to their house not only to inform

Greatly distressed, Dalton managed to roll his head side to side and produce an anguished mewling. Thinking Dalton might be worried about his wife and daughter, Hazard revealed that he had just sent a pair of uniformed officers to their house not only to inform Rachel that her husband had been found alive but also to give her and Emily protection until Laputa could be located and arrested. In a hiss-and-hack voice, Dalton said, “Coming back with,” and winced in pain as his throat seized up. [574] “Don’t stress yourself,” Hazard advised. “You’re pretty fragile right now.” At the end of the block, the shrieking ambulance turned the corner. The rainy night licked away and swallowed the last shrill note of the siren as the brakes barked on the blacktop in front of the house. “Bringing back ... a boy,” Dalton said. “A boy?” Hazard asked. “You mean Laputa?” Dalton managed a nod. “He told you?” Another nod. “Said he was bringing a boy back here tonight?” “Yes.” As he heard the paramedics thundering up the steps, Hazard leaned closer to the withered man and said, “What boy?”   Crouching among mimulus and Mauna Loa spaths and ferns, Ethan heard a second burst of fire, three or four shots, from a weapon fitted with a sound suppressor, and after half a minute of silence, a third burst. None of these rounds seemed to come near him. The gunman must have lost track of him. Or maybe the guy had never known where Ethan was, had fired blindly through the jungle, and had come close with the first spray of bullets solely by chance. Gunman—singular. Guy—one. Common sense argued that an assault against this estate required teamwork, that one man couldn’t jump the wall, deceive the electronic security measures, disable the guards, and breach the house. That was Bruce Willis on the big screen. That was Tom Cruise in makeup. That was Channing Manheim playing a role from the dark side. That wasn’t anyone real.