“Screw this!”  Ingmar rose and fired.  His shot connected, and the police officer vanished like she had never been there.  There was still one sitting behind the wheel of the van, but Ingmar trained his gun on him, and he surrendered.
“We’re sorry about this,” Hassan said.  “We’ve got to stop this guy while we still can.  I hope we can talk it out later.”  They drove the van up to the gates and climbed over.  The house looked like something out of a Hollywood movie.  A sweeping balcony that faced the drive.  Underwood stood waiting for them atop it.