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“Raketa.”
She studied him for a moment and then turned to Gunner. “My sources tell me that Petrov is not far behind his would-be captors.”
“Do they have an idea how many he’s bringing with him?” Razor asked.
Again, Raketa looked at Gunner. “Three or four they believe.”
“What’s their ETA?” Gunner asked.
“Not more than thirty minutes.”
Which likely meant the Armenians would be here in half that time. There were four men who would have to be taken out immediately upon the others’ arrival with Ava. Her three captors would be next, followed by the two who were inside with the girls. All of this needed to happen without the four hostages being harmed in any way.
At the same time, those in sniping position had to remain at the ready in anticipation of Petrov’s arrival.
“Bring Dutch back.”
Gunner nodded and radioed the operative.
“Do they have night vision?”
“Negative,” answered Gunner.
That didn’t surprise Razor, although he was certain Petrov and his team would.
Gunner radioed the update on Petrov to the three remaining snipers, and then had a conversation with Raketa that Razor couldn’t hear.
“What’s happening?” Razor asked when Raketa went back into the woods.
“We both agree we can use one more sniper. She’s good, Raze.”
Good, if she was on their side. Bad, if she wasn’t.
The next fifteen minutes dragged on while Razor went over the entry plan again and again in his head. If the snipers failed to take down any of the four, it would be up to him, Gunner, and Dutch to do so.
“You and Dutch take first entry,” Razor said, changing his mind about being on the outside rather than in.
“Roger that,” both of the men responded.
“Go!” he heard Gunner yell at the same time he heard the sniper fire.
Razor heard four shots. Each hit their mark, killing the men standing guard on the outside of the house. Two more shots followed almost simultaneously when Gunner and Dutch stormed through the door.
What Razor didn’t expect was to hear three more shots. Where the fuck was Ava? Had one of the snipers shot too soon? Razor raced around the makeshift structure where the other girls were being held, and stopped dead in his tracks.
There, only a couple of feet in front of him, stood the love of his life with her own father pointing a gun at her head. Four others had their guns leveled directly at him.
“Hold your fire!” he shouted.
Neither Petrov nor his men were wearing night optical devices, or NODs. Given his slight advantage, Razor slowly inched closer to Petrov.
His eyes met Ava’s. They were opened wide and tears ran down her cheeks.
“Another minute and we would’ve been gone,” Petrov taunted. “Now the choice is yours. We can leave with my daughter and no one gets hurt, or she dies.”
“Dad! What—” she gasped.
“Silence!” he barked, tightening his grip on her middle and shoving the gun harder into her temple.
