At the sound of the shot, Rhade's reflexes took over and he dove to the ground. As he fell, a bullet passed so close to his head that he felt a breeze as it passed. He hit the ground, rolled, then did a belly crawl seeking shelter behind a jumble of wooden boxes. It wasn't cover, but it was concealment. Hopefully it would buy him enough time to get a clear picture of what he was up against and to call for help. The wind shifted slightly, and he detected the odor of cordite. Cordite meant his assailants were using conventional weaponry and not gauss weapons. Both types of weapons were equally deadly, but a gauss weapon didn't produce a location-revealing muzzle flash.

Keying the transmitter of his two-way, Rhade spoke into the microphone. "Any available personnel, this is Rhade. This is a code red. Repeat, code red. I am in the market district. Officer down. Parker and I are under fire by persons unknown and require assistance. This is a code red. Repeat, code red. Rhade out." He placed his two-way back in its place and drew his sidearm. His force lance was now good only as a melee weapon. He had used the last of its effectors months ago.

Rhade heard a man's voice call out. "Did you get him?"

. Another voice replied, "I don't think so."

"Damn," swore the first man. "Spread out. We got one of them. There's five of us and only two of them. Shepherd, West, stick with me. We'll go after the sheriff. Pettis, Barlow, the two of you go after the other one. He's somewhere over there."

It was a good news, bad news, worse news situation, Rhade surmised. The good news was that the odds weren't five to one. They also didn't seem to appreciate how well their voices carried in the quiet of the night. The bad news was that the odds were five to two. The worse news was that Parker didn't have a two-way, so they wouldn't be able to coordinate their movements. Running was out of the question. If he ran, it would give the Association an even bigger victory than if they killed him. He was going to have to stay and fight.

There was no telling when or if help was going to arrive. If he and Parker were going to survive the night they were going to have to go on the offensive. He had one probable advantage over his attackers. His night sight was better than the majority of non-modified humans. Unless the ambushers were wearing night vision or thermal imaging devices, he would be able to see them better than they could see him. It was time for a distraction. If he was lucky, Parker would make use of it to take some offensive action. At worst, it would give the boy an opportunity to escape and get help.

There was a table flipped over onto its side in the stall adjacent to the one he was in. That would provide some concealment even if it wasn't sturdy enough to stop a bullet. Checking to ensure the safety selector on his pistol was set to 'off,' he knocked over some of the crates knowing it would attract his attackers' attention. Then, coming to a half crouch, he fired a pair of shots at one of the dimly seen figures as he ran for the shelter of the table. Several bullets whizzed by him but none struck home as he covered the last few feet in a headlong dive.

With the ambushers' attention drawn toward Rhade, Parker made his move. He stood up from a stall on the other side of the aisle, fired several shots at the attackers, then ducked down behind a pair of barrels. One of his targets gave a cry of pain and staggered backwards. His opponents' response was quick and ferocious. All of them turned toward the area Parker had fired from and unleashed a hail of bullets. Then, one of them threw something into the stall Parker had been hiding in. An instant later, there was an explosion and pieces of barrel came whistling by like shrapnel.

It was Rhade's turn to take advantage of the ambushers' distraction. He fired several shots at the bomb thrower, then ducked down behind his cover, not waiting to see if he had hit his target. He hoped Parker was unhurt. If the lad remembered what he had been taught, he would have changed position as soon as he finished firing. With luck, he had moved far enough away to have a chance of escaping the worst of the explosion.

"Shit," said one of the attackers. It sounded to Rhade like the one who had said he had missed his shot at him. "They got Pettis, and West is hurt. What do we do now?"

"What we came to do," said the man Rhade assumed was the leader of his assailants.

"What about the other one?" asked another voice. The first two voices had sounded angry; this one sounded worried.

"Forget about him," answered the leader brusquely. "He's dead; nobody could have survived that explosion. It's Rhade we're after. West, you gonna make it?"

"I'll live," came the reply.

Rhade risked a look, poking his head past the edge of the table. He didn't see anyone right away. The remaining attackers must have spread out and taken cover. His suspicion was confirmed when he was fired on an instant later from two different directions. The bullets made an ugly sound as they impacted the table and an even uglier one as they passed through it. Rhade was struck by several splinters of wood, but none of the bullets hit him.

The accuracy of the shots answered his question about his attackers being equipped with night vision devices. They were, which raised another interesting question he would need to investigate provided he survived the night. How did his attackers get the devices? They were so expensive that even the company police only had a handful of them. However, the gunshots also revealed the locations of the shooters. Rhade fired several shots toward the location of one of the shooters, spreading the shots around to compensate for the fact that his target had probably moved from his original location.

Rhade crouched behind the table again as another fusillade of shots came his way. There were fewer shots this time. He hoped the reduction in fire meant that one or more of his opponents was hors de combat, and not that they were simply moving to a better firing position. But even with a reduced number of shots being aimed at him, his cover was being shot to pieces. Sooner or later a lucky shot would find him. He ejected the used magazine from his pistol and inserted a fresh one. It was time to move again, but where?

Rhade's decision was made for him when he peered over the table looking for a new firing position and saw one of his attackers stand up with his arm back ready to throw something. Rhade fired as quickly as he could pull the trigger. The gunman fell before he could throw his bomb. A moment later, there was another explosion. This time it was body parts rather than parts of a barrel that flew through the air.

A lone gunman broke from his cover and began running away from Rhade. Rhade took careful aim. He wanted one of the ambushers alive for questioning. But before he could fire, someone stepped out from the shadows and swung what looked very much like an extended force lance at the gunman's head. Rhade heard the sound of the staff hitting the man's head as the man fell to the ground.

"That's the last of them," the figure called out to Rhade. It was Parker.

"I see the reports of your death were exaggerated," said Rhade as he walked up to Parker.

"It's amazing how fast you can move when you have the proper incentive," said Parker as he bent down over his victim. Apparently he could speak in more than one syllable when he was given time to get a word in edgewise.

Even in the dim light Rhade could tell that Parker was bleeding from the nose and one of his ears. His clothes were ripped in several places as well. "Looks like you were still a bit on the slow side," he said.

"A bit," agreed Parker ruefully. He was holding what Rhade recognized to be a pair of night vision goggles. "He was wearing these. I thought you might find them interesting. Look on the left side."

Rhade took the proffered goggles and examined them. Stamped into their left side was a Seefra Iron and Fuel property code.

Parker looked down at the body lying at his feet. The man's neck was twisted at a totally unnatural angle. "Damn, I just wanted to knock him out. I could swear I've seen this guy before—sometime before I joined up with you. He look familiar to you?"

Rhade took a closer look at the body. He had seen the man before. The last time he had seen him, he was in a Black and Tan uniform and Rhade had just shot him in the arm.

"I know him," said Rhade. "He's a Tan."

"You sure?" asked Parker, incredulity in his voice. "'Cause I think I recognized the voice of the guy who was in charge of this little ambush. He sounded like Will Jenkins."

"Jenkins?" said Rhade. It was his turn to be incredulous. "We have him listed as a suspected member of the Association. What would one of Burma's men be doing with the Association."

"Only one way to find out for sure if it's Jenkins," said Parker. "Let's go take a look at him."

"You go ahead," said Rhade. "I'll check on Kinney. And be careful. I don't want to have to explain to your wife how you got killed by someone you thought was dead."

The two men started out, but before Rhade could reach his fallen comrade his two-way crackled to life. "Any available personnel, this is Dennic. I'm at the sheriff's house. We're under attack. We need help immediately. This is a code red. The sheriff's house is under attack."

Rhade grabbed the two -way, but before he could key the microphone to respond to the request for help, another voice came over the two-way. It was Doyle. "Any available personnel. The Oasis is under attack."

A/N-1 Many thanks to my Beta reader L. M. Avalon for her assistance with this story. She is turning me into a decent writer despite myself

A/N - 2 Ok, time for me to take a break from this story. Just think of this as the mid season finale. I will get back to it, but in the mean time I request you visit my Beta readers site and read some of her work. Don't let the fact that her posts are listed as anime put you off. She is very very good. If you enjoy urban fantasy I also recommend JRush. Her Dresden files stories are nearly as good as Mr Butcher's. But until then

To Be Continued