Extinction Machine

Chapter Twenty-nine

Camden Court Apartments, Camden and Lombard Streets

Baltimore, Maryland

Sunday, October 20, 7:04 a.m.

They looked like giant insects the way they swarmed out of the stairwells at both ends of the hall. Twelve men in black BDUs with Kevlar body and limb pads, helmet-cams, and full SWAT kit. The whole unit was split into four-man teams, with two men armed with MP5s, a point man carrying a ballistic shield and a Glock .40, and one team leader with a Remington 870 pump shotgun. Despite the speed of their approach they made almost no sound as they converged on the door to apartment. There were more men in the fire towers and in the lobby and out on the street. Two FBI helicopters were in the air.

The raid was being conducted entirely without assistance from local police. The suspect had ties to the police department as well as city government. His brother was a detective, and his father was the mayor.

The point man for the raid was Special Agent Sullivan, a twenty-year veteran with the FBI who had spent the last ten with Hostage Rescue. He was a tough, humorless man, very good at his job and totally unsympathetic to anyone who came into his operational crosshairs. When such a target was a crooked cop and suspected terrorist—well, Sullivan didn’t figure he’d lose a lot of sleep if the bad guy was home and kicked up a fuss.

The teams clustered around the doorway, close but well back from any angle where a round fired from inside could hit them. The walls were brick but the apartment doors were only wood.

A burly agent hustled up with a breeching tool—a heavy weight with a blunt end and sturdy handles. He positioned himself in front of the lock and looked to Sullivan, who finger-counted down from three.

On zero the big man swung the weight and the wood around the lock turned to pickup sticks.

“Go—go—GO!” bellowed Sullivan and the men in the black body armor poured through the door into Joe Ledger’s apartment.