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“Yeah. I may need help once he’s out of the van,” Morgan said.
“You have a plan to get him out of the van?” Flip asked.
She looked over her shoulder and gave him a confident look. “I can get him out of the van. The problem is stopping him once he’s out.”
“What did you have in mind?” Flip asked, narrowing his eyes with skepticism.
She pointed to a 15-foot evergreen across the street in the park adjacent to the van. “If someone was behind that tree, they could catch him off guard.”
Flip’s eyes widened. “You want me to ambush him?”
“You don’t have to shoot him. Yell ‘hands up’ or ‘get down on the ground” or whatever you guys do. I just need you to be ready when he gets out.”
“And you’re going to sweet-talk him out of the van?” His tone was condescending.
Morgan rolled her eyes. “In a manner of speaking. Are you helping or not?”
Flip surveyed the area. “Give me three minutes to get over there.”
Morgan took the Harley cap off her head and handed it to him. “Put this on. You scream cop.”
She watched Flip backtrack down the block in the opposite direction and work his way back up the other side of the street, weaving behind the parked cars. He stopped about twenty feet from the designated evergreen tree, where there was an open area with nothing to hide his approach. He looked at Morgan and shrugged. She held up her finger for him to give her a minute. With Flip approaching from the left side of the van, she had to find a way to get the driver’s attention focused on the right side long enough for Flip to get in position.
She looked on the ground for a rock or something she could throw. Feeling in her coat pockets, she found the apple she had tucked away for later. Making her way to the front of the truck, she stood up and threw it against the right side of the van. As soon as it smashed against the side panel, Flip sprinted toward the tree. She barely made it behind the truck when the driver’s wiry-haired head stuck out of the passenger window, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head. Finding no one near his van, he tucked himself back inside.
Morgan stood up and waved to Flip. She ran out into the street, stopped about fifteen feet from the van, and fired two shots into each back tire and two at the driver’s side mirror, shattering it into pieces.
Within seconds, a giant of a man with a ruddy face and a long beard jumped out of the van with a .9 mm in his hand. His jaw clenched, his eyes searching for the threat.
“On the ground,” shouted Flip, moving in from across the street.
That’s when the plan fell apart. The burly man turned his gun toward Flip and fired. Flip got off one shot, hitting the driver in the chest, then grabbed his side and fell to the ground. The driver stumbled into the van but righted himself, preparing to take another shot. Morgan fired twice, taking the driver to the street. She kicked the assailant’s gun away and rushed to Flip.
“Oh, please, Lord. Let him be okay,” she cried, falling to her knees. She lifted his head in her lap.
“I…I’m okay. K…Kevlar vest,” Flip struggled to speak.
“We’re sitting ducks out here,” Bash said, coming up behind them.
Morgan looked up in surprise.
“Yeah, Riley let me out of the car since the guy was down. I’ll get Flip to the SUV.”
Bash put his arms under Flip’s shoulders and helped him to his feet.
“I’m so sorry, Flip,” Morgan said with remorse.
“N…not your fault,” he said. “Getting him out of the van was a good idea. I just assumed you were going to scream at him. Shooting up his van never crossed my mind. I put you in danger. And I…I underestimated you. I’ll never make that mistake again.”
“Once we get to the van, Riley’s going to pull the driver out of the street,” Bash said.
“Yeah, boss. I’m okay. Probably bruised ribs,” Flip said to Sam over his mic. “I got him in the chest, and it looks like Morgan got him in the leg and hip. He’s not going anywhere. I’ll let you know as soon as we get to the SUV.”
After Riley moved the perp onto the sidewalk, he filled them in on the status with the other team. Two of the Sam’s men dropped the female postal worker at the police station and were on their way with Gia to the airport in Portland. Perez wounded one of the gang members who had followed Sam’s car around the building. He was now secure. When the gunmen went out the back door, the quick-thinking postal workers secured the building from the inside. There was no information on the extent of injuries, but at least the gunmen couldn’t get back in the building. That left two men at large. One was Asa Kline.
“Damn!” Riley said. “Agent Perez’s partner is missing.” He turned toward the back seat. “Flip, do you think you’ll be okay if I go help Sam?”
“We’ll be fine,” Flip said, still holding his side. “If Kline has the female agent, they are going to need more help. I’ve got two more clips, so I’m good.”
