Page 51 of Yankee in the Wind

Jack eased the door open and listened for sounds from inside, then peeked into the interior. The loading dock area was dimly lit and quiet. Jack squeezed inside. He found himself in an area with pallets and packing materials, empty crates and boxes. A curtain of thick plastic sheets, which were common in refrigerated spaces like those of a meat-packing plant, separated the area from the rest of the building. It dulled the voices and sounds coming from the main part of the building.

Jack parted the plastic sheets by an inch and peered into the space. It didn’t take him long to assess what they were dealing with. He slid the plastic shut again and retreated a few yards, before he dared whisper into his mic.

“Loading dock is clear. The machine is in the southeast quadrant. Don’t have a clear view. There are pallets stacked in the northwest quadrant, partially blocking my view.”

“I’ve got a direct view,” Fox confirmed. “Tiger is already in the machine.”

“I hear the sound. The machine is running,” Ace added. “Fox, how many men do you see?”

“Three close to the machine. Two are wearing white coats, one of them is injecting something in Tiger’s IV drip. A third guy is wearing blue overalls.”

“I see the one in the blue overalls,” Ace said. “Yankee?”

Jack peeked into the room once more. “Negative, can’t see any of them from my vantage point.” Then he picked up a movement in the corner of his eye and whipped his head. “Two people approaching from the northeast quadrant. One in a suit. The other dressed in black. He’s armed.”

The armed man moved his head in Jack’s direction, and Jack quickly jerked back behind the thick plastic curtain.

“The suit and the armed guy are in my view,” Ace said a moment later.

“There’s another armed guy, he’s coming from another door,” Fox said. “Perhaps a bathroom.”

“Where’s he going?” Jack asked.

“Heading in your direction, Yankee.”

Jack stepped to the side to press himself against the wall next to the plastic curtain, his gun ready, when he heard Michelle’s voice in his ear.

“Somebody is heading for the loading dock.”

Jack couldn’t answer to ask for more details, because the armed man just parted the plastic curtain to the area where Jack was waiting. He didn’t step through, instead, he looked toward the double doors.

“Can anybody hear me?” Michelle asked.

Ace and Fox didn’t answer either, which could only mean that they too were too close to Smith’s henchmen and had to remain silent.

Jack shifted his weight from one foot to the other to turn his torso, so he could aim at the armed man and take him out. Debris under his foot made a sound. It wasn’t loud, but sufficient for the guard to turn his head and reach for his gun.

“Security breach!” the guy yelled.

Jack spun to aim his gun in his direction, trying not to offer the guy too broad a target. Jack shot, but the guy did too, and his opponent’s gunshot echoed in the small space. Jack felt the bullet graze his arm but didn’t feel any pain. Blood spurted from the guard’s biceps, but he was still standing.

Jack fired a second shot, before the assailant couldn’t aim with his injured arm. The second bullet hit him squarely in the chest. From the corner of his eye, Jack saw a movement coming from the double doors. Too late he turned. The man Michelle had warned him about had already reached him and tackled him to the ground, knocking the wind out of him.

Jack heard shouting from inside the facility where the MRI machine was located. He had to assume that everybody had heard the guard’s gunshot, and that Ace and Fox did their best to stop more of them coming toward the loading dock.

Jack punched his attacker and noticed only now that he’d lost his gun during the fall. Luckily, the other guy didn’t have a gun either, or, Jack assumed, he wouldn’t have charged him like a football player but shot him instead. The assailant was heavier than Jack by at least forty pounds. Despite this advantage and his position on the ground, Jack was able to hold him off.

“Michelle, cut the power!”

It was Ace’s voice he heard through the earpiece.

“On it!” came Michelle’s reply.

Meanwhile Jack managed to land a punch in the assailant’s throat, making him choke. He used the temporary distraction to kick him off and roll to the side. Jack jumped up and saw his gun a few feet from where the armed guard had fallen. Next to the dead guy lay a gun, too. Jack rushed to his Glock. The assailant staggered to his feet, his eyes on the dead man’s gun, just as the lights went out.

Michelle had managed to cut the power. Only a sliver of light shone from the partially closed double doors into the space where Jack was fighting. Jack lunged for his gun, hoping that he’d estimated the distance correctly. With the fingertips of his left hand, Jack felt the cold metal of the Glock. He stretched farther to wrap his hand around it.

Just then, he heard a loud humming sound like that of a furnace, and an instant later, the lights were back on. Jack had no time to transfer his gun into his right hand, because the assailant now had a gun pointed in his direction. Jack pulled the trigger twice in quick succession. The heavy opponent fell like a dead tree.