Don't Order Dog_ 1(165)
As the local officers shuffled out of the hanger towards their patrol cars, Alex addressed the six SOG team members now standing around him. “You’ve all had time to review the brief, correct?” he asked.
The men nodded silently.
“Then you know as much as I do… which means none of us knows what the fuck we’re about to walk into here. Make no mistake, gentlemen – these guys aren’t amateurs. Our primary target managed to outmaneuver six of our colleagues in Amsterdam last week, and I still can’t explain how he did it. But I can tell you this – I will not accept any such fuck-ups here today.” He pointed at the map. “The saloon is located here on Route 66. I want three two-man teams. Teams One and Two will take flanking positions on the street one block from the entrance. Team Three will cover the back alley. I’ll take position across the street in the café on the southwest corner. Got it?”
“Yes sir,” his men replied.
Alex paused and looked at his six agents. “There are two ways this could go down today, gentlemen,” he said matter-of-factly. “If our terrorists haven’t arrived yet, we get Halston and everyone else out of that fucking saloon and set up camp for their arrival. But if they are here, you know the protocol. We’ll do everything we can for hostages, but not at the expense of allowing a single one of these motherfuckers to walk out alive. Either way, no one makes any decisions without my say so. Is that understood?”
The men nodded their heads in unison.
“Okay then, let’s go.”
∞
Chilly stepped back and took one final look at the body of the young woman in front of him before nodding his head. “The package is ready,” he said casually, shoving his small toolkit into his backpack. He glanced over at Tall Tommy. “You almost ready?”
“Done,” the Australian replied, throwing his satchel over his shoulder. The two men looked expectantly at Chip.
“Alright, alright… I’m almost ready,” Chip said with a gruff tone. “God, I’m getting too old for this shit.” He stood up and looked around the room curiously. “Where’s Dublin?”
“Left a half hour ago,” Tall Tommy said with a slight grin. “What else is new?”
“That’s fine,” Chip replied as he dialed a number on his cellphone. “As long he isn’t passed out drunk behind the bar.” He walked over to the window and pressed the speaker button on his phone. “Max, are you in position?”
“In position and ready.”
“Good. Let me know what’s happening out there.” Chip pocketed the phone and turned back to Chilly and Tall Tommy. “Okay, it’s about that time. Are you two appropriately dressed for the occasion?” he asked wryly. Both men shrugged before taking off their sweaters. Chip examined their shirts with a critical eye. “Those should work just fine,” he said with a slight grin. “You better get into position.”
Chilly looked at the older man somberly. “Don’t stay too long.”
Chip nodded. “I’ll be right behind you.” He watched the two men exit through the back alley before rubbing his eyes tiredly. I really am getting too old for this shit he thought somberly. Luckily there was just one last detail to attend to before the show started. He walked over to the front door and sorted through a large bag of items Max had brought in from the van. Satisfied everything was there, he grabbed the bag and walked over to where Tom Coleman was seated on the floor.
Tom Coleman looked up with a dazed, quizzical stare. “What’s in there?” he asked.
Chip dropped the bag down in front of Tom and reached inside. “Happy holidays, Tom,” he said as he pulled out a heavy red coat and smiled. “Would you like to take a walk?”
∞
Officer Damien Parker parked his patrol car at the center of the intersection of Humphreys Street and Historic Route 66 and quietly listened to the chatter of the radio. He and the other officers had finished clearing and barricading the area around Joe’s Last Stand Saloon as ordered. Now it was up to the Feds to find out if all this nonsense was really worth the trouble.
He glanced in his rearview mirror at the sound of approaching vehicles. The two Suburbans carrying Agent Murstead and his team of SOG agents were heading towards him at high speed. He watched as the shiny black vehicles swerved around his patrol car towards the target zone. As they passed, Murstead’s commanding voice crackled over the radio.
“This is Agent Murstead. My team and I are now approaching the target location. Any officers within two blocks of the area are ordered to evacuate immediately.”