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I crouched low and followed the figure toward the house.
The rain masked the sound of my pursuit, but it also kept me from hearing the intruder. I moved on a diagonal to intercept them, catching glimpses of their shape through the trees. There were long periods where they disappeared behind a tree trunk and I lost sight of them for several seconds. I had to keep guessing where they were.
I slowed down as we both neared the house. Amirah’s bedroom window, fifty feet away now, was totally dark. The intruder was definitely heading toward it.
I checked my P226 sidearm and clicked the safety off. But I kept it in its holster. According to California law, I could use deadly force in self-defense or the defense of others, so long as I had a reasonable fear of imminent harm. If the intruder was a peeping Tom with a set of binoculars, I would restrain them and call the police. If they had a weapon…
I lost sight of the figure again behind a tree. I continued stalking forward. Rain pattered against my jacket and soaking through my clothes, but I didn’t notice any of it. The only thing I cared about was the figure on the other side of the tree, who should be fifteen feet away by the time I came around the side…
I rounded the tree and stumbled over a shape that shouldn’t have been there.
The shape grunted in surprise as I caught my balance.
Lightning flashed, and for a brief moment, everything seemed still. The figure I had tripped over was a man wearing a trench coat. His face was upturned to look at me, and a long rifle was held in his hand. It was aimed at the house.
He reacted with expert quickness, swinging the rifle toward my chest and flicking off his safety in one motion. I kicked forward with my boot, striking the gun near the trigger. I felt fingerscrunchunder my kick, and the man screamed and dropped the rifle.
I reached for my sidearm, but the intruder swung his arm before I could. I ducked back from the blow, hearing the razor-hiss of a knife slashing through the air where my neck had just been. Two more slashes forced me backward, and then the man lunged for my belly. I barely had enough time to knock the thrust away before it spilled my guts onto Amirah’s yellow flowers.
The man was good, and I was slow and tired. Even with adrenaline pounding in my temple, I wasn’t able to get my pistol out of its holster. All I could do was avoid the slashing knife.
My heel caught a tree root and I began to fall. The man leaped at the opportunity, but as I hit the ground I immediately spun sideways, anticipating the blow. The knife cut through my jacket like it was paper, and I felt heat on my upper arm.
I ignored it and gritted my teeth. I didn’t survive all those years in Afghanistan just to be killed by some celebrity-stalking punk.
The next slash narrowly missed my face, and then I decided it was time to roll the dice. I leaped forward, closing the distance and grabbing the arm holding the knife. Both of us rolled to the ground, grabbing and grappling to get on top.
He might have been quick, but I was stronger. With a roar I rolled him sideways and pinned his arms to the side, then threw a headbutt into his face. The cartilage of his nose gave way beneath my forehead, and the man screamed.
I grabbed the knife and tossed it away, then punched the man in the face twice. Finally, I drew my sidearm from its holster and pressed it against his chest. Rain streamed down my face and dripped onto his, which was red with blood.
“Who the fuck are you?” I growled.
He spit up at me.
“Wrong answer.” I reached behind me for the walkie-talkie.
I never saw the blow that hit me in the back of the head. My vision went white, like another lightning bolt had flashed across the sky, and then the ground lurched up and hit me in the side of the face. Everything spun like I was drunk.
“I got the gun,” one man hissed. “Let’s go.”
“My knife!” the other whined.
“No time. Let’sgo.”
I don’t know how long I lay on the ground. I was totally soaked by the time I managed to get to my hands and knees. The earth still swayed as I pushed to my feet, and I had to use a hand to steady myself.
“Cooper,” I said into the walkie-talkie. “Two suspects are fleeing the property. They’re armed.”
“What’s their route of egress?”
“Do not pursue,” I said firmly while scanning the ground. “Stay with Apple Pie and call the cops.”
“You okay, boss?”
“I’m alive. Took a blow to the head before they fled.”
“Fuck,” Cooper cursed. “I can’t believe they got away.”
