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had sent Sean sprawling to the floor below the bench seat. Another shot sounded from somewhere else as a bullet thudded into the wood above his head. One of the guards must have started firing.

On his elbows and knees, Sean scurried across the carpet to the end of the row. Leading with his gun, he peeked around the corner of the bench and saw that the larger guard was holding Tommy while the shorter held his weapon at the ready, looking to the end of the pew where he’d just fired.

Across the aisle, Joe and Allyson were crouched in a similar position. Sean gave a quick motion of the hand for his companions to give some cover fire.

Allyson acknowledged the request and surprised the two suits with a volley of her own, careful not to hit the hostages.  Her rounds narrowly missed the stocky attacker.

Joe was a good shot with long-range weapons as evidenced by his success as a big game hunter. But smaller weapons were a whole different animal, and bullets wildly splashed around the feet of the three men on the stage, a few pinging off the metal of the pipes behind them.

Allyson gave him a stern look as she pulled him back below the pew.  “Why don’t you let me handle this?”

“Probably a good idea.”

Ulrich and the guard both turned their attention to where the new shots had originated.

“I see you brought some friends, Mr. Wyatt.” Ulrich launched another bullet toward their position.

As poor as Joe’s aim was, the distraction was exactly what Sean had needed. Both enemies appeared confused as to where to concentrate their aim.

Sean rounded the corner of the pew again, kneeling as he squeezed off three quick bursts of his own. One bullet harmlessly lodged into his target’s Kevlar vest, another completely missed, but the third found its way into the thick upper thigh.

Suddenly in pain and bleeding, the henchman dropped to the ground, momentarily letting his gun drop at his side.

From his position, Ulrich couldn’t see anyone, so he sent four shots in both directions, pinning Allyson and Sean under the cover of the church benches.  The pungent smell of gunpowder lingered with the smoke that was beginning to fill the air.

The shorter guard was still on one knee and trying to stand as blood oozed from the wound in his leg. He lifted his weapon slowly, hoping to return fire if Wyatt popped out again.

Instead of poking around the edge of the seat, Sean slid underneath it and took a quick aim, only pulling the trigger once.

The guard noticed Wyatt’s new position too late.  For a second, the stump of a man had a surprised look on his face. His eyes stared forward, blankly. Then the black hole in his forehead began trickling red liquid down his nose seconds before he fell forward and down the steps.

Ulrich’s head turned toward the dead body of his associate as it rolled to a stop at the base of the stage. He pointed the barrel at where the mortal shot had come from and unleashed another quick succession of rounds.

The larger guard who had previously been occupied with Tommy was forced to join the fray. With an almost superhuman strength, the bulky man seized Tommy with one hand and fired his weapon with the other. His .45-caliber resonated louder than everyone else’s, thundering explosions off the walls as he fired.

With one bad guy down, the fight was a little more even, but the hostages still made things dicey. “Just let the men go, Jurgenson or whoever you are!” Sean yelled from behind the church pew. “It’s over! The police are on their way here right now!  And you don’t have many more bullets left in that gun.”

“I don’t believe you would call the police, Sean. Besides, you are the one they are looking for.” As he answered, his eyes checked out two closed doors with an exit sign over them about twenty feet away. The guard looked over and noticed Ulrich had motioned with his head to follow out the exit.

The big man nodded his silent acknowledgement and popped off two quick shots at both Allyson’s and Sean’s hiding places. Then immediately, he dragged Tommy by the neck across the stage and down the steps, right behind the tall blond.

“What do we do?” Joe mouthed across the aisle.

“I don’t know,” Sean replied. “I can’t get a clean shot.”

Allyson shook her head. She had no angle either.

Suddenly, a muffled shot came from somewhere else in the building. It sounded like the front corner of the sanctuary.

Sean risked a look over top of the pew he’d been hiding behind and saw the empty stage. His stomach turned at the realization.

Rising up from his cover, he scanned the corners and crevices of the church, keeping his gun leveled. They were gone.

Allyson stood too, mimicking Sean’s position. “Where did they go?”

Through the ghostlike smoke, Sean noticed the doors at the front of the sanctuary.

They sprinted toward the exit, stopping short to risk a peek in a small square window at the top of the thick wood. Through the opening, Wyatt could see a small antechamber on the other side. There was a short bench, a water fountain, a flowery-upholstered couch, and two legs with black shoes sticking out from around a corner.

Sean pushed open the door, leading the way with his gun. He rounded the corner of the small room and found the sexton lying on the floor. The chest of the man’s white button-up shirt was beginning to soak with blood. Just beyond where he lay, the short hall ended abruptly with two more doors leading outside into the parking lot.

Joe took a knee next to Sean, who was crouching over the old man. Allyson ran over to the outer doors, holding her weapon next to her face while she peeked out the window.

“You…must not…let them find

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