Dead America - El Paso Pt. 6 (Dead America - The Third Week Book 3) by Derek Slaton

Author:Derek Slaton [Slaton, Derek]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-05-30T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

Whitaker and Landry stood by the back windows that flanked the door. They aimed their weapons to the east towards the two gunmen in the neighboring yard.

“Just so we’re clear, I’m taking the one on the left,” Whitaker said quietly.

Landry nodded, waving her off. “Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

“Which one is on your left?” she prompted, raising an eyebrow.

He rolled his eyes and raised his left hand.

She smiled and nodded. “Very good,” she said, in a gentle voice reserved for small children.

“One time,” he muttered. “One time I fuck that up, and you’re never gonna let me live it down.”

Her grin widened. “Nope.”

Hammond checked his watch in the living room, noting that their ten minutes was almost at an end. “It’s almost go time in here,” he hissed. “Y’all ready for phase one?”

“Light ‘em up, Sarge,” Whitaker replied.

The Sergeant turned to the window. “Hey!” he called. “What do you say we chat about this for a minute or so?”

“You have exactly one minute left before I blow that house up,” Rodriguez yelled back, looking at his watch. “So chat away.”

Hammond made sure his belongings were securely attached to him, and held the detonator tightly in his hand. “Never got your name there, bud.”

“Because I never gave it,” Rodriguez bellowed back, amusement in his tone. “But you can call me Rodriguez.”

“Rodriguez, huh?” the Sergeant called. “Pretty generic name there. What happened? Your parents not have any creativity or something?”

His opponent barked a laugh. “Coming from a country with names like John and Mike, I wouldn’t be so quick to criticize others.”

“Fair enough,” Hammond replied, chuckling to himself. “Say, I got a question for you!”

Rodriguez sighed into the megaphone. “Go ahead.”

“Where in the world did you guys get that riot gear from?” the Sergeant asked. “That looks like some heavy duty stuff.” He readied his rifle, taking a deep breath.

Rodriguez motioned for one of the guards to step up beside him, and chattered away in Spanish for a moment. He straightened and raised the device to his lips again. “He says it’s none of your goddamn business where he got it from,” he said brightly.

Hammond clucked his tongue to alert the others, and then ducked into the window, firing a quick single round into the man’s protective gear, knocking him back onto his ass. At the same exact moment, Whitaker and Landry squeezed their triggers and took out the two men hiding on the east side of the house.

Rodriguez raised his hands and stepped forward to prevent his men from shooting. He barked out some commands in Spanish, holding up the rocket launcher as if to remind them that he was in charge. Once everyone relaxed, he raised the megaphone again, the fallen guard getting to his feet next to him with a grunt.

“That was not very smart,” Rodriguez said.

“My bad there, bud,” Hammond replied with a jovial tone. “Just not a fan of rudeness when there’s no need for it.”

Rodriguez checked his watch. “While understandable, I’m afraid your time is up,” he replied.

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