The Serpent's Kiss

35

Trotting toward the command center, Frank McMillan sensed something was wrong right away. The Bureau helicopters shifted lower, for one, and he wasn’t oblivious to the fact the news helicopters were staying away from the immediate area. Which meant the Bureau was keeping them out of their airspace. Frank also noticed a lot of movement in the surrounding area. What had before seemed to be a random conglomeration of law enforcement and emergency medical personnel now seemed both more organized and segregated. The Detroit PD and the FBI were on the move, operating separately, but in concert. It was all there for a trained observer to see. Out of the corner of his eye, atop the Scott Building, he noticed a camouflaged figure with a rifle ducking out of sight. The Bureau had put snipers around the area. Something was definitely going on.

Then Frank noticed a man running off to his left. The figure wasn’t clear, but Frank saw he carried a gun and was moving very quickly.

Dropping the duffel, Frank yanked out his Glock, flinging the holster to the ground next to the duffel. “Hey!” he shouted, bringing up his weapon. “You! Don’t move!”

The first bullet struck Frank McMillan on the left side, about four inches left of his navel, along the floating ribs. It spun him around, but McMillan, reacting as he had been trained to do, dropped into a classic Weaver stance, both hands on his gun, and returned fire.

Then all hell broke loose.