Near Miss

He tapped the shoulder of the man nearest the door. “Check.”

The man dropped to a crouch and peeked through the doorway. “Oh, shit,” he said.

“What?” Sarge whispered.

“All I see are bodies.”

“Everyone in,” Sarge ordered.

The first two entered, their guns raised. The next two followed, doing the same, and then the Sarge and the Corporal went in.

“What the hell?” someone said.

There were several bodies on the floor, all within a few feet of each other.

“Go,” Sarge said.

The men moved cautiously toward the bodies, sweeping the area with the barrels of their guns. When they reached them, they checked each for a pulse. All were dead.

That was bad, but more troubling to the Sarge was that none of them were Barrington.

“What happened?” the Corporal said.

Through gritted teeth, the Sarge said, “A clusterfu—”

A gunshot drowned him out.

Everyone ducked and looked around.

“Where did that come from?” someone asked.

The shot had been loud, so it had to have been close, and it wouldn’t have been caused by one of his men. They were all carrying silenced weapons. But there was no sign of a shooter.

A second shot rang out.

“There,” the Corporal said, pointing at a doorway near where Sarge and the others were.

Everyone ran toward it.

Stone and Carly were just over halfway across the deck when the ballroom door flew open, and several silhouettes rushed out and took cover. Stone motioned to the bar as it was the closest place to hide.

As they crept behind it, they heard one of the new arrivals say, “There’s another body. It’s Craddock. He’s dead.”

“See,” Carly whispered to Stone. “Not hard.”

“Can we discuss your marksmanship later?”

They peeked around the edge of the bar at the new arrivals.

“I count five,” Carly whispered into Stone’s ear.

Stone was about to agree when two more silhouettes exited the ballroom.

“I mean seven,” she said.

“Barrington!” an angry voice yelled. “I know you’re here. Come out. You’re only prolonging the inevitable!”

“He sounds upset,” Carly said.

“I’m not feeling particularly happy at the moment myself,” Stone said.

“Do you think that’s the Sarge?”

Across the room, someone said, “Sarge, I found something.”

“What is it?” the angry voice said.

“Yeah, I think it’s the Sarge,” Stone whispered to Carly.

“It’s a woman’s shoe,” the guy who’d found something said. “A nice one.”

“Sorry,” Carly said. “I took them off when I first stopped to shoot, then dropped them when we came out here.”

“Barrington,” the Sarge yelled, “I know you’re not alone. I tell you what. You give yourself up, and I’ll let your companion go unharmed.”

Stone peeked around the bar hoping to make out at least a shadowy shape, but the others were now hidden from view.

“I hear your mind turning,” Carly said.

“I’ll try to think quieter,” Stone said.

“If you’re considering taking him up on his offer—”

“I’m not. He’s bluffing.”

“You took the words out of my mouth.”

“That’s a first.”

The Sarge said, “Everyone, spread out.”

“Oh, good,” Stone said under his breath. “For a moment there, I thought we were in trouble.”

“I think we are in trouble,” Carly whispered.

“I was quoting Butch Cassidy. It’s what he says to Sundance at the end of the movie.”

“What movie?”

“Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.”

“That’s a movie?”

“It is, and a great one. Did I just find a hole in the mental database?”

“I think so,” Carly said, annoyed.

“Barrington, I’ll give you to the count of three,” Sarge yelled.

“You can worry about it later,” Stone whispered to Carly. “For now, just shoot at anything that moves.”

“One,” the Sarge bellowed. “Two.”

Teddy Fay was halfway across the body-strewn ballroom when he heard the Sarge yell, “Barrington, I’ll give you to the count of three.”

Teddy reached the door as the Sarge yelled, “One,” and pushed it open as Sarge yelled, “Two!”

There were five of the Sarge’s men spread out in front of him, heading into a deserted restaurant. Closer, to Teddy’s left, was the Corporal, and ten feet beyond him, the Sarge.

The Corporal had twisted around as the door opened, and had started to raise his gun, but lowered it when he realized it was someone he knew.

“Dial, what the hell are you doing here?” he asked.

Teddy answered by putting a bullet through the man’s forehead. He sent another shot toward the Sarge, but the Sarge had excellent reflexes and dove for cover the second Teddy had raised his weapon.

The other men, whose backs had been to him, were not quite as quick. Teddy fired five more shots. Three of the men went down, two of them permanently, while a fourth staggered out of sight, his left shoulder useless. The fifth was the only one other than the Sarge to get away cleanly.

Teddy slid behind a drink station just as the Sarge opened fire on him. The bullets dinged off an expresso machine and ripped through the cabinet sending shards of wood and plastic raining down on Teddy’s back.