At Rautanen’s place a government-issue gray Ford Taurus was parked in the driveway. Pete pulled up and parked on the street. The crowd of blacks at the corner by the apartments had grown, but it didn’t look as if they were getting set to make a move.
“Stay here,” McGarvey said.
He jumped out of the Hummer and pulled his pistol as he hurried up the driveway and looked inside the ONI car. There were no signs of violence in the car or on the gravel driveway leading from it up to the house.
Pete came up behind him. “Last time I stayed back it nearly didn’t work out in your favor,” she said. She’d drawn her weapon.
“Greg knows we’re coming, and I don’t think he’d get into a shootout with a couple of ONI guys trying to bring him in.”
“Depends on how screwed up he is.”
Mac went up to the front door and knocked with the butt of his pistol. “It’s me,” he said.
“Door’s unlocked,” Rautanen said from inside.
“Everything okay?”
“Five-by-five.”
“We’re coming in,” McGarvey said. He holstered his pistol and motioned for Pete to do the same.
The two ONI officers, in civilian clothes, were seated next to each other on the dilapidated old couch. Rautanen was perched on the arm of a matching easy chair, the Ithaca cradled loosely in the crook of his right arm. He was dressed this time in his desert-tan battle uniform, a navy-issue SIG Sauer P226 holstered on his chest.
“About time you guys showed up,” he said. “I was thinking about shooting these two for the hell of it. Not really sure exactly who they are.”
“Lieutenant Kevin Hardesty and Chief Petty Officer Caroline Cyr,” McGarvey said. “ONI, here to take you into protective custody on Captain Cole’s orders.”
“You have to be Mr. McGarvey,” Hardesty said. He was lean, built like a soccer player, with seriously dark eyes and a demeanor to match.
“Yes, and this is my partner, Pete Boylan.”
“First of all, we don’t like people pointing guns at us,” Hardesty said. “Especially when we’re here to help.”
“I don’t like people barging in on me, unless you think I’m breaking some navy reg,” Rautanen shot back. His temper was flaring. “Anyway I’m no longer in the navy.”
“We’re here trying to do you a favor. Captain Cole suggested—not ordered—that we come out to talk to you about a situation that Mr. McGarvey thinks might be coming your way.”
“There’s no proof yet,” Caroline Cyr said.
“Don’t be stupid,” McGarvey shot back. “Barnes and Ridder and their families were shot to death. How many more bodies do you guys want to see piled up until your bosses decide to stop covering their bureaucratic asses?”
Hardesty started to say something, but Caroline held him off. “We’re not the bad guys, Mr. Director. And, yes, we were briefed on you and what you think has been going on. And we were sent here to try to defuse the situation by taking Chief Rautanen into protective custody until the situation stabilizes.”
“The situation won’t stabilize. If they miss Ratman tonight, they’ll go after the other guys.”
“What other guys?” Hardesty said.
“If you don’t know that, asshole, what the hell are you doing here?” Pete asked.
“Following orders.”
“We’re not. In fact tonight some people are going to die here, and we’re going to kill them. Maybe you oughta call for reinforcements, or maybe call the cops on us, because it’s not going to be pretty.”
Hardesty tried to say something, but Pete cut him off.
“Maybe if you guys had been on the ball the other two guys and their families wouldn’t be dead now.” She was on a roll, her eyes flashing. “This isn’t how we’re supposed to treat the folks who go out there and put their lives on the line for the rest of us. Why don’t you pick up a rifle and hump your ass off to the Anwar Province or someplace tropical like that.”
“Did you take their guns?” McGarvey asked.
“No, sir,” Rautanen said, grinning.
“Get out of here,” McGarvey told the two ONI officers. “We appreciate what you’re trying to do, but more’s needed. The attack on our guys stops tonight.”
The ONI agents got up, and at the door Caroline turned back. “You think that something’s going down tonight?” she asked.
“It’s possible,” McGarvey said.
“Is there anything we can do for you, short of sending reinforcements.”
“Tell me what your specific orders are, and who gave them to you.”
Caroline smiled and shrugged. “Ah, well, good luck, you guys. I wish there was something we could do, I really do.”
After they walked out Rautanen went to the window and parted the curtain. “I don’t think the LT is real happy with his chief,” he said. He turned back. “They were here for show, no way in hell they wanted to take me in. Weren’t even surprised when I jumped them out front. Didn’t try to talk me out of anything.”
“I’m not surprised either,” McGarvey said.
Rautanen laid the shotgun on the coffee table and perched again on the arm of the easy chair. “So what’s the op tonight? Who’s coming after me, and why?”
“A group of German contractors hired by the Pakistani ISI, which wants payback for Neptune Spear.”
Rautanen broke out in a big grin. “No shit,” he said. “Are they after all of us?”
“With you it’d be three down, twenty-one to go.”
“Plus one.”
McGarvey shook his head. “Who?”
“The dog. Don’t forget the dog. He was right there with us, man.”
McGarvey let it ride for a beat. “These guys are good. German KSK. They don’t have a hard-on for you guys, but by the same token they don’t give a shit. It’s just another day at the office.”
“Good. Makes it professional. Nice and clean, nothing ambiguous. No second thoughts, no touchy-feelies, no hesitations. You see the shot, you take the shot.”
“Could get hairy,” Pete said, trying to bring him down just a little.
But Rautanen’s grin broadened. “Good. So what’s the op plan?”
“Tell me what you know about the apartments up the street. The layout, the people,” McGarvey said.
“No place you want to be,” Rautanen said. “Good people, most of them, but the kids are seriously pissed off, and I don’t blame them. It’s why I act crazy all the time, keep this place looking like a shit hole, so they’ll stay away.”
“Has it worked?” Pete asked.
Rautanen grinned. “Here I am.”