey scooped the woman up from the pavement and dashed for the restaurant.

Grangeland, Ferris, and Henning crouched down, but they were out in the open.

Nathan dived for the cover behind the smoldering SUV as another shot cracked through the air. The bullet missed. It careened off the asphalt three inches from his head. Just above his elbow, warm liquid ran down the bare skin of his arm.

The entire SWAT team had hit the deck. “Dowdy, Collins,” he yelled, “did you see a muzzle flash?”

“Behind you, five o’clock, plus thirty.”

“Give me some cover fire.”

Bursts of MP5 fire hammered the air as Nathan scrambled up and dashed for the safety of the restaurant. A giant bullwhip cracked again as the third bullet whizzed by him. He sensed it miss his torso by less than an inch as he entered the building. The floor was littered with broken glass. Janey was screaming. The other server cringed behind the counter, shaking glass out of her hair. Harvey knelt near the rear wall tending to the injured mother and her little girls. Nathan looked back and saw Henning, Grangeland, and Ferris running in a full sprint for the door.

A fourth rifle report echoed across the pavement.

Twenty feet from safety, Henning tumbled.

Nathan ran back toward the door. “Henning’s down.” He slipped past Grangeland and Ferris as they rushed inside.

“Nathan, wait!” Harvey yelled. “I’ll get him.”

“No time.” Steeling himself for the bullet that would end his life, he raced across the asphalt, bent down, and hoisted Henning’s two hundred-pound body over his shoulder.

More bursts of MP5 fire echoed off the surrounding trucks and buildings.

A fifth shot tore the air.

This one found its mark. Shit! Nathan’s right calf jerked with the impact, but he kept his balance and made it back inside. Harv took Henning from Nathan’s shoulder and laid him against the rear wall with the other wounded. Grangeland had grabbed a first-aid kit from the convenience store and was about to apply a large bandage to the flesh wound on Nathan’s arm.

“Later,” he said.

“You’re bleeding bad.”

“There’s no time, we have to get Bridgestone.”

“You’ve got two gunshot wounds, you may not have time.”

“Ferris, can you handle Henning?”

“The bullet went through his vest, but it missed his lungs. He’s still in a bad way.”

The convenience store’s supervisor said, “I called nine-one-one. An ambulance is on the way.”

“Harv, Grangeland,” Nathan said. “Bridgestone’s on the roof of the building north of the property. We’ll use the rear exit and stay against the perimeter wall for cover. When we get to the driveway, Harv will retrieve the SUV. Ferris, let your SWAT teams know what we’re doing. Tell them to hold their fire until we’re in the SUV. We’ve got to hurry, let’s move.”