Riptide

movement in the house that we can see.
    Chuck wants to go up close and look through the windows."
    "Tell Chuck and Dave to stay put," Adam said. "Here's Savich,
    he'll give you the rundown on what we're facing."
    Savich was concise, his voice clipped.
    "I don't like this," Tommy said and puffed frantically on his pipe.
    "Damn, a woman living way out here, all alone, no neighbors for a

couple of miles. I'll bet he scoped her out really fast and that he's
    been here with her. God, this doesn't look good. We've seen nothing
    of either of them. Maybe she's not here. Maybe MAX is wrong
    and she was never here."
    "Yeah, right, Tommy," Rollo said, and he sounded depressed. He
    was short, dressed all in black, and he was perfectly bald, his head
    shining brightly beneath the summer moon.
    Tommy the Pipe said, "Maybe he left before we got here. It
    could be that he took her with him, as a hostage."
    Linda Cartwright was a woman alone, and Becca knew he'd
    been in there, with her.
    Damn the bright moon, Adam was thinking, it lit them up as
    clearly as daylight from the front of the farmhouse. But there were
    thick pine trees crowding the eastern side of the small farmhouse.
    Folk grew potatoes in this area, and so much of the land was cleared, open just occasional random clumps of pines and maples dotted here
    and there, but no place to hide. There was a big mechanical digger
    sitting in the middle of an open field. There was a small sagging
    porch in front of the house, a naked lightbulb burning over the front
    door.
    On the eastern side of the house, he could get to within twenty
    feet of the structure before the pine trees played out. It would have
    to be good enough. He pulled out his Delta Elite, thoughtfully
    rubbed his temple with the barrel. Then he said, a feral gleam in his
    eyes, "I got a plan. Gather round."
    "I don't like it," Savich said after Adam had fallen silent. "Too
    dangerous."
    Adam said, "I was thinking that all of us could go in guns blazing,
    raising hell, but the woman might still be alive. We can't take
    the chance he'd pop her then and there and then kill two or three
    of us, what with all this damned moonlight."

"All right," Savich said after a moment, "but I'll go with you."
    "Bullshit," said Adam. "I don't care if you're a damned FBI agent
    and your goal in life is to catch bad guys. You're still married and
    you've got a kid. What I need from you and everyone else is good
    cover. I hear you're a pretty good shot, Savich. Prove it."
    "I'm coming with you, Adam," Becca said. "I'll cover your back
    from right behind you."
    "No." He held up his hand. "I'm the professional here. Just say
    some prayers, that's all I ask."
    "No," Becca said, and he realized then that if he wanted her to
    stay put, he'd have to have one of the men tie her down. He didn't
    like it, but he understood it. It could be dangerous, too dangerous.
    He just didn't know what to do.
    "I'm coming," she said, and he knew she was committed. "I have
    to, Adam, just have to."
    He wished he didn't understand, but he did. He nodded. He
    heard Savich snort. "Becca will cover me from the woods," he said.
    "No, no arguments, Becca. That's the deal."
    Sherlock took the walkie-talkie and spoke to Chuck and Dave
    at the back of the house, told them what was going to happen.
    Becca's heart was pounding hard and fast. The night was chilly
    but she was sweating. She felt faint nausea in her stomach. This was
    real and it was scary and she was terrified, not just for Adam and
    her, but for that poor woman inside the house, that poor woman
    she prayed was still alive. Sherlock and the men looked calm, alert,
    ready. Tommy put his pipe back in his pocket and handed Becca a
    Kevlar vest. "It's the smallest one, after Sherlock's." He shrugged.
    "Let me help you with it. You're going to stay under cover in the
    woods, remember. You'll be out of the line of fire, but hey, it always
    pays to be careful."
    Once she was strapped into the vest, she pulled her Coonan, and

checked the clip three times. Adam took one look at her and didn't
    say a thing, just mouthed at her to stay a bit behind him. Her heart
    was pounding harder and faster than it had just five minutes before.
    Her hand was shaking, no good, no good. She stuffed her left hand
    in her pocket. Keep steady, she thought, as she looked down at her
    right hand, which held her pistol. She looked over at Sherlock,
    who was frowning at one of the Velcro fastenings on her Kevlar
    vest. No one was