Ryan Lock 04.5: Lock & Load Read Free Page A

made less than a million dollars a year.
       As he rounded the bend just before Big Rock, Lock passed a Malibu Sheriff Department's patrol car. It was empty, a decoy to dissuade commuters from the San Fernando Valley from speeding. The house was up ahead, just past a rack of stop lights. Summer had already provided him with a breakdown of the layout. There were two entrances on either side. They opened onto side decks, which in turn led to glass security doors and finally to doors that opened directly into the house.
       Summer usually used one of the two-door double garages, opening them electronically with a clicker and driving straight in. The garage offered direct access into the ground floor of the house via two doors, one of which opened directly into the kitchen, and another that led into a large open-plan living room.
       Decks wrapped around three sides of the property. The two side decks were little more than walkways. The one on the southern side had steps that led down to the beach. There was a large upstairs deck and a smaller porch-sized deck downstairs.
       Lock had a clicker for the garage but the noise of the door rolling back up would alert anyone inside the house to his arrival. Neither did he want to approach via the two doors which faced PCH.
       He drove past, the house on his left, turned around at the Moonshadows bar and restaurant, and parked the Range Rover a little further down. He got out and walked down to a series of steps which offered public access to the beach. He'd made sure to time his arrival for low tide. He took off his shoes and socks and went for a stroll, his plan being to access the house directly from the beach. Summer had already furnished him with the numbered code for the external glass doors and a set of keys. This way if he came face to face with the tough-guy actor it would be just the two of them.
       It was a beautiful day as he strolled down the sands. A couple of people were out walking their dogs but otherwise the place was quiet. The houses sat on pylons. At high tide the Pacific would run directly under them and the beach would disappear entirely.
       Sunlight shimmered across the water. On the Big Rock itself sat a dozen or so pelicans. On a smaller rocky outcrop a herd of seals caught some rays. Even the wildlife looked super relaxed out here. It wouldn't have surprised him to see them sporting sunglasses. He expected Jason to be less laid back when he found out that Lock was here to evict him.
       Lock took the set of narrow wooden steps leading up to the house two at a time. Like any good intruder who wanted to go unnoticed the key was to look like you belonged there. He pulled himself up and over the gate, landing with a thud on the other side. Two sets of steps stretched up towards the house.
       About one third of the way down them stood Jason. He was wearing red board shorts and black deck shoes. His hair was wet and he had a towel draped over his shoulders. In his hand was a Smith and Wesson Colt 45.
       "You've got two seconds to tell me who the hell you are and why I shouldn't blow your head off," said the actor.

Five
    THE COLT 45  likely had a trigger pull of around six pounds. But it took a whole lot more than six pounds of pressure when there was a real living human being in your sights rather than a paper target at the other end of a firing range. Lock knew that better than most. He had pulled the trigger of a gun more than once. When the situation called for it, he had taken life. There was a better than even chance he would be called upon to do so again over the course of his career.
       Jason had killed too of course; cyborgs, vampires, zombies, extra-terrestrials. Hell, just the other month, millions of people around the world had watched him, kitted out in full tactical gear, jump from a Blackhawk and rush a compound to deliver the fatal shot to Bin Laden. And he'd almost killed Summer.
       Lock waited. Nothing happened. Jason