Read Seal Team Seven #19: Field of Fire for Free Online Page B

man, who Lam decided must be more than eighty, slowly shook his head and reached under the counter. He brought up a revolver but held it with the muzzle pointing down at the floor.
    “Guess it’s time you boys left,” the clerk said.
    Woodward shrugged. “What the hell, maybe so.” He started to turn away, then spun back, his fist shot out and hit the store man on the side of the head and dumped him sideways behind the counter. The gun went flying from his hand. Woodward rushed behind the counter and scooped up the gun, then stared down at the old man.
    “I should stomp you good, you dried up old bastard,” Woodward said. “Pulling a piece on me that way.”
    “Let’s ride,” Cooley said. “You put him down, Wood-ward. Don’t mess him any more.”
    “Bastard,” Woodward said, looking down at the old man still on the floor. “I should stomp some sense into him.” Woodward kicked the old man in the side and he yelped in pain.
    “Come on, Woodward, leave him, let’s get the hell out of here,” Cooley said.
    “Hell no. He owes me. Pulled a piece on me. I don’t take shit like that off an old cocksucker like this one.” He kicked the old man in the ribs and Lam could hear thebones breaking. Then Woodward kicked him again and once more.
    “I’m out of here,” Cooley said.
    Woodward looked up. “Yeah, okay. Wonder what’s in the damn money till?” He pushed a button on the old-fashioned cash register and it popped open. “Oh, damn, some bills.” Woodward scooped them up and grinned.
    Lam jolted for the door, ran to his bike, and kicked up the stand. He pushed the Harley down the slight hill, jumped on board, and started the engine. Then he raced down the road. What the hell had he got himself into? That Woodward guy hurt the old man bad, could have put him in the hospital if one of those broken ribs punctured a lung. What the hell was he thinking riding with three guys he didn’t even know? He raced away and heard some shouts behind him. Oh, damn. Now the three of them were going to come after him. He wasn’t one of them, and he witnessed an attack that could be called attempted murder and robbery. Damn, he had to ride fast and get away from them.
    Now Lam could hear the snarl of the heavy bikes behind him on the twisting road. They were gaining. How could he get away from them? The big trouble was all three of them were better bike riders than he was. He had to think of something fast or he would have a tough fight on his hands. Or maybe they would just run him off the road and hope that he died in the crash. He looked back and saw the three bike headlights boring through the darkness. What the hell was he going to do?

4
    Lam swept around a sharp curve, gunned the engine, and barely kept on the two-lane roadway. He slashed through the next corner and could hear the engines of the three bikes growling behind him. He looked frantically for a house, a store-anywhere there were people. A California highway patrolman would do just fine. No such luck. No houses, not even any cars coming past. Ahead to the left he saw what looked like a narrow dirt lane slanting off the blacktop. He slowed. Yes, it might work. He turned off and saw a clump of trees ahead in the darkness.
    There was a good chance. He killed his engine, killed his lights, and coasted down the slight incline thirty yards into the trees, then pushed the bike deeper into the dark shadows until he was sure no one on the road could see him. Yes, he had a chance. Lam felt his heart pounding in his chest. His blood pressure must be off the scale. Then he heard the wail and whine as the three motorcycles came around the last curve and down the straightaway. He saw the lights; three of them glaring into the night like some strange, vicious, three-eyed beast.
    Before he realized it, the three bikes had passed the trail and growled on down the highway heading toward Descanso. He had no idea how far away the small settlement was. His move might just