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TWENTY-ONE
Garrison
I peeredout the windows over the vast lawn at the front of the house, scanning the front drive and the little I could see of the road beyond for approaching cars. For the moment, there was no sign of reinforcements coming to the aid of the men we’d taken down here.
It felt strange to be standing in the warmth of the mid-day sun for an operation. Normally we relied on darkness to make stealth easier. But with a mission at a residential home, we’d known we’d findlessresistance during the day, when the owner of this house and any of the regular people who lived here with him would be off at work.
What a sight Gordell was going to come home to.
A smirk tugged at my lips. I glanced down at the foyer below—just as Dess whirled around from where she’d been crouched off to the side to parry a blow from a knife-wielding man who’d managed to sneak up on her.
My pulse stuttered, but I held myself in place. Dess was more than capable of fending off one attacker, even taken by surprise—more capable than I was at physical combat, that was for sure.
But as she grappled with the man, who looked like he must have been regular staff rather than official security from his more casual clothes and wiry frame, another figure emerged into view from beneath the mezzanine, just raising his gun.
Dess hadn’t seen him—she had her back to him, only just managing to smack the knife from her attacker’s hand. It would take no more than a split-second for the gunman to put a bullet in her brain.
I reacted on pure adrenaline—okay, and maybe a little panic. Before I’d even thought about what I was going to do, I leapt over the railing and plummeted down toward the gunman, trusting his bulky body to break my fall.
It wasn’t an enjoyable landing. I slammed into the gunman, and we both went sprawling, a grunt bursting from his lungs. My hip jarred against the floor as I toppled off him. I wrenched around as quickly as I could, grabbing for his weapon, which had slid a few inches from his fingertips.
I wasn’t fast enough. The man snatched up the gun and rammed it into my face so hard pain splintered through my skull. My thoughts felt as if they were rattling around in my brain. I groped for my own gun at my side, and then Dess was there, firing her pistol.
Blood splattered across the floor. The gunman crumpled to the ground. I glanced past him to see Dess’s other attacker lying in a ruddy pool, just as limp.
We didn’t get any time to celebrate. Footsteps thundered from down one of the halls, and Blaze’s voice echoed through the space. “Incoming!”
Two more men burst into the foyer, already firing at us. More shots boomed somewhere farther away, I guessed wherever Blaze had stirred up a hidden nest of hornets. I’d have to remember to thank him later—maybe with a fist to the head.
There wasn’t time for more than a flicker of annoyance. Then there was nothing to think about other than survival. Dess hauled me to my feet and yanked me toward a side hall. “I have to reload,” she said in a strained voice.
We dashed into what appeared to be a dining room. As the men charged after us, we lunged behind the table for cover. Dess shoved a fresh clip into her gun, and I managed to get my own pistol out to join the party.
The men barreled around opposite sides of the table, spewing bullets from their semi-automatic rifles as they came. Motherfuckers. I rolled under the table, kicked a chair into the closer guy’s legs, and fired a couple of shots, managing to catch him in the calf. But as he dropped to his knees, he pulled the trigger again, his bullet smacking into the floor just inches shy of Dess.
I kicked out again, slamming my heel into his hand. His gun dropped from his fingers. I whipped mine around, but he was already tackling me, wrenching at my wrist.
The man tried to twist my arm so he could fire my own gun at me, but I weakened his grasp with a knee to his gut. I couldn’t manage to dislodge his weight, though. No matter how I twisted, he remained on top of me, attempting to wrestle me into submission. I was barely holding him at bay, shaking with all the force he used to press down on me.
If I didn’t do something fast, he’d win. And I would die.
I wasn’t the strongest member of the team in combat, and my real skill sets wouldn’t help me here. That didn’t mean I was going to give up. I couldn’t—not with Dess fighting another man mere feet away. As long as his attention was focused on me, he couldn’t hurt her.
In a moment of adamant rebellion, I shifted my weight to one side quickly and finally threw my attacker off balance just enough that when I shoved back onto my other hip, he all but fell off me. I used the rest of my strength to jerk my arm from his grasp and pull the trigger.
I hit him square in the forehead. As he collapsed in a heap next to me, I resisted the urge to imitate his slumped pose while I caught my breath. Instead, I squirmed out from under the table, intent on protecting Dess any way I could. But I emerged to find Dess poised over the other man, one of her knives protruding from his throat.
She spun around and stared at me on the floor. “Are you okay?” she asked, breathless.
“Just peachy,” I replied, groaning as I pulled myself upright.
She offered her hand to help me stand. “Thank you. The other guard in the foyer—I hadn’t even noticed him. If you hadn’t tackled him…” She shook her head with a tightening of her jaw.
I didn’t like seeing her doubting herself. I offered my best cocky grin in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I’m always here for you, sweetheart.”
It set off a rush of pride in me to realize that Ihadsaved her. If I hadn’t leapt off the mezzanine to tackle that prick, she might not be with me right now. She was standing in front of me like death incarnate, but she’d needed me.
A grin that was probably a little too goofy to be totally appropriate stretched across my face. Dess knuckled my arm, nudging me out of the dining room. “Let’s see if the others need any help. And if the building’s clear now, we need to get the girls out of here.”
