The motel manager covered his head and cried for help.
Hector shoved a needle into the frenetic man’s arm. The sleep and memory agent would cause a short-term headache, but the manager’s recollection of the incident would be gone. His body went limp.
“We need to get out of this room! Let’s move!” said Hector.
Jack peeked out of the open front door. “He’s got a pulse gun on a nonlethal setting.”
“He wants us alive. What’s his position?”
“I’m not sure. The roof–”
Jack leaned too far out. A blast of energy caught his shoulder and tossed him back into the room like a rag doll. He crumpled to the floor. All the muscles on his left side went limp. Hector grabbed Jack and pulled him out of their attacker’s line of sight. Then, he slung their equipment over his left shoulder and helped Jack up off the floor with his free arm. Supporting most of Jack’s weight and carrying all their equipment, Hector wouldn’t be able to fight. But, the motel room was a death trap. They had to get out. “We have to get to the car. Can you make it?”
Jack managed a weak nod.
There was no back door. To get out, they would have to slip through their assailant’s range of fire. The parking lot was located on the other side of the motel manager’s office. Not far, but their route was exposed for fifty feet with no cover. Their attacker would have three or four clear shots. Hector half-dragged, half-steered Jack to the door jam, and then sifted through their duffle bags and pulled out a grenade.
“You ready?”
He counted to three, and then tossed the grenade out the door. Pausing only a second, he dragged Jack out into the courtyard after it.
