Flashback - Page 105

“What?”

“Smell.”

Lynch took a deep whiff. Natural gas. He looked back at Sloane. “Did you…?”

She nodded. “I turned on the spare gas tank that Detective Williams left with us. The back room should be a powder keg by now.”

“What do you plan to do with that?”

She pointed to one of the assault rifles he was holding. “Mind if I borrow one?”

“Do you know how to use it?”

“I’ve fired one before.”

“Where?” he asked doubtfully.

“Beverly Hills Gun Club. A bachelorette party.”

He handed her the assault weapon. “Sounds fun.”

“You have no idea.”

She turned on a pocket flashlight and pushed it through a narrow opening between the structure’s tin panels. “We’d better get back to the trees.”

Sloane and Lynch ran for a nearby cluster of trees and crouched in the shadows. Sloane’s flashlight cast just enough illumination that a faint glow was visible in the shack. “One of those guys is going to see it,” she said. “But they won’t go inside alone.”

Lynch nodded in agreement. “I believe you’re right.”

Moments later, one of Krebb’s gunmen came into view. He stopped short when he saw the light leaking between the tin panels. He raised a walkie-talkie to his mouth and spoke. A moment later, Krebb’s other gunman approached from the other side.

“Now, if only the other three sentries will join them, we’ll be—” He saw something. “Wait. I see two more coming from the rear.”

“I saw them,” Sloane said cheerfully. “And one of them was nodding to someone on the other side. We may have a full house.”

“You’re good at this,” Lynch said. “I know some people who might want to see your résumé.”

She smiled. “I already have a job.”

“If this works the way I think it will, we need to run like hell to the boat.”

She nodded. “Kendra and Chloe will meet us there. I told them what to expect.”

“Good. The second those guys go inside, we should start firing through every opening in those panels.”

“Got it.”

The gunmen held up their fingers and silently counted down using a series of nonverbal hand signals, then burst into the shack with impressive synchronicity. Lynch and Sloane raised their guns and fired into the shack.

No more than four shots had been fired when BOOM! a bullet had sparked and ignited the gas-filled structure. A terrific explosion rocked the installation, and the fireball leaped over fifty feet into the air. Lynch shielded Sloane from the falling debris.

When they finally looked up, they saw that one of the men had somehow survived the blast. He staggered in front of the flaming building with his hair and clothes on fire, then fell facedown onto the ground. Unlike the others, he wore a shock baton on his belt, which now sparked and sizzled as his body was consumed by flames.

“Let’s hit it,” Lynch said.

“Right.”

He and Sloane ran toward the boats.