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He readied his rifle next. “No windows in here. Concrete walls. You’re going to stay put with the door locked and light off, okay? I’ve got to go out there and help them. I’ll block the door, but if someone makes it inside, you shoot first, ask questions later.” He brought his hand to his ear. “Unless it’s me, of course. Don’t shoot me.” He surprised me with a wink, then took off toward the door.
Doing my best not to shake so I could better butterfly-hold the pistol, I brought my back to the wall by the chair.
“Inside still clear?” Carter asked someone over comms. “Send Dallas down here, then.” He unlocked and opened the door, and a handful of seconds later, Dallas, wearing his helmet, came flying into the room. “Guard,” he commanded, and Dallas obediently rushed to my side.
Carter sent me one last look, then reminded me, “Lock up after. Lights off.”
“Oh-okay.” I wanted to run to him, but I stayed in place, the bullets pelting the exterior of the building fading into the background. “Be safe. Please.”
The lights died a moment later, and Dallas howled in alarm. “They breached,” he let me know. “I’ll be back for you, I promise.”
The moment I heard the door latch shut, I pulled myself together, hurried over and locked it. No need to kill the lights, they were already out for the building. “Dallas, where are you?” I searched around in the dark.
He came up next to me and guided me over to a wall. I set my back flat to it, weapon in one hand, resting my other hand on the top of his helmet.
The walls had to be thick—thick enough Carter must’ve felt I was safe from a stray bullet, or he’d never have left me—but I could still hear the distinct sounds of fighting and gunfire.
Dallas let go of a little distressed moan, worried for his dad.
Yeah, I’m worried about your dad, too.
I counted the seconds that passed. Then tried to keep track of the minutes. He’d said it’d take time for backup to arrive, and that was assuming that woman and her men would offer assistance.
My nerves stretched thinner and thinner as I listened for Carter outside the room. No one had broken in, which meant he had to still be okay. That was what I had to keep telling myself, at least.
How’d anyone find us if not because of Alyona, though?
The whys and hows right now didn’t matter as long as Carter and his teammates survived the ambush.
At the door handle rattling, my shoulders jerked back in anticipation of what was to come. My vision had adjusted to the dark, but just barely without any form of light filtering in.
Dallas shifted positions when the door stopped shaking, only for an abrupt blast to blow the door off its hinges.
On instinct, I dropped to the ground, pulling Dallas against me to protect him and shield our faces.
Working through what happened, I realized we were okay. But if someone made it in here, is Carter hurt?
Coughing on smoke, and fanning my face, I looked up to see two shadows looming in the doorframe, a spear of light coming from somewhere, maybe a fallen flashlight out in the hall, just behind the men.
Not even a full two seconds later, a third shadow appeared, tackling both men.
Carter. Dallas left my side, joining his dad.
Brute force took the place of gunfire as Carter railed on the men. Grunts and exchanges of blows I could barely make out echoed in the room.
Even with my vision adjusted to the dark and that little stream of light, there wasn’t enough for me to see and not accidentally shoot Carter or Dallas. I sat there, feeling helpless.
Dallas was growling, chewing on one of the assailants’ ankles, shaking his head rapidly as the man yelled in pain or anger.
Carter appeared to have one of the men trapped between his legs, and he was twisting his arm back, forcing him to drop his pistol. A low, guttural sound left the other guy’s mouth, and there was a distinct snap. Arm broken?
I turned my attention to see the man Dallas was biting, reaching for something at his side. Assuming he had a gun he planned to use against Dallas, I shifted the weight of my body over to change my angle to my target. This way, when I shot, if the bullet went clean through, it wouldn’t hit a second target, like Carter or Dallas.
Doing my best in the heat of the moment, and using the optic, I pointed the red dot on the target and pulled the trigger.
Impact. Well, I think. Before I had a chance to take a second shot, because the target was somehow still upright, Carter beat me to it. A flash of movement and struggling from the bad guy, and Carter took him down permanently. A knife?
Dallas howled, signaling to something or someone, and Carter dislodged what I assumed was the knife he’d just used to kill the guy I’d shot. All in the space of seconds, he was back on his feet. The moment a third man entered the doorway, Carter took him out as well.
