Chapter 6 - THE CAVALRY ARRIVES
-6-
The phone in my pocket rang once, twice, and then connected. I didn't speak into the microphone; I simply left the line open, keeping the phone clutched tightly in my hand while my thumb pressed down on the speaker grill, broadcasting the chaotic sound of shouting voices and idling engines directly to my sister forty miles away in Edmond.
"Drop the weapons or we open fire!" the lead tactical operative screamed, taking two aggressive steps forward, the laser sights of their submachine guns painting red dots across Sterling’s chest.
Sterling slowly raised his hands, the titanium laptop case slipping from his fingers and hitting the concrete floor with a heavy clatter. "Don't shoot! The case is right there! Just take it and let us go!"
"We don't leave loose ends, Mr. Sterling," the operative sneered, his finger tightening on the trigger guard. "Mayor Arthur sends his regards."
I braced myself, my legs coiling to spring forward, calculating the exact distance between myself and the lead gunman. Even if I took him down, the other two would cut me to ribbons before I could take three steps.
Then, from the far end of the subterranean parking garage, a sound shattered the tense silence—a sound that did not belong in a corporate parking structure.
The earth-shattering roar of a modified Ford F-250 diesel engine screaming at maximum RPMs, accompanied by the deep, aggressive howl of dual exhaust pipes.
The operatives whipped their heads around toward the entrance ramp.
Before they could react, a massive, midnight-blue heavy-duty pickup truck came barreling down the concrete ramp at sixty miles an hour, completely ignoring the sharp turn and plowing straight through the parking garage’s reinforced security gate with a deafening explosion of splintered wood and twisted steel.
CRASH!
The truck didn't slow down. It skidded across the wet concrete in a massive, controlled drift, its high beams blinding the operatives and sending them scrambling out of the way to avoid being crushed beneath its massive front tires.
The truck slammed to a halt sideways, completely pinning the tactical Ford Expedition against a concrete pillar and blocking the exit ramp.
The driver's side door flew open, and my sister Sarah stepped out onto the running board.
She wasn't wearing a dress or a winter coat. She wore a heavy canvas ranch jacket, her hair tied back in a messy ponytail, and in her hands, she held a twelve-gauge Remington pump-action shotgun, leveling it straight at the lead operative’s chest with the calm, terrifying precision of someone who had spent her entire life hunting wild boars on our family's ranch.
"Well, well, well," Sarah called out, her voice ringing off the concrete walls with icy authority. "Looks like you boys picked the wrong parking garage to play dress-up in."
The operatives stared at her in utter bewilderment. One of them tried to pivot his submachine gun toward her, but before he could raise the barrel, Sarah pumped the shotgun with a sharp, metallic clack-clack.
"I wouldn't twitch if I were you, sparky," Sarah warned, her eyes narrowing. "My aim is a lot better than yours, and buckshot leaves a terrible mess to clean up."
"Sarah!" I shouted, lowering my knife as I sprinted over to the side of the truck. "What the hell took you so long?"
"Traffic on I-35 was a nightmare, Grant," Sarah replied smoothly, never taking her eyes off the paralyzed gunmen. "And I had to stop by the farm to pick up my favorite toy. You know how it is."
Sterling scrambled off the ground, scooped up the titanium laptop case, and dived into the back seat of his sedan, his face pale and slick with sweat. "Get in! Get in right now before reinforcements arrive!"
I didn't need to be told twice. I vaulted into the passenger seat of the sedan, while Sarah kept her shotgun trained on the operatives, slowly backing toward the truck’s driver-side door.
"You're making a massive mistake!" the lead operative yelled, his voice cracking with panic as he realized their tactical advantage had completely evaporated. "Arthur Sterling will hunt every single one of you down!"
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"Tell Artie I said hi," Sarah smiled sweetly.
She vaulted back into the cab of her truck, slammed the door, threw it into reverse, and tore out of the parking garage through a secondary maintenance exit, leaving the armed mercenaries trapped behind a wall of crushed steel and shattered glass.
