Page 82 of Crosshairs
Lincoln pulled over and we all jumped out of the Tahoe. No one needed to tell us to take cover immediately. Based on some of Darnell Nash’s previous shots, there was no question he could hit one of us from across this hectic construction zone.
Trilling held the AR-15, which had a short scope on it. Hechecked the magazine and made sure the rifle was charged. On either side of Trilling, Lincoln and I crouched behind a mound of construction debris. A broken plastic pipe stuck me in the ribs.
Lincoln said, “I’m afraid we’re trapped here until more help arrives. I wouldn’t recommend trying to move from the safety of this cover.”
Trilling was looking through the scope at the far side of the construction site. He said, “I see him at the base of the pylon on the left side of the site. It doesn’t look like any of the construction workers have even noticed him.”
Lincoln asked, “What’s he doing? He should be trying to get away.”
“Just standing there. I think he’s seen the Tahoe and he’s looking for us on the site.”
I said, “He knows we’re not going to take a shot at him for just standing there. We can’t say the same thing. We can’t just sit here. He may decide to shoot one of the construction workers instead.”
Trilling, still looking through the scope of the rifle, said, “I’m open to ideas.”
I said, “Good, because I have a plan.”
CHAPTER 104
ROBERT LINCOLN, Rob Trilling, and I crowded together behind construction debris. I peeked around the edge of the pile and across the site. The site had workers spread out as well as working in groups. Not an ideal situation.
I said, “I’ll cut around to our right and try to stay out of Nash’s sight all the way across the construction zone. You should be able to see me most of the way. When I get to the far side, I’ll see how hard it’ll be to charge him.”
Once I started explaining my plan out loud, I realized it had some serious flaws. The biggest one was the risk that I might be shot in the head.
Lincoln said, “You won’t even make it that far. That’s exactly what he’s waiting for us to do.”
“I don’t see any other choice. I’m concerned that he’s going to get agitated in a minute and just shoot a construction worker.”
Lincoln said, “I’m going to make a fake run to the left. I’ll draw his attention. That’s when you go.” Before I could even respond, he sprang to his feet and started jogging toward the left side of the site.
I was seriously reassessing the FBI ASAC. My initial impression that Lincoln was an administrative geek could not have been more wrong. This guy had balls the size of Trenton.
Trilling scrambled back to his position where he could see Nash. He looked through the scope for a second, then called out, “Nash has got his rifle up! Take cover. Take cover.”
Lincoln reacted quickly. He ducked down and jumped to his left. Just as he landed behind a heavy concrete block, I heard the report of Nash’s rifle. My head snapped to the left, and I could see dirt and dust kicked up by the bullet just a few inches from where Lincoln was crouching.
That was my signal. I sprang up and started racing to my right with my body bent in half, trying to keep whatever I could between me and Nash.
I saw some of the construction workers on the east side of the site start to panic. Lincoln was on the run again and shouting for the workers to take cover.
I followed suit and started yelling the same thing on my west side of the construction site. Most of the workers just stared at me as I scurried past with my head low. They hadn’t heard the rifle shot over the sound of the heavy machinery.
Nash fired again. I wasn’t sure where the bullet was aimed. But the construction workers on my side of the site heard it this time. They all scrambled, desperate to find cover.
I sprinted onto an original stretch of sidewalk that skirted this half of the giant lot, giving up some cover for speed. When I wasabout a third of the way around the construction site, I saw a woman lying on the sidewalk behind some kind of metal container, holding a toddler in her arms. I slid in next to her like a base runner trying to beat a play at home plate.
She was crying as she held a little girl close to her chest.
My badge was hanging around my neck, so she realized I was a cop. I asked, “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head. Her black hair flew in every direction as a gust of wind hit our position.
I said, “You’ll be safe here. Just stay right in this position. I’ve got to run to the far end of the site.”
As I tucked my legs under me to get a running start, the young woman reached out and grabbed my arm. “Please don’t leave us alone.” Her voice was shaky.
I gently moved her hand. “Trust me. You stay right here and this will all be over in a couple of minutes.”