Both hands slick with blood, she pried the pistol from her damaged left hand and fired at the thin wall between the two rooms. The remaining several bullets in the gun formed a tight pattern on the wall, three feet above the floor, and two feet back from the doorway arch. If Josif had opted to hunch near the wall and wait for her to charge forward, he would have taken those bullets in the head or groin, depending on his choice of stance.
She tossed the weapon back and dragged Miljan's corpse into the foyer with her good hand. She could safely use the foyer wall as cover, since the dishwasher in the kitchen on the other side of the wall provided an additional layer of solid material. She turned Miljan over, looking for spare pistol magazines. Blood continued to pump out of his neck, connecting with the red tide expanding from the bullet riddled body slumped against the closet door.
Melendez chambered another round and started to center the scope's crosshairs on the man who appeared in the bedroom doorway, but he disappeared from sight before he began to remove any slack from the trigger. He had planned to target the guy with the knife next, but could tell from the scope's wide field of vision that Jessica had already turned that side of the room into a slaughterhouse. Several gunshots shattered the momentary calm, and he used the scope to scan the living area for more targets. Covered with blood, Jessica pulled one of the bodies behind the kitchen wall.
He heard loud voices down on the street and rushed forward to investigate. He watched as five men sprinted into the building, followed by a single gunshot from below. Fuck, she was about to have more company, and he didn't have any way to communicate with her. He got behind the rifle and found Jessica through the scope.
She had just finished reloading a pistol, holding the weapon upside down between her knees. He could see that her left hand was a mess and wondered how she would chamber a round. Amazingly, she flipped the pistol between her knees with her good hand and pulled back the slide while keeping the weapon anchored between her legs. The pistol was up and aimed around the corner in a flash.
He aimed the rifle back toward the window and looked for any shot that might have a chance of reaching the man he had seen in the bedroom doorway. He knew Jessica wouldn't back down from the situation and feared the worst. There could be more than one more attacker in the bedroom, and she wouldn't stand a chance bursting through the doorway. Even if she survived, she'd soon be up against five more men, unable to quickly reload her pistol.
The bedroom's windows were covered by thick shades that gave him nothing. He decided that he would fire blindly through the windows until she breached the doorway. It might distract whoever was left in the bedroom long enough for her to get the job done. If she survived, he might be able to keep the new arrivals pinned down long enough for Munoz to finish the job.
He took his hand off the rifle and jabbed at the radio, putting it to his ear. "Munoz?"
"Just hit the street. Tell me she's still alive."
"Miraculously, but five men just hauled ass into the building. You're about twenty seconds behind them. There's one more confirmed target in the apartment, but I don't have a shot."
"Do what you can until I get there," Munoz said.
"Understood," he said and focused on the scope.
Jessica was tensed, and he could tell she was about to make a move. He placed the crosshairs in the center of one of the bedroom sliders and fired. He saw Jessica sprint toward the bedroom before she could have possibly heard the rifle shot. Melendez chambered another round and fired hastily into the ceiling to floor bedroom window farthest from the wall that separated the two rooms. It was up to Jessica at this point.
Goran Brujic ran up the stairs with his pistol drawn. He knew they would all be physically spent by the time they arrived on the eleventh floor, but he didn't plan to take any chances with an elevator. He had no idea what had gone down in the apartment, but he was pretty sure that several rapid gunshots was not part of Josif's plan. He had no intention to step out of the elevator into an ambush. They would catch their breath at the top of the stairs and move cautiously from there.
He reached the door and kneeled beside it. Most of his team slid into place behind him with their pistols drawn while they waited for Jovan to move his oversized carcass up the stairs. The man was at least a half a floor behind them and carried a shortened pump action shotgun. As Jovan slammed into the concrete stairwell wall, out of breath, Goran opened the door slowly, peering into the elevator foyer. He didn't see anything out of place and decided to move into the lobby with his gun aimed forward. A man and woman turned the corner and gasped at the sight of five armed men in the lobby. Goran pulled a counterfeit Buenos Aires police badge out of his back pocket and flashed it at the couple, signaling for them to go back to their apartment. The man tried to speak, but Goran put his finger to his lips and shook his head. Whether they believed the five Caucasian men were police officers didn't matter. Goran heard a door slam and knew they wouldn't be a problem.
He peeked down the hallway leading to the Petroviches’ apartment and found it clear. Whatever had happened was confined to the apartment. He told the men to hurry and ran down the hall to the door. He pulled out one of several key cards that had been made for his team by the doorman this morning and waited for everyone to fall into place around the door. Once Jovan's sweaty, heavily breathing body settled in, he inserted the card and removed it quickly. The light turned green, and he opened the door quietly, sliding into the room with the gun aimed forward.
He edged down the foyer hallway, amazed by the amount of blood covering the floor. He saw two bodies, which he immediately recognized. Something had gone terribly wrong in here. He suddenly heard a desperate scream from deeper inside the apartment. He kept still, listening and scanning for clues. The scream was followed by sobbing and repeated begging, which ended in what sounded like a slap. He took a few more steps forward and froze. The sliding glass door in the middle of the living room lie shattered in pieces on the shiny marble floor and concrete balcony. Sniper? He wasn't going to take any chances. He glanced around for a few seconds, seeing an opportunity that would buy him some time.
Melendez tried not to pay attention to what was happening in the bedroom. Jessica had plunged through the doorway opening and opened the shades less than a minute later. Behind the curtains, he saw the man in white coveralls strapped into some unusual contraption on the floor next to the bed. He watched, slightly confused, as she adjusted a camera that had been knocked down by their scuffle. What she did next made him uncomfortable and he was relieved to turn his attention back to the foyer. He loaded a new magazine into his rifle and settled in to wait.
He heard a primal scream and expended considerable restraint from looking into the bedroom. He needed to focus on the impending arrival of the remaining attackers. A few seconds later, he saw light reflect off the marble floor in the dark recess of the foyer. Someone had opened the door, and he knew for a fact it wasn't Munoz. Munoz had followed the Serbians up the stairwell, trailing them by five floors, careful not to alert them to his presence. He had just checked in with Melendez from the stairwell.
From this angle, he couldn't see more than a quarter of the way into the foyer, so he placed the crosshairs at the furthest point along the foyer floor and waited. A foot slowly appeared, followed by another, as his next target moved cautiously down the hallway. He sighted in on the man's left knee and started to settle in for a shot. The man had stopped, which made his job easier. He started to apply pressure to the trigger, when the man suddenly bolted out of the foyer. His crosshairs found the man standing in front of an intact window, and suddenly, the view was obscured by a dark brown curtain. The curtain continued rapidly across the entire front of the living area, stopping a few feet from the wall separating the two rooms. Since he couldn't shoot effectively, he grabbed the radio. Everything relied on Munoz.