"Don't I at least get a gun?" Lavetti asked, still stretched out on the ground.

"Know how to use one?" Rev. Jim asked.

"Of course I do," Lavetti exclaimed.

"Then the answer's no," Mrs. Columbo said. "We may be crazy, but we ain't stupid."

"Don't think of yourself as an Apache," Dead-Eye told him. "Think of yourself as a bulletproof vest we don't have to wear."

"It's like havin' my very own shield," Rev. Jim said. He snapped one cuff around Lavetti's wrist, closing the other end on his own. "Wonder how many bullets he takes before I tire of draggin' him around."

"Enough to kill him, I hope," was Mrs. Columbo's answer.

"We ready to do this?" Boomer asked, standing and zipping his jacket.

"No," Dead-Eye said. "But if it means getting out of this heat, I'll give it a shot."

"Dead-Eye and I will walk down the front path like we're invited to a party," Boomer said. "Soon as you can, Rev. Jim, get that Greek fire going across the pond."

"It'll either be flames or me shootin' past that water," Rev. Jim said.

Boomer turned to Mrs. Columbo. "Mary, you get as close as you can and launch those rockets just like we showed you on the plane."

"Don't worry," she said. "If I can drive a wrecking ball down a Manhattan street, I can sure as s.h.i.t shoot a rocket against the side of a house."

"We all meet inside," Boomer said. "First one to Lucia takes home the prize."

"We're all going to be killed," Lavetti said, panic firmly set in. "She's in there waiting. They're all all in there waiting. If you turn back now, I can work something out. Have her back off. It's your only way out." in there waiting. If you turn back now, I can work something out. Have her back off. It's your only way out."

Boomer stepped over to Lavetti and slapped him hard across the face. "As soon as the shooting starts, uncuff yourself from him," Boomer said to Rev. Jim. "He'll be surrounded by his friends."

"See you at the fair." Rev. Jim began dragging Lavetti with him toward the golf pond.

Boomer watched them go, then turned to Mrs. Columbo. He touched her cheek and smiled. "You sure you're gonna be okay?" he asked.

"You worried because I'm the only woman on the team?" Mrs. Columbo asked.

"I'm worried because you're the only woman I care about left alive," Boomer said softly.

"You really know the right time for romance," she answered with a smile. She lifted her launcher and rocket pack and headed off in search of a shooting site.

"That just leaves the two of us," Dead-Eye pointed out.

"You're a smart man." Boomer placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "How the h.e.l.l'd you end up with a guy like me?"

"Born under a dark cloud," Dead-Eye told him. "And there's nothing I can do to change it."

"Let's go make some noise, then." They began to walk down the well-lit path, knowing there were eyes on their every step. They turned a slight curve and saw the house, a quarter of a mile ahead.

"They're not gonna let us get much closer," Boomer said.

"I wouldn't have let us get this far."

"Maybe we got it all wrong," Boomer said. "Maybe they don't want us dead."

"That's what Custer thought. Up until that first arrow."

"WHY ARE YOU waiting?" Lucia asked Wilber, anger in her voice and eyes. waiting?" Lucia asked Wilber, anger in her voice and eyes.

"Can you see them yet?" Wilber asked. "I thought you wanted to see them."

"Enough with your stupid little games, Wilber," Lucia said. "I want to see them dead. dead."

"They are are dead," Wilber said. "They just haven't been told yet." dead," Wilber said. "They just haven't been told yet."

"Well then, have the men let them know," Lucia said. "Now."

Wilber opened the windows to the terrace, stepped outside, and gave the signal.

REV. JIM EASED the nitro ball into the air gun, then placed the front tip of the gun inside the opening of the five-foot plastic tube. He and Lavetti were crouched at the edge of the golf pond, directly across from the rear of the house. the nitro ball into the air gun, then placed the front tip of the gun inside the opening of the five-foot plastic tube. He and Lavetti were crouched at the edge of the golf pond, directly across from the rear of the house.

"You have any idea what you're doing?" Lavetti asked, desperate.

"Not a clue." Rev. Jim moved both hands slowly, dragging Lavetti's cuffed wrist along.

"It won't work," Lavetti said. "I can tell from your face even you you know it won't work." know it won't work."

"You're a very negative guy." Rev. Jim looked him over. "Maybe yoga would help."

MRS. COLUMBO DROPPED the rocket into the launcher pad, her hands, face, and back drenched with sweat. She twisted the base shield to her right and pressed the red b.u.t.ton, turning from the launcher. She waited with eyes shut for a blast that never arrived. the rocket into the launcher pad, her hands, face, and back drenched with sweat. She twisted the base shield to her right and pressed the red b.u.t.ton, turning from the launcher. She waited with eyes shut for a blast that never arrived.

"Dammit, Mary," she muttered to herself. "Don't screw up. Not here. Not now."

She peeked over the lid of the launcher and shook her head.

"What a dope," she said, still mumbling, realizing she had put the rocket in backward.

She struggled to pull it out, turned it around, and then placed it back inside the cylinder.

"Please, G.o.d," she whispered, her eyes closed. "Please make it work."

A STREAM OF STREAM OF bullets rained down on Boomer and Dead-Eye, pelting the path at their feet. bullets rained down on Boomer and Dead-Eye, pelting the path at their feet.

It was the signal they wanted.

Boomer turned right, Dead-Eye left, each with a grenade in hand, tossing them out into the dark night. After six grenades had blown patches of gra.s.s and pieces of men into the air, they each unzipped their jackets and wrapped their hands around the handle of an M-16 machine gun. They stood back to back, pumping bullets in all directions, Boomer leading the way to the house.

They saw the Greek fire before they heard it.

A large ball of flame raced across the rear pond, up onto the back lawn, flush into the house, blowing out windows and walls. Three other blasts followed in quick succession, causing equal amounts of damage.

Mrs. Columbo's missiles found their mark as well.

The first one overshot the main house and blew up the garage. The next two took out five men and half the second floor.

Boomer and Dead-Eye reloaded, kept firing as bullets whistled past. Only one found them, clipping Boomer on his right elbow.

Dead-Eye was running the M-16 like a concert baton, leaving in his wake the moans and thuds of the wounded and dying. Boomer cleared the front of the path, stopping his cascade of bullets long enough only to throw out a few more grenades.

Missiles and nitro blasts lit the sky.

"I guess they know we're here," Boomer shouted.

"Think they're ready to surrender yet?" Dead-Eye asked, spraying two more face down into the gra.s.s.

"When we get inside, we'll ask," Boomer said, lighting a stick of dynamite and tossing it toward the front door.

REV. JIM UNCUFFED Lavetti, picked him up, and started to run with him toward the house. But Lavetti broke free and drew ahead. Lavetti, picked him up, and started to run with him toward the house. But Lavetti broke free and drew ahead.

"Wilber!" Lavetti began to shout. "Don't shoot! It's me! Mark Lavetti. Don't shoot!"

Rev. Jim headed off in the opposite direction, around the left side of the pond, running toward the gaping hole in the first floor caused by one of his fireb.a.l.l.s, using an Uzi submachine gun to further light the way. He turned to take a look at Lavetti, frantically waving his arms and calling out Wilber's name.

"Hope he finds you," Rev. Jim said.

MRS. COLUMBO, FREE FREE of the weight of the rocket launchers and heavy packs, walked quickly down an unguarded rock road and soon found herself by the rear of the house. She smiled as she stepped inside. Wait till Boomer hears about this, she thought. He'll never believe it. of the weight of the rocket launchers and heavy packs, walked quickly down an unguarded rock road and soon found herself by the rear of the house. She smiled as she stepped inside. Wait till Boomer hears about this, she thought. He'll never believe it.

THE DOOR BLEW open and Boomer and Dead-Eye jumped through a circle of fire, guns still spraying bullets in all directions. open and Boomer and Dead-Eye jumped through a circle of fire, guns still spraying bullets in all directions.

"Here's where we split," Boomer said, standing and shooting in the main entry. "I'll take the second floor."

"That leaves the third for me."

"Call if you need me," Boomer shouted, running up the front hall steps.

"Other way around, friend," Dead-Eye said, racing through the kitchen and taking the back staircase.

WILBER G GRAVES MOVED through fire and smoke, stepping over dead bodies, looked out incredulously at Lavetti, standing near the golf pond, shouting his name. through fire and smoke, stepping over dead bodies, looked out incredulously at Lavetti, standing near the golf pond, shouting his name.

Wilber lifted the machine pistol in his hand, aimed it at the corrupt cop, and waited until he was close enough for their eyes to meet.

"Wilber," Lavetti yelled, blinded by smoke and flames. "That you? That you, Wilber?"

"It's me," Wilber said.

He then calmly pumped three bullets into Mark Lavetti's chest.

The first two found flesh and bone.

The third shattered the bottle of nitro Rev. Jim had slipped inside the pocket of Lavetti's black windbreaker.

The explosion sent Wilber flying onto his back and killed anyone on the back gra.s.s who wasn't already dead.

Rev. Jim saw the blast from the second-floor balcony. He shook his head and turned away.

"Some friends you found yourself, Lavetti," he said.

MRS. COLUMBO WALKED along the wall leading to the second-floor den. Gunfire erupted throughout the house and thick plumes of smoke filtered down the halls, tearing her eyes. She had a .38 Special in her right hand, held down against her thigh. There were scattered bodies and debris everywhere. along the wall leading to the second-floor den. Gunfire erupted throughout the house and thick plumes of smoke filtered down the halls, tearing her eyes. She had a .38 Special in her right hand, held down against her thigh. There were scattered bodies and debris everywhere.

She stepped over a black-suited shooter, face down in his own blood, and turned a curved corner, b.u.mping into a tall man with deep lacerations on his face and arms.

"You must be the one they call Mrs. Columbo," Wilber Graves said in a voice revealing his British boarding school education. Graves was born to a life of luxury and had the habits to prove it. But at a young age he had trained his full attention on doing what he liked to do best-kill.

Mrs. Columbo went to lift her gun, but his hand was faster. Graves reached out to hold it in place with a powerful grip. She heard the snap of a switchblade and watched as he moved closer, the fear of the knife stalking her once again, paralyzing her.

She saw the blade come up but could do nothing.

She waited but the knife came no closer. Wilber Graves had noticed her vest, knew the knife in his hand wouldn't penetrate. Mrs. Columbo smiled.

"I'm not making it easy for you, am I?" she said.

"I prefer you didn't," Wilber said, smiling back.

Mrs. Columbo lifted a knee to Wilber's groin and brought the bone of her elbow flush against his nose, breaking it and blinding him with his own blood. He let go of her hand and fell to his knees. She lifted her gun hand and rested the pistol against the top of his head.

"Pull the trigger," Wilber whispered.

Mrs. Columbo made the error every cop dreads.

She hesitated.