He glanced at his watch before making the most important call of his life. It was 9:23 p.m., and there was no turning back. Once done, it couldn’t be undone, and everything would change dramatically. He’d either be dead or incarcerated, or he would get away with the revenge he’d been planning for the last few weeks. He sucked in a deep breath, let it out slowly, and hit the voice-altering app on his phone before pressing the three crucial numbers.
“911, what is the nature of your emergency?”
He calmed himself before speaking. “It looks like several guys are trying to break into the house across the street from me. It doesn’t appear that anyone is home. At least, the interior lights are all off, but I saw the men prowling around the windows in the glow of the yard lights.”
“I’ll need that address, sir, and how many offenders do you see?”
He rattled off the address and told the operator that he’d seen three men.
“Units have been dispatched and are on their way, and your name is?”
The line went dead.
“Sir?”
After a final check to confirm that the locations tab on his burner phone had been turned off, he pocketed it. Squinting in the darkness, he gave every direction a thorough once-over to make sure nobody was around before he continued on. Earlier that day, he’d stopped by, surveilled the area for cameras, and twisted the knob on the back door—it wasn’t locked. Pry marks would surely give away the location of the building he planned to shoot from, and he didn’t intend to make the job easy for the cops. He took the stairs to the roof and awaited their arrival.
He focused on the approaching police cars, and was impressed. It took the patrol units only four minutes from the time he’d hung up until the time he saw them several blocks away, but getting the ambulances close enough to be helpful would be an entirely different matter.
Determination covered his face as he took his spot on the rooftop of the vacant factory two blocks from the address he’d given the 911 dispatcher. From his third-floor perch, he saw the flashing blue lights. Two vehicles told him that between two and four officers would lose their lives that night.
The boys in blue are almost here. Sorry, guys, but I have to do what I have to do, and justice is better served as a blindside.
After rolling the plugs to fit, he jammed them into his ears and pressed the bipod-mounted AR-15’s buttstock against his shoulder. He checked the sights from his vantage point as he waited. Seconds later, the patrol cars rolled up to the curb and parked, and two officers exited each vehicle.
Just like shooting caged animals. They don’t have a chance in hell.
The night vision scope worked flawlessly as he turned his ball cap backward and zeroed in on the first officer’s head.
I can still change my mind and call it off.
He had only a second to think before he would lose the opportunity. He squeezed the rifle’s trigger and, with a left-to-right sweep, mowed down all four men within seconds.
The ear-piercing cracks would have quickly alerted the neighborhood, and calls to the police station would flood in. More units would arrive soon. Wasting no time, he packed up his gear, exited the building, and disappeared into the darkness.