Baker turned and saw Kenny pointing toward the house. He followed his nephew’s point and saw two silhouettes through the open Venetian blinds. A second later the blinds closed again.

“They know we’re here. Where’s my Tec?”

Kenny pulled one of the Tec-9’s from inside the van and tossed it his way. Baker caught it one-handed. He checked the clip, then worked the slide. He loved these little beauties. They emptied their thirty-two-round clips in an eye blink.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“Wait,” said a voice behind him. “I am coming with you.”

Oh, shit. What a time for Ahab the Ay-rab to get some guts.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea. There may be some shooting.”

“That is what I fear. The woman must not be hurt.”

“Don’t worry. We won’t—”

“I am coming. Lead on.”

Baker looked at him and thought, If you weren’t paying me, you lousy twerp, I’d shove this barrel right up your nose and give you a 9mm headache.

He smiled. “Okay. Your call. But don’t blame me if you get hurt.”

15.

15.

“Why’d you open them?” Alicia said as Jack pulled the string to close the blind.

“Wanted to make sure they know we’re here.” He stepped back from the window and shook his head. “They’re carrying assault pistols. Looks like they mean to do some serious harm.”

Alicia’s intestines writhed into a painful knot. Men with guns… looking for her… how did she ever come to this?

“You mean they’re going to kill us?” Alicia said.

“That’s about the only thing Tec-9’s are good for,” Jack said. “Close-range annihilation.” He gave her a quick smile. “But not you. Killing you is the last thing they want to do.”

Alicia noticed that he’d left the obvious unsaid: Killing Jack would be the first thing on their list.

Will Matthews, where are you when I need you?

“Call the police,” she said, suddenly frantic. She didn’t want Jack to join the other three men she’d involved in this. “Maybe if they know the police are coming—”

“That guy who climbed the pole fixed that. And even if he hadn’t, the cops couldn’t get here in time. And even if they could, we wouldn’t call them.”

He strode across the living room into the small connecting dining room. Alicia followed.

“Look, Jack. I know you have a thing about the police, but there are a dozen armed men—”

“Eight,” he said as he knelt by a dusty, scratched sideboard and pulled it away from the wall. “And one of them isn’t armed—or at least isn’t showing it.”

On the wall behind the sideboard was what appeared to be a security system keypad. Jack began punching in a code.