Thwack!
Mike Benson heard the sniper’s bullet strike the FBI agent standing behind him. The powerful 7.62mm round drove downward at an angle and punched an exit wound just below his sternum on the right side. The bullet tore through the agent’s left lung and struck the bottom of his heart as it exited his chest. He was dead as soon as he hit the oversized stone walkway.
Panic flew through the crowd like wildfire as visitors realized what had happened. A woman screamed, and Mike heard a man yell, “Sniper! Get down!” He realized it was Logan doing the shouting, now prone on his belly after diving to the ground at the sound of the shot.
The blond man took full advantage of the diversion and ran toward the exit at a full-out sprint.
Mike watched Logan scramble to his feet to pursue him. He radioed for police and medical support for his downed agent, knowing it was already too late as he knelt next to the fallen man.
He heard one of the other agents shout, “Sir, second suspect at two o’clock!”
Mike looked up from the dead agent and saw a dark-skinned man in a red top and khakis moving quickly toward the Houston Street exit.
“Agent Reynolds, second suspect moving in your direction. Suspect wearing khakis and a dark-red top. Assume he’s armed. I say again. Assume he’s armed!”
A second shot rang out. Crack! Mike saw the bullet ricochet off the walkway near Logan, who was already on his feet and running after the first suspect.
He heard John Quick over the radio say, “Shooter is on the roof of the apartment building across the street to the south! I’m going after him!”
Mike looked at the gigantic, city block–sized apartment complex across Crockett Street, but he couldn’t see the shooter on the rooftop. He was about to respond when a series of gunshots, followed by automatic weapons fire, erupted outside on Bonham Street.
From the sound of it, he realized his agents must’ve encountered a heavily armed backup team. They were likely outgunned and in the most need of his assistance. He knew Logan and John could handle themselves.
This is turning into a goddamn nightmare.
Mike screamed at Logan across the grass and into his radio to ensure John heard it as well. “I’m heading outside through the security building up to Houston Street to assist! John—Logan—good luck! The shooter killed Agent Stansfield.”
There was a pause as he controlled the rage starting to affect his voice. “Catch these motherfuckers but try to take at least one of them alive, if possible!”
He turned and looked at the two young agents still with him. He pointed at the older of the two, hoping he had enough experience for what he was about to ask. “Parker, you’re with me. Turner, stay with Agent Stansfield’s body until the police arrive. We’re going to go help Reynolds. Radio me if anything else happens.”
Without another word, he and Agent Parker ran toward the security building behind them that led to the Houston Street exit beyond.
Jesus Christ. This is happening too fast.
Edward Rodriguez had watched the drop from the apartment building across the street. From his vantage point next to a rooftop entrance in the middle of the building, he’d covered Carlos since his boss had entered the plaza. He’d hoped this would be an uneventful exchange, especially after last night’s turn of events.
The former Army Ranger sniper appreciated smooth operations, and this one had been anything but, so far. The money was more than enough motivation for him to do whatever was needed to make this morning’s exchange a success, but he still preferred for things to go the easy way. A smooth operation ensured both his safety and financial well-being, which were the most important things to him.
Edward had watched Carlos sit down on the bench, enter the church, exit, and link up with the man at the memorial, all without the slightest hiccup. Once Carlos handed over the flag, Edward had figured the deal was concluded, and he was beginning to disassemble his Remington M24 sniper rifle to return down the stairwell to the street below.
His balloon of optimism had been deflated when he saw the small group of what were clearly government agents enter the plaza from the security building.
He’d waited, silently hoping that they hadn’t seen either Carlos or the blond man walk away from each other. Then something had happened—Edward couldn’t hear or see what it was from this distance—but it had caused the blond man to run and the agents to pursue him.
He remembered the guidance Carlos had given him: No matter what happens, this drop has to occur. The success of this entire operation rests on it. Do anything—absolutely anything—to ensure it does. Understand?
Carlos’s words echoed in his head as he drew a bead on one of the agents, exhaled, and slowly pulled the trigger, turning the quiet San Antonio morning into a modern-day O.K. Corral.