Luckily, there were some alleys and back paths they could stick to. The kid took point and led them up and over a block to the rear of the suspect’s home. All they had to do was cross over a fence and they would be staring at the target house’s back door.

“Drop in the Throwbot,” Nic said. “I’ll set up over by the dumpster.”

The Throwbot XT was a tactical micro robot that looked like a toilet paper roll with a flywheel attached to each end. Nic would be able to steer the robot and see video and audio using a control unit the size of a handheld radio. Weighing just one pound, the Throwbot could be thrown up to 120 feet, and it moved with virtually no sound.

Stromberg hopped the fence and headed for one of the rear windows of the target residence. Nic followed after the big Viking but squatted down at an opposite corner of the house beside a large dumpster. Nic considered the time: 10:11. The garbage man would have already made his appearance, and it was unlikely for anyone to be taking their trash outside right at that moment, but Nic lived by Murphy’s Law … whatever could happen, would.

He could barely see Strom as the big, blond operator cut out a small section of glass from one of the bedroom windows and, after checking for hostiles with a snake cam, tossed in the tiny remote-controlled robot.

The house was built from tan stucco with a brown adobe tile roof. It was long and narrow with a garage jammed onto the front.

Squatting beside the dumpster, Nic readied the control unit and waited for the robot to be in place. Within a few seconds, he had an audio and video feed coming from inside the house. The bedroom was dark, so he switched to the Throwbot’s thermal camera.

He steered the tiny machine around the bedroom’s corner and down a hallway where he could see a small kitchen and dining room combination. And there, standing in the dining room to the side of the rear sliding glass door, was their shooter. He held a twelve-gauge shotgun at the ready.

Nic panned the Throwbot to the right. From there, he could see the sliding glass door, a curtain blocking the view from the outside.

The only problem was that a nearby streetlight illuminated the backyard in such a way that anyone standing in front of the curtain on the outside would cast an obvious silhouette.

And apparently Stromberg was walking directly in front of the sliding glass door. Even on the small grainy image displayed on the control unit, Nic could see Strom’s outline clear as day.

Nic panned back to the shooter, who was raising the shotgun.

Dropping the remote, he took off in a sprint.

Stromberg looked up in confusion, but Nic was already on top of him.

He didn’t bother to try anything fancy. He only had time to realize that he needed to get Strom out of the line of fire. He hit the big man full speed and barreled him over.