by Keta Kendric
Shoving my gun down the back of my pants, I rose. “I have never been nor will I ever be soft.”
Ansel stood watching as I slid from his hood. The dim lighting didn’t hide the fact that a grin was still on his face. “You know, cousin, I was wondering what’s going to happen to you when Megan leaves you for me.”
I shot a deadly glare over at him, but I was sure he caught my shadowy smile. “That will happen over my dead body,” I said with certainty.
“You sound sure of yourself, cousin. I mean, I’ll be torn up over your death, but what I’ll be gaining…” Ansel threw his hands behind his head and stared upwards, being his usual crazy self.
Ansel was joking now, but in a few minutes, he was about to turn into a fucking monster—a rabid-ass dog with razor-sharp teeth that was a motherfucker to control. I walked past my cousin and headed to the back of his truck. Scott and Marcus were back there strapping themselves into equipment. We mostly used the moonlight to prepare ourselves so there was minimal light from our flashlights. The scene reminded me of the way we had prepped for the deadly missions we went on when I was in the military.
The small tin of black camo I’d taken from my cargo pocket made its way around the group as I proceeded to strap my holster around my waist and leg. One of my pistols went into the belt around my waist, and the other went into the holster around my leg. I even had a backup piece strapped to my lower leg at the rim of my boots.
Ansel walked up as I was putting on my Kevlar vest. He watched me with a knowing smile on his face as I inspected my combat knife and sheathed it.
“You brought Tina?” he asked Marcus. The big smile on Marcus’ face insinuated that he had.
Marcus strategically lowered his head where I noticed the tip of a big metal box sticking out from the bottom of the back of Ansel’s truck. Ansel lifted the box and sat it on the tailgate. The box landed with a heavy thud. Dust flew up from the area he sat the box in, causing me to fan flying particles away from my face.
When Ansel opened the box, I smiled. Tina was a damn sniper rifle. The rifle he’d used while he was in the military was named Tammy, which was the same exact model as Tina who was the obvious replacement for Tammy after Ansel had returned to the life of a civilian.
Ansel stood there under the light of the moon putting the weapon together. The distinct sound of metal slipping and sliding into metal grooves and slats was the only sound that coursed through the air. When Ansel slid the receiver back and attached the drum of bullets, I knew he meant business. He’d told me that he and each member of his ranger team were qualified as expert marksmen.
My rifle sat dismantled in my duffle on the back of Ansel’s truck. I hadn’t given it a name, and I’d had it for three years. I was good enough to own a sniper rifle, but I hadn’t immersed myself enough as a rifleman to consider myself a true sniper. I was more of an in-your-face kind of killer.
Ansel placed his mouth to the side of Tina’s pistol grip. “I’m handing you over to Marcus, but don’t worry, baby, Daddy’s coming back.” He kissed the treasured weapon.
Each of us slid our listening devices into our ears so we could communicate with each other. We went through a series of mic checks to ensure everyone had a functioning device. After we went over the plan once more, we were finally ready.
Ansel glanced over at Marcus and Tina. “Take care of my baby, Marcus, because I know she’s going to take care of us.”
Marcus nodded his head before lifting Tina and walking away, allowing the darkness to swallow them.
After D confirmed he’d found a way to somehow blind the cameras, the rest of us prepared to go in. In all black tactical gear, our faces smeared in black camo, and hidden by the darkness of night, we were virtually invisible. Geared up, we were ready for just about anything. We gave each other a once over, not moving anything except our eyes. We’d said all that needed to be said with a glance. We each flipped the night gear over our eyes and the low whirr blended with the sound of chirping insects and animals calling in the distance.
Ansel gladly took point as Scott and I followed. He’d glared at me when I’d suggested he take point. If there was one thing I’d learned over the years was that any effective leader had to know how to follow. Who was I kidding with that canned bullshit? The only reason Ansel was leading me anywhere was because I knew he could.
A flood of memories hit my brain, making a smile inch across my lips because this mission felt eerily familiar to my days in the military. At the edge of the fence-line in the backyard of the property, Ansel’s upward fist stopped us in our tracks. It was funny because we’d been in two different branches of the military, but an upward fist was all it took to not only jerk me out of my memories but to also stop me in my tracks and put me in attack mode.
Ansel called Scott forward. Scott had rigged the fence so that three of the standing wooden boards swung up enough that it would allow us entry and not look tampered with. Scott easily found the boards and lifted them so we could pass through and enter the backyard. Once inside, we low crawled closer to the back of the house and pool area. There was a large light attached to the back of the house that illuminated a portion of the backyard, but not enough to keep us out.
Viewing the yard area on my computer had been misleading. The area was massive. It felt like we’d been crawling towards that house for hours. The low-cut grass cushioned our knees and elbows and gave off a low crinkle that mingled with our accelerated breathing.
By the time we reached the area near the pool where the motion lights should have come on, I swiped at a sheen of sweat that had pooled on my forehead. It was a sign that I wasn’t in as good a shape as I’d once been.
Ansel directed our eyes to the guard as he made his approach from the opposite side of the house from us. He walked uncaringly through the light, unknowingly blinding himself to us. He must have left his area to use the restroom or switch out duty with another guard because we should have encountered him much sooner than now. We’d hidden in a patch of darkness outside the light shining from the back of the house. The man passed only feet away from our boots, as we lay flat on the grass near the pool.
Ansel signed to us that he was going to take out the guard. Scott hadn’t initiated any type of aggression on his earlier recon because any slip up on his part could have started a premature war without us there to back him up. However, this time, we were ready to do whatever was necessary to take out our adversaries and to obtain the information we sought that could eventually help us find our true enemy—DG6.
Ansel moved with the stealth of a black panther creeping up behind the man like a moving shadow. Scott and I remained in place, prone on the ground. First, we heard a muffled groan of agony, then, the distinct thump of a body hitting the ground.
Within seconds, Ansel was back in front of us, gesturing for us to follow him with the guard’s weapon shoved down the back of his pants. Once we made it around the pool, he directed both Scott and me to the east.
Taking out the man on the east side of the house had been quick work for me. He never saw me coming and was permanently asleep before his body hit the ground.
“Target two out. East clear,” I spoke quietly but knew that I was being heard in the tiny mics that were linked with Ansel, Scott, and Marcus.
“Target one down. West clear,” Ansel informed the group.
I hadn’t heard Scott traveling behind me nor had I heard him pass me, but less than ten seconds later I heard, “Target three out. Front clear,” Scott confirmed. He’d taken out the man inside the small brick guard shack so he could take control of it.
“Outside perimeter clear,” Marcus added. His voice was broadcasted with a scratchy quality to it since he was the furthest away from the rest of us.
“Enter at will,” Ansel commanded.
I was set to enter through a side window, Ansel was going straight through the front door, and Scott was our eyes out front. He’d taken up a position inside the guard shack near the northwest
front of the house. Marcus and Tina were out laying in the darkness watching from the front northeast.
After I used a glasscutter to make two fist-size holes in the window, I stuck my hand through the first hole to cut the alarm feed before reaching into the second hole to unlock the window.
Ansel must have taken the keys from the downed guard because I watched him from my dark corner inside the house as he unlocked the door and walked in like he owned the place. He’d taken out the light over the front door, but the larger light, like the one in the backyard, kept watch over most of the front yard. D and Scott hadn’t been unable to cut those specific front and back lights. They must have been wired and controlled from within the house somewhere. The alarm hadn’t sounded. Apparently, Ansel had deactivated that as well.
The sleeping mercenary on the couch had no idea that we’d gained access and the house was no longer safe. The rest of the crew must have been asleep as well. Ansel glanced in my direction, knowing from our plan where I should have been. The guard on the couch started to stir, turning his body towards Ansel who stood right above him.
Ansel lifted his arm up high and stiffened his hand into a knife-hand, which came crashing down on the back of the man’s neck. A loud fleshy crack sounded and was followed up by a deflated huff from the man. From my angle, it appeared Ansel had chopped through the man’s neck with his hand, but I knew he’d hit the switch on his neck that would knock him out.
With the temporary threat taken out, we split up and swept the house, seeking out mercenaries and looking for information that would lead us to DG6. The clap of weapons firing echoed in my ear, alerting me that one or more of our team members was engaged in a gunfight. With the earpiece in my ear, it was hard to tell if the sound came from the inside or outside of the house.
I tiptoed up the stairs, a mixture of moonlight and the outside front light illuminating my path. There was a dim light in the hallway I crept closer to, but I didn’t hear any sounds. Just as most of my body cleared the stairs and I leaned forward to peek down the hall, a bullet sailed past my head and lodged into the wall on the side of me. The bastard or bastards on that wing had been waiting for me. We’d been careful up until this point and had followed our plan emphatically. What had alerted them that we were even in the house?
After running up the last few steps, I dived across the hall, landing in a small nook that kept more incoming bullets from piercing my body. My scuffling to dodge bullets had left me without control of my body as I came out of my rolling dive and collided into the wall. In my ears, my crashing body sounded like thunder had boomed inside the house.
I pushed myself up to a standing position, making my body hug and kiss the wall as bullets tunneled their way through wood and plaster next to me. The nook I’d heaved my body into contained a door that I found locked. From studying the feed and blueprints that D had gotten us access to, this should have been the maintenance closet. D and Scott’s information meant I knew the areas of this hall like the back of my hand. The indentured entryway I stood in was the only thing keeping a bullet out of my body.
The mercenary actively shooting at me was using a silencer on his weapon. His actions and my body slamming into the wall had likely awakened the others in the remaining two bedrooms on the corridor. My ear was alive with the sounds of constant weapons’ blasts. Each location had a distinct echo, indicating that more than one from our team was engaged in a shootout.
A quick peek around the edge of the wood showed me a glimpse of the shooter standing behind the cracked bedroom door with his gun sticking out of it. I also caught a glimpse of the dim hallway light that I needed to kill.
It hadn’t even taken a minute before one set of bullets had turned into two sets. The angry slugs ate at the edge of the wood protecting me. When the bullets stop flying for a second, I chanced a quick peek, reached my hand around the corner and released a few shots from my own silenced pistol.
My first shot took out the hallway light and left the hall in shadows of bouncing light. I dropped my night vision goggles over my eyes and flipped them on. The only sound at this point was harsh breathing and bullets thumping and pounding into wood. As soon as I was rewarded with a second paused moment, I peeked around the splintered wood and fired off three quick shots.
A loud cry and the unmistakable sound of a body colliding into a wall let me know I’d hit one of the mercenaries. I waited until the barrage of retaliating bullets that came at me slowed. When the bullets paused again, and I heard the familiar clinks that indicated that at least one was reloading his weapon. I took the opportunity to sneak another peek around the corner.
After taking a good aim at one of the cracked doors, I fired. The kick of the pistol in my hand was followed by a loud yell. “Fuck! I’m hit.” It was another of the assassins yelling from one of the rooms further down the hall.
“Yes, at least three maybe four. Hurry!” The man spoke urgently into a device. I couldn’t see that bastard, but I heard him. I flipped the night gear to thermal imaging and caught a glimpse of two heat signatures. Incoming bullets sent me back and kept me pinned against the wall I was hiding behind. I tried to look around the bend of the wall again and nearly got my head blown off as the whirl of hot lead flew past me.
I spoke in as clear a voice as I could and alerted the team. “They are calling for backup. Grab a hostage and abort mission.”
The punch of un-silenced shots going off in another part of the house alerted me that Ansel had his hands as full as mine were.
“Scott, get in here,” Ansel demanded in a strained voice. It sounded like he’d been injured.
When I felt the coldness of a chill inching up my spine, I instinctively turned and fired at one of the men creeping up the stairs. The bullet landed in his skull and slung him over the side railing of the staircase. His body smacked into the ceramic tiled floor below.
I needed to get out of this damn nook because this mission was blown. These motherfuckers hadn’t all been asleep like we’d assumed or they may have had some other form of alerts or monitors that we’d missed. We’d taken down four upon entry. There were two down on my wing and the one I’d shot on the stairs. Ansel was handling some on his end, and we had no idea how close their backup was.
Since bullets had stopped flying in my direction, I took three deep breaths and walked out of the nook I’d been pinned in. Relying solely on my body armor for protection, I prayed the enemy wouldn’t get off a headshot on me.
My first three shots went flying towards the first cracked door my eyes landed on. I didn’t have to wait around to know that I’d put a bullet into the person waiting there. A portion of his body prone on the floor behind the half-open door was visible. I dropped my empty clip and fed my pistol a new one before I fired rapid shots at both doors further down the hall.
Since the doors were across the hall from each other, I swiveled my body, shooting back and forth between them. The fact that no bullets were flying back at me meant that any occupants were either dead or had fled further into the room.
I sent two shots into the door behind me and kicked in the door in front of me. The room appeared empty, which meant that the occupant of the room had fled out the window or had been someplace else inside the house.
The splayed body behind the last door on the hall belonged to the one who had called for backup. After a quick check, I saw that he’d been speaking into his cell phone. I didn’t know if the backup group was five or thirty minutes out. I left the hall and ran back down the stairs.
Chapter Sixteen
Aaron
A limping mercenary captured my attention as soon as I’d cleared the bottom of the stairs. I aimed, prepared to blow the man’s head off his shoulders, but he held his hands up high.
“I’m unarmed,” he grumbled. His annoyance at being captured was evident in his angry tone. Good. This meant he could be the hostage we needed to get information out of. Our main goal was to find out the location or locations of DG6’s bosses.
We needed to find the person or persons in charge of running the organization. They were who had the authority to take the hit off Megan’s head.
These guys were just the bastards who’d agreed to work for DG6. I landed a quick strike to the back of the unarmed man’s head and propped his limp body up against the wall. I tugged the plastic tails of each of the set of zip ties I’d applied around his hands and feet to bound them. Anyone from our team who saw him sitting against the wall in this manner would know he was not to be killed.
A popping noise called my attention towards the dark hallway of the first-floor wing. Pulling my night goggles down over my eyes, I crept into the darkness with my gun ready. Our four-man team should have been heading back to our base of operation by now, but the silence in my ear lurked there like a spying person.
There was no way in hell I was leaving without my cousin. I’d called into my mic twice for Ansel with no return answer. He was either dead or actively engaged. A quick sweep showed me that my cousin had taken out the two on the first-floor wing already. The popping noise I’d heard was the electric currents that still flowed through the plugged-in flat-screen television my cousin had used as a weapon to take out one of the mercenaries. So, where the hell was he? Where was Ansel?
Like he’d heard my thoughts, his voice buzzed into my ear. “We’ve got company. Retreat!”
Immediately afterwards, he announced, “Two SUV’s with a team of about ten. Heavily armed and wearing Kevlar.” Ansel’s words were followed by a steady and violently loud flow of gunfire.
The approaching team of mercenaries had likely been warned about how heavily equipped we were, so they had arrived better prepared to handle us. As I heard the screech of tires out front, a blast erupted, rocking the place on its foundation. Dust and debris rained down on me as I ran back towards the living room. Were they shooting grenades at us?
