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When the door had opened, light momentarily flashed into the dark dining room, almost blinding Matt and Jim.
Then the door swung shut. Jim, his eyes not quite adjusted from the sudden light, instinctively jumped in Omar’s direction. He hit him square, getting his left arm around Omar’s throat.
They then went to the floor, making a helluva noise.
“Omar!” the male inside the kitchen yelled. “What the hell’d you just do?”
As Jim punched Omar in the face, Omar’s pistol went off. The round went into the ceiling.
Matt had his pistol aimed at the pair, but could not see well enough in the dark to get a good aim.
Then he heard Jim mutter, “You sonofabitch.”
The pistol went off again. This time, the round found Omar, who suddenly stopped fighing. He moaned and clutched at his chest.
Then Payne suddenly heard and saw the swinging door get kicked open-and he saw and felt it hit him, pushing him back against the wall.
He instinctively kicked the door back.
And there he saw the other Hispanic male. He was bringing up the muzzle of a bullpup-style weapon, about to get an aim on Jim Byrth.
Matt Payne followed Jim Byrth’s lead-and jumped at the man, wrapping his left arm over the man’s left shoulder and grabbing the forearm of the weapon. As he pulled it upward, the gun went off, the muzzle spraying a stream of lead up a wall and across the ceiling.
Payne began pummeling the man’s head with his pistol, and threw him to the ground. And then he felt another pair of hands on the man’s body-Jim Byrth was stripping him of the bullpup weapon.
Payne hit him in the head again. And the man went limp.
Payne cuffed him and left him on the floor.
Matt and Jim stood. Jim had the P90 submachine gun slung on his right shoulder.
“Nice work, Marshal.”
“You okay?”
“Yup. No more holes in me than I came with.”
“Let’s clear the kitchen and the rest. Then you can get this asshole trussed up.”
They found the kitchen clear but for one person who looked to be a woman. There was a pillowcase over her head, and she was taped to a chair. They immediately deemed her not a threat.
Payne went to the back door and looked out the window. He just barely saw Tony Harris to the side of the door, waiting for someone to flee.
“It’s me, Tony!” he called. “Matt Payne!”
Matt thought he heard the woman whimper.
He unlocked the door and opened it.
“C’mon in, and clear the rest of the house with Jim!”
Tony Harris entered and said, “Jesus, Matt! What’s with all the gunfire?”
“Just another day at the OK Corral, Tony.”
Through the open swinging door, Harris saw a stream of blood o
n the floor. He moved for a better look, then saw the dead body of the Hispanic male on the floor of the next room.
