Magilla said, “I can adjust you. I studied chiropractic medicine several years ago.”
The thought of those hands twisting my neck…
Hondo looked at me and grinned.
I said, “Thanks, but I’ve got this guy I go to regularly, you know…”
“Sure. If you change your mind I’ll take care of you, no charge.”
“Great,” I said.
Magilla pointed ahead and said, “We’re almost there, end of the block.”
As we approached the intersection, Magilla said, “Stay back. I’ll check.” He pulled his pistol and stepped back so he was four feet from the corner of the building, then he took his time easing sideways to see beyond the edge of the building, checking first in front, then up to surrounding building tops, always looking over his sights.
I looked at Hondo and he nodded. Magilla used a movement that SWAT and Special Forces called “cutting the pie.”
By taking tiny slices of the view beyond the building’s edge, Magilla could actually see-and sight on-the enemy without being seen or at least without exposing more than his eye and the barrel of the pistol. Very effective, and he was doing it as if he’d had a lot of experience.
He’d cleared half the area when he jerked back. Magilla said, “Two of them by the Hummer. Let’s go back-“
He snapped his pistol over my head and fired behind us. His .44 magnum going off above my skull sounded like a bomb.
“Shit!” I yelled and ducked as I drew my own pistol. Magilla fired again, and Hondo fired an instant behind him. Two men writhed on the ground behind us and a third raced around the corner, yelling for help as he ran.
Magilla turned, took a step into the street and shot BaBoomBaBoom, so fast the sounds joined and the two men dropped by the Hummer. He tossed Hondo the keys. “Go. Get her out of here.”
Then he was shooting over the top of my head again.
“Shit!” I said again as I ducked in reflex.
Four men retreated around the corner as they drug the two downed men with them.
Hondo said to Magilla, “Come to Archie’s Gym, Venice. We’ll be there.”
We advanced guns out, toward the Hummer. Hondo was ten feet in front of us, and I moved in front of Jett saying, “Put your fingers on the small of my back and stay that close.”
“Okay.” She sounded solid, that girl.
When Hondo was three steps from the Hummer, I saw a dozen armed men stand up from behind a low wall across the street. One of the men had a shoulder-carry rocket launcher and he fired before I could yell.
The rocket left a quick vapor trail to the Hummer, then there was an explosion of flame and black smoke and red embers. The Hummer somersaulted into the air and parts from it flew in all directions.
Hondo flew backward through the air and I turned to cover Jett. A red-hot lightning bolt hit the back of my head, and all three of us bounced and skidded and rolled on the pavement, coming to rest near one another.
I lay on my back, but couldn’t move. I str
ained with everything I had and turned my head an inch to the side. My neck creaked. Everything was hazy and blurry. Hondo lay on his side, almost in a fetal position. Blood dripped from his hairline and from a playing card-sized triangle of metal sticking out of his back.
I strained to call his name, but only a faint strangled sound came out. My friend, my friend…
Jett moaned, and her leg moved. She blinked several times, like trying to place where she was.
Beyond her I saw an out of focus Magilla coming at a run, screaming, “Jett! Jett!”
Then I heard machine guns, and terrible red flowers blossomed on Magilla’s shirt and pants.
Magilla came on, desperate to reach Jett. He continued to fire the .44 magnum as he staggered forward into the storm of bullets. Men screamed as Magilla’s bullets found their marks.