Court blinked in shock a couple of times. The noise and the violence were almost impossible to take in all at once, but quickly he recovered, leaned down to the floorboard, and scooped up his Glock 43.
Looking at Catherine next to him, he saw that she was unhurt but in an obvious and understandable state of shock herself.
Zack, on the other hand, had already flung his door open. He climbed out, held his Staccato up, and aimed it at the Nissan Armada, which was now nearly fifty feet away. He moved forward without waiting for Court to support him.
Court fell out of the tow truck onto the street because the passenger-side door had been ripped off and flung somewhere else. He climbed to his feet, raised his own little pistol, and began moving forward towards the crashed-out BMW.
As Zack came up on the Armada, he fired several rounds, presumably at someone in the front seat, but Court had to get around the crashed 3 Series, which had come to rest with its grille right in the driver’s-side door of the Armada.
Court cleared around the side of the black sedan; the airbags had deployed so it was hard to see who was behind the wheel, but soon a figure began climbing over into the passenger seat, pushing the still-inflated airbag out of the way.
He saw a pistol in the man’s right hand.
“Toss the fucking gun!” Court shouted.
The man coughed several times; obviously he’d breathed in the smoke filling the cabin of the BMW, but he did eventually comply, tossing an H&K compact pistol out onto the street.
Court kept his pistol up on the man, even after Zack shouted, “Clear!” on his side, because he didn’t know who he was looking at in the smoke-filled BMW.
But then the man climbed all the way out and stood up, and Court lowered his weapon.
The sound of police sirens added to the car alarms and the persistent ringing in his ears as Court holstered his gun, staring at the man who’d climbed out of the 3 Series.
“Holy fuck, dude. You okay?” Court asked, his voice making it obvious that he was having a hard time processing all that had just transpired.
Jim Pace, CIA operations officer and former paramilitary Ground Branch operator, wore a suit and tie; his white shirt was torn and smudged with grease. His eyeglasses were bent comically, his hair a mess.
He did not acknowledge Court at first; he just looked past him.
Court followed Pace’s eyes and realized he was checking out the body of the Jordanian hit man lying facedown on the sidewalk. Snare’s legs were twisted around each other, almost like a pretzel; one arm was dislocated up over his head, and his head hung at a seventy-degree angle from his neck.
After another cough, Jim finally looked back to Court. “You…want to put an insurance round into him?”
Court, still bewildered, shook his head. “I’ll save the bullet for someone who needs it.”
“Roger that,” Pace said.
Zack Hightower came around from behind the Armada now, lowered his gun when he saw Pace, and slapped the man on the back. The three of them all just stood there, disoriented for a few seconds, and then Zack put his hand to his ear. Court saw that Zack’s AirPod was still in place, but only barely. “Repeat your last, Gumdrop?”
An instant later Zack’s eyes focused. “Cops are on Wisconsin, approaching on foot. A lot of patrol cars are converging, two minutes out.”
Pace said, “I can’t be here.”
To this, Court replied, “And wecan?”
Pace scooped up his weapon, and the three men met up with Catherine as she climbed out of the tow truck. She retrieved her handbag, and then Court pulled out his empty Scorpion, collapsed the stock, and slung it over his neck.
Following a suggestion from Zack, the four of them separated so they couldn’t be picked up on cameras moving together, but they all headed west on foot for a block, then turned to the north.
—
Matthew Hanley himself picked them all up five minutes later in front of the Volta Park Recreation Center. They climbed into Hanley’s rented minivan, and everyone remained silent as the vehicle rolled off to the north.
Eventually, however, Hanley spoke into the car’s speakers. “Gumdrop. You with us?”
“I’ve got you on Wisconsin. Keep heading north and you’ll miss all the first responders converging in Georgetown. I see no more Gauntlet assets near you. I’m bringing the UAV back, so I can only see you on traffic cams.”
“Roger that.” Now Hanley turned to Pace. “Nice going back there.”
