“Wirut,” Shevu ordered. “Put a flash-bang through that window on my mark, will you?”
“Sir,” said the sergeant, and slipped a charge into the feed of his grenade launcher.
“Squads, when you access the fourth floor we’ll light them up from here. Count us down.”
Ben couldn’t hear the response. He really wanted a helmet with full comlink. But what he lacked in technology he almost made up for with his own Force-senses. Now that he focused on the shattered and gaping window where the blasterfire had emerged, he could feel the fear and hostility inside. There was a lot of general fear in the building, almost certainly the cumulative terror of other residents who were stuck inside the block.
“Once we’ve neutralized the main targets, we’ll do a sweep of all the apartments just to be certain,” said Shevu. “Can’t guarantee that CSF identified everyone. Ben, are you up for playing sniffer droid for us?”
“Yes sir!” It wasn’t a game anymore, but he desperately wanted to play his part.
“Who do we lift, then, sir?” Lekauf asked. “Anyone with a criminal record? That’s pretty well the whole neighborhood.”
“No, only the ones we think we might be interested in,” said Shevu. “Or we’ll be here all night.”
The raid was surprisingly quiet. Ben could see the occasional flare of light through windows as blasters discharged, and heard the accompanying faint bdattt-bdattt-bdattt of rounds. It was as if the whole neighborhood was holding its breath, waiting for the fighting to be over. Without the comlinks to the rest of Bravo Company he couldn’t tell how far they had penetrated the building, and Jacen was not only silent but shut down in the Force. Ben couldn’t feel him at all. He wondered if his Master-and Jacen was his Master, whatever the Jedi council said-now hid his presence instinctively as a defense mechanism.
Then Wirut reacted as if someone unseen had tapped him on the shoulder. He aimed his grenade launcher and there was a whoosh of gas as the flash-bang shot into the building. Ben caught the fallout of the deafening sound and blinding light even from twenty meters away, and his ears took a few seconds to hear the shouts and the hammering sound of blaster bolts as soldiers stormed the apartment.
Silence fell. Shevu cocked his head as if listening, and the faint wail of a child somewhere inside made Ben’s hair stand on end.
“Okay,” said Shevu. “Two targets down, two unaccounted for. Ben, with me. Let’s work our way down from the top.”
Every apartment that opened its doors voluntarily to them was full of suspicious, hostile faces that were clearly no strangers to visits from the authorities. But Ben sensed no purpose or immediate danger. He kept close to Shevu, and when they emerged on the next floor, Jacen was already crouched outside one apartment talking earnestly to a couple of 967 men. He beckoned Ben to him.
“What do you sense in there, Ben?”
Ben closed his eyes and imagined the rooms beyond the double doors. He’d seen the interiors of enough apartments in the block now to picture the layout within. When he concentrated he felt the prickling in his throat that indicated an immediate threat, and his mind was drawn to one room where a man and a woman-he knew that, and wasn’t quite certain how-had some grim purpose.
“I don’t like the feel of that either,” said Jacen. He seemed particularly troubled by it. Ben thought he would have been used to violent intentions by now. “I think that’s our two missing targets.”
“The old-fashioned way, sir?” One of the 967 held up a roll of detonator ribbon.
“Let’s try a little REBJ,” said Jacen, drawing his lightsaber. The squad with him stacked on either side of the door. “That’s what you call it, isn’t it? Rapid entry by Jedi? Okay, here goes rapid ..”
Jacen held up his left hand and lowered it along the line where the two doors joined, not touching them. He was a clear meter away. The doors shot apart, slamming back into the housing on either side, and Jacen’s lightsaber seemed to have a life of its own as he deflected red blaster bolts that flared from inside the apartment. Ben should have known better than to stand behind him and Shevu went to pull him aside, but he fended off a stray blaster bolt and piled in behind Jacen on blind instinct.
Two people inside-yes, a man and a woman, he’d been right-aimed at Jacen, but the blasters flew from their hands as if snatched by an unseen hand.
The woman, about as old as Ben’s mother, dark hair scraped back from her face and a tattoo across one eye, scrambled to reach for something-probably another blaster-but Jacen slammed her flat against the wall with the Force and pinned her there. The man lay slumped against a chair, groaning. The squad poured in, and the two prisoners were cuffed and dragged out.