Second Baddest

35.

With optimal attention to detail Drysdale and I sit in the Expedition and conduct the visual inventory. Anystreet USA, cheap tract housing from a long gone boom, every other house exactly the same, save color, landscaping and car parked in the driveway. We are two houses down from the address extracted from the spectacularly successful interrogation. We need to ID the place as the holding site, beyond any reasonable doubt should we decide to smash and grab.

I point to the porch where a man has come from the house to sit in a rocking chair. He is wearing a windbreaker, odd considering it is a very warm evening. Drysdale juts his chin in the director of a aluminum covered pole structure popular for RV and boat storage.

"Our friend on the porch is on watch and that jacket is keeping his piece from plain view, and I'll lay two to one that under that canvas cover is an ambulance, or a cheap copy of one." I volunteer as a summation of evidence. "I'll distract the guard and get him to move north, you take a closer look at what is under wraps," I advise, "And if they panic and open fire, that is the only circumstance we will engage."

As I am starting to add a few more qualifiers to the rules of engagement when his cell phone vibrates.

"Copy that, thank you, terrific work." Drysdale looks over at me with a solemn visage indicating that the game may have suddenly changed. I hope changed for the better.

"Community Gen and TOM found a positive blood match on the two samples." He says.

"Tell me its somebody on the FBI watch list."

"Saunders."

"Let's roll."

We exit the SUV and I start up the street north and opposite the target house, keeping a steady gait. Drysdale moves south to cross the street and double-back once the diversion is underway. I can feel the sentry's eyes on me as I walk, a good start as I want to draw his attention and lead him along the  rectangular porch. The further we go the cleaner Drysdale's path and the longer we'll have to make a positive ID.

I decide that the distance is sufficient for me to cross the street and as I do so I glance at the porch as if looking for oncoming traffic. He has me in his sights at the furthest point of the porch. I verbalize a soft, "Go" in my com unit advising Drysdale of the status should he not have the visual.

"It is an ambulance, identical to the type you stopped earlier. I can't get inside but there is a lot of blood in the driveway and leading into the house." He reports.

"Can you see the door?"

"Yes"

"I going to tranq the guard and storm the front door in one minute, when you hear shots fired move in through the back door and secure Saunders. Hopefully well meet somewhere in the middle with all perps down except the guy on the porch who is now going out in thirty seconds."

"Copy that sir."

"Drysdale."

"Yes sir?"

"Take a deep breath. On the exhale you will become the baddest son-of-a-bitch God ever put on this fucking rock."

"Second badest, sir, and honored to be so."