Have Gun, Will Travel (The Bare Bones MC #5)(35)

The two goons, of course, looked at Slayer as though watching a movie. This was probably the last thing they expected, and Slayer easily nailed both of them, one right through the forehead. Slayer pumped his fist while Wolf murmured in Sax’s ear,

“What the f*ck? Why the f*ck did he do that? I thought we agreed to wait—”

“Let’s get the f*ck out of here,” Sax barked. “I don’t want to be associated with this clusterf*ck.”

Meanwhile, two more goons had emerged from the front door, naturally to see what the f*ck. Slayer took time off from his dancing to pop off another one through the heart, giving the second guy time to duck and cover behind a big flowerpot containing a saguaro cactus. Sax started to race downhill the way he’d come, behind the shed. No one need ever know he’d been there.

But something wouldn’t let him. It was like Slayer was on a suicide mission, dead set on proving his bravery in a foolish shootout he was bound to lose. He wasn’t even wearing a bulletproof vest. Did he have a f*cking death wish or something? Did he want it shouted from the rooftops that he was a f*cking hitman there to off Tormenta? Except, you know, minus the part where he actually offed Tormenta?

Sax’s body acted before he engaged his brain. He found himself racing into the clearing, too, wrenching Slayer’s pistol arm just as he squeezed off a few shots into the glazed ceramic cactus pot. Sax disarmed Slayer easily, transferring his Sig Sauer into Slayer’s left, non-dominant hand. This might slap sense into Slayer’s mind without actually neutralizing him—for Sax didn’t want Slayer shot, either. Just to take a few seconds to breathe.

“Down the hill!” Sax ordered the enthusiastic actor.

Slayer was already transferring his piece back to his right hand to shoot at the flowerpot some more. “I only got three of them!” He pointed to the men sprawled in various positions, with various head and body wounds. “I want to get all of them and this pendejo won’t come out! Salir de detrás de esa maceta, cobarde!” Come out from behind that flowerpot, you coward!

“That’s enough,” said Sax, his hand on Slayer’s forearm trying to lower his shooting arm. “Tormenta isn’t going to come out now. He’s the one we want.”

In fact, two more goons had appeared, but not at the door like fools. One was at a front window, now shooting at Sax and Slayer. Another seemed to be shooting from the garage, behind the SUV.

“We can storm the house!” cried Slayer idealistically.

Sax actually heard the bullets cracking past him. It had been a long time since he’d heard that noise. Four or five hit the metal shed where they’d been hiding. It was only a matter of seconds before one of them hit flesh. “It’s Tormenta we want, and we’ve lost the advantage of surprise! This is your last f*cking chance, Slayer, but I’m out of here!”

Sax was at last forced to abandon the melodramatic hitman when Slayer twirled about, a new flesh wound gouged in his hip. This might enrage Slayer even more, so as Sax ran down the driveway, he pointed into the sky and bellowed at the house.

“Look! A drone! It’s the federales spying on you with drones, Slayer!”

That shut up the shooters long enough for Sax, and now Slayer, to make their getaway. As Sax hotfooted it down the gravel drive, he met Wolf Glaser, who jogged on past just long enough to shoot at the guy in the garage. Sax could hear the unmistakable sound of bullets piercing a so-called armored vehicle, and Wolf’s jubilant “Ha ha!” rang in his ear.

Sax didn’t break his stride when he met Tobiah fumbling with his computer screen. “What the f*ck, Saxonberg? Telling them to shoot my drone?”

“Abort, you dumb shits!” Sax called. “Where’s your vehicle?” he asked Slayer, who was admirably keeping up with the much more fit man.

Slayer panted, “My Fiat is down on the main street. I smartly did not wish to come up the drive—”

Sax was busy whipping branches off his scoot. “Never mind. You’re coming with me. You can get the cage later, when it’s not so hot here.” As much as he didn’t relish the idea of riding two up with the loathsome thespian, time was of the essence now, as even Tobiah came hauling ass down the hill without his beloved quadcopter.

Tobiah was throwing the iPad into the van’s driver’s seat, but he paused in the process of launching himself inside the vehicle. His remarks were directed straight at Sax. He was remarkably calm, for a guy who had just done the James Brown away from some major Mexican cartel gunmen. “Thanks a lot, Doctor Saxonberg, for losing my drone. The last thing my screen showed was Tormenta standing at the door pointing right at it with a f*cking semiautomatic in his hand. Then the screen went blank.”

Sax was getting on his saddle, handing Slayer his brain bucket. “How much can those things cost? Five hundred dollars?”

“Whoo hoo!” cried Wolf Glaser like Tarzan, leaping into the van’s passenger seat. “I totally buried that moron hiding inside the garage!”

Tobiah didn’t seem to notice. He slammed his door but spoke out the open window as he started up the boxy vehicle. “It wasn’t the damned drone. It’s the fact that I registered it under warranty online.” His voice finally became a shade more hysterical as each word came from his mouth. By the time he finished, he was nearly crying with frustration. “I never thought I’d use it for anything like this. Now that they’ve shot it down, they can get the serial number and figure out who we are. I wanted to be sure it was under warranty in case a part broke! I was only trying to be safe, like any normal drone owner would!”