CHAPTER 12

On the way down, Matt called CJ and filled her in on what was going on. He knew she wouldn't be too thrilled with him being involved in the raid.

"Here we go again. Please be careful, Matt. Maybe I should record that – I seem to be saying it every day."

"Yes dear." Matt used a hen-pecked voice and managed to get a laugh out of her. "Love you."

"Love you, hon. Keep your powder dry – and don't forget to duck."

"Quack. 'Bye." He hung up as he opened the door on his truck and pulled out his holster and pistol. After checking the magazine, he grabbed four more from the console and then took his bulletproof vest out of the back seat, sliding it over his head before strapping on the holster. When he was finished, he locked up the truck and headed across the garage to meet up with Cranston and his team. As it turned out, they were being joined by Brad Langston and his SWAT team. He and Matt shook hands.

"Well you're certainly making the rounds this week. I heard you were in on that little water-way traffic stop with the Coasties yesterday." Langston grinned as he checked the magazine of the AR-15 that he was carrying.

"Yeah, needed a little change of scenery." Matt grinned.

"Need a ride?" Langston motioned to the same truck that had been used previously when the warrant was served on Yearly's house.

"Sure." Matt climbed into the back and sat opposite the lieutenant as his phone rang. He dug down inside his shirt pocket in his vest and pulled it out, checking the caller ID. "Hey Hoyt, what's up? Who me? Oh, just hanging out with some friends in the back of a SWAT truck, why do you ask?" He rolled his eyes and made a face at Langston who chuckled. "Yeah, but that was yesterday." Matt laughed. The truck started moving. "Tell you what; I'll drop the DVD's by there on my way home. And quit scratching. You too bud. 'Bye." He hung up the phone, turned off the ringer and stuffed it back into the pocket of his shirt. "Poor guy is itching something fierce."

Langston nodded. "I don't doubt it."

It wasn't long before they were nearing the target and Langston gave the members of the team last-minute reminders. When the truck stopped, Matt and the team jumped out of the back. Langston and three of the other officers hit the front door at a run, followed by Matt, Jenkins, and Anderson while the other five members of the team hit the back door. When Langston shouted out "POLICE! HANDS IN THE AIR!" all hell started to break loose.

There was more going on in the strip club than dancing and drinking. Three men that had been standing at the far end of the bar took off running toward the back of the club only to have their paths blocked by the other members of the team. While one immediately threw up his hands in the air and surrendered, two of them ran into a dressing room, causing a chorus of screams to be heard as the dancers were scared witless. The girls ran out into the main room.

Matt had identified two of the men: Yearly and his accomplice from the firebombing. When they took off toward the back, he was hot on their heels and ran into the dressing room a couple of seconds after they did. As soon as he came through the door, the private investigator hit the floor; Yearly had produced an AK-47 and began showering the walls with bullets. Rolling towards his left, Matt knocked one of the dressing tables over and took cover behind it, knowing all the while that the bullets could come through the wood. He was joined by Langston a second later.

When Matt heard the banana clip from the rifle hit the floor, he jumped up and moved toward Yearly, only to be fired at by the accomplice who was armed with a Mac-11 9mm semiautomatic pistol. Diving to his left as he fired, Matt managed to hit the accomplice with a shot to the leg, just below the knee. The man let out a scream as he went down.

Yearly had popped in another magazine and the private investigator was wondering how many the drug dealer had; the other had at been at least fifty rounds. Taking a quick look around the room, Matt noticed the similarity between the walls and a wheel of Swiss cheese. As he stood up behind the corner of the wall that he had made it to he could see Langston as he took a quick peek over the table top. Yearly fired in that split second and Matt could see a spurt of blood from the SWAT leader hit the wall behind him. He chanced a quick look around the corner. The accomplice appeared to be passed out and it was no wonder: there was blood flowing freely from the wound that Matt had given him. "Yearly, your buddy is gonna die if we don't get him some help quick. He's bleeding out." He could hear movement around the corner and then whispering and knew that Yearly was checking on the accomplice. Glancing back over toward Langston, Matt saw the lieutenant holding something in his hand, then it was tossed at Matt who caught the grenade with his left hand. It was a 519 CS Handtoss Grenade. CS – tear gas. Oh, great. Having served in Army Special Forces, the private investigator was familiar with its capabilities as well as what he could expect from being so close to it. He quickly holstered his pistol, pulled a bandana out of his back pocket and tied it over his nose and mouth, knowing that it wouldn't completely protect him from the tear gas, but it would help a little bit.

Drawing his pistol once again and placing it in his left hand the private eye took the grenade in his right. "Yearly, drop it and come on out, man, it's over. This is your last chance." Matt glanced back toward the door and saw two of the other SWAT members who nodded at him and indicated that they would pull the lieutenant out after Matt threw the grenade. He nodded back. "You've got until the count of three. Then all hell is gonna break loose."

Yearly's response was laced with colorful assessments of Houston's lineage. "Okay, have it your way." Taking a deep breath, he nodded at the SWAT team and then pulled the pin on the grenade, easing around the edge of the wall and firing a couple of shots for cover as he tossed the tear gas at Yearly's position in the room. The following seconds felt like slow motion to Matt. There was a small explosion which emitted a few flames, then the cloud of tear gas boiled up from the floor. While use of the grenades wasn't recommended indoors, the flames could be knocked down quickly after the suspect was apprehended. Matt could hear Yearly begin to cough. Moving away from his cover, he slid along the wall until he could see the drug dealer: his hands were flailing in the air and his finger was still on the trigger of the AK-47. Matt lunged, executing a flying tackle and knocked the man to the floor, hitting him on the back of the head with the Glock that was now in his right hand. He grabbed him by the back of his jeans and drug him toward the fire exit at the back of the room. Yearly was out cold. Matt quickly looked back in the door as two SWAT members grabbed Yearly's accomplice and drug him out into the alley way where Matt was holding the door for them. Two others pulled the lieutenant out of the dressing room and out into the bar area. Spying a fire extinguisher, the private eye quickly put out the flames from the canister that had blazed up when coming in contact with several pieces of clothing.

After stepping back out into the alley where the SWAT team now had both men cuffed and were applying pressure to the leg wound of the injured drug dealer, Matt pulled the bandana off and took a deep breath of fresh air. He looked at the two officers and grinned. "Good thing this was a strip club – that fire didn't have much material to work with." All three broke into laughter as an ambulance pulled up to haul the prisoners to the hospital.

Matt walked back around the building to find Langston being hauled out to a waiting ambulance. "How you doing?"

"Oh, I'll be okay." He pointed to the upper part of his left arm. "Might have a little chunk missing though."

"You take care." Matt shook his hand and watched as the paramedics loaded the lieutenant.

"You know Hoyt said you were a pretty good baseball player," Langston hollered back out at Matt.

"Yeah, even played pro once." He gave the cop a thumbs up and walked over to Lee Jenkins who was talking to two members of the SWAT team. "Where in the hell did you disappear to? You missed all the fun."

"Show off." Jenkins grinned at him. "Don't suppose you want to do the paperwork do you?"

"Hell no; what do you think I am – a cop?" Matt went back over to the SWAT truck and loaded up with the rest of the team for the ride back. He pulled out his cell phone and saw the screen had been badly cracked. "Oops. Well, there's another one gone." One of the other men handed his phone over and Matt thanked him as he punched in the number for his office. "Hey, Babe – just thought I'd let you know it's all over. I'm okay and we got Yearly and his helper." He listened for a minute. "And would you activate another phone for me? Mine just bit the dust." Matt looked at the man who had lent him the phone and grinned. "Yep, guilty as charged. See you in a little bit. Love you. 'Bye." He disconnected the call and thanked the officer.

On the way home that night, CJ and Matt stopped by Michael Hoyt's house to drop off a couple of DVD's on deer hunting that Matt had gotten for his friend. Hoyt wouldn't let him leave until he gave a complete accounting of everything that had happened in the case from start to end. While the men were talking shop, CJ and Anne were drinking tea in the kitchen and eavesdropping on the two. "Just like a couple of kids." Anne laughed.

"You've got that right." CJ took another sip of tea as Matt steered the conversation toward the hunting trip and then finally told Hoyt that he needed to get home – or else Catey and Cricket were going to miss out on their nightly ride and that he would be in trouble.