“Where’s your service weapon?” he whispered, screwing the suppressor into place.
“In my hand.”
“You’re with me. On my six.”
Dressed only in underwear, Nathan and Holly advanced down the hallway into the den, where vertical blinds covered the sliding glass doors. Standing off to the side, he cracked the slats just enough to see out. He activated his NV scope and scanned the yard.
Nothing. No movement at all.
He backed away from the blinds, returned to the hall, and stood perfectly still-listening. He inhaled deeply through his nose. No smell of anyone or anything. No faint cigarette odor, or cologne, or leather. Nothing.
He put his lips to her ear. “Stay close, I’m going to check the house.”
Knowing that any security system could be beaten-even his own-he conducted fast-moving reconnaissance, looking in every place big enough to conceal an intruder. In the living room, he picked up their clothes from the floor and tossed them into the coat closet.
The house was clear.
A second red light on the panel indicated a front yard motion detector had also been tripped. From the den, he checked the rear yard again. There. Two dark figures. In tactical SWAT-type gear. Moving toward the patio. In the green image of the night vision scope, he saw they carried suppressed Heckler amp; Koch MP5s.
He approached the keypad by the door and turned it off. If possible, he wanted to take one or more of them alive.
They hurried back to the bedroom.
Moving fast, he slipped into a pair of jeans, grabbed T-shirts for himself and Holly, and led her back through the house into the kitchen.
He handed Holly a shirt and put his on. “We’ll hide in here,” Nathan whispered, and pulled the cabinet doors open. Where there should have been pots and pans, a wide-open space loomed.
“In there?”
“Yes.”
Precious seconds were wasting, he didn’t have time to explain. Once they were both inside, Nathan pulled the cabinet doors closed. Holly ended up sitting with her back to one end of the cabinet with Nathan opposite her in the same position. They were enveloped in near blackness. The only source of light came through tiny holes on the cabinet veneer facing the living room.
“Nathan, what’s going on?” she whispered.
He closed his eyes and concentrated. He was forgetting something, something critical. What was it? Come on, damn it. What am I forgetting? Come on.
Holly’s purse. On the kitchen counter above them.
He opened the cabinet door, retrieved the purse, and placed it between his legs.
Low on his left, he turned the knob of a dimmer switch, adjusting it to the lowest setting before pressing the knob to activate a series of night lights plugged into wall outlets.
The tiny points of light in the cabinet face brightened.
“Peepholes,” he whispered.
Chapter 18
He had to keep Holly calm. Yes, she was a special agent in charge of a major FBI field office, but this situation could rattle even the most battle-hardened soldier. If she made a tactical mistake, they were both dead.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” he whispered. “These cabinet walls are armored with ballistic vest material. We need to stay absolutely quiet. Pretend nobody’s home. We’re just part of the furniture. Inhale deeply. Exhale slowly.”
“How can you be so calm?” she whispered back.
“No one’s home. This is an empty house. Inhale deeply, exhale slowly.”
He heard her take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m okay.”
They both heard it, a sudden crash of glass.
“They’re inside. Absolute silence from now on.” He gave her hand a squeeze and pressed his eye to a hole.
Like demons from a nightmare, four dark figures rushed into the living room.
In the ambient light, Nathan watched the laser dots sweep through the room. He hoped they were mercenaries, not federal agents. If they were feds, or U.S. military, they’d have a much harder battle on their hands. One thing was certain, he’d never allow Holly or himself to be taken prisoner. One way or the other, this fight was to the death.
Intruders one, three, and four advanced down the hallway toward the bedrooms, moving with precision and silence. Number two stayed put and crouched down.
Number two looked directly at the cabinet where they were hiding.
He gave Holly’s hand another squeeze. After several seconds, Number two looked in the other direction and froze again. Seeing nothing, Number two moved to the base of the cabinet and ended up inches from Holly’s face.
He watched a red laser beam flash three times on the dining room wall. Number two painted his laser at the same spot and gave three flashes in return, predetermined signals to avoid being blown away by friendly fire. One, three, and four emerged from the dark hallway. Two joined them for a whispered consultation. Good. They weren’t feds. Feds would have used hand signals to implement one of several backup plans.
Trying to take them now, while they were all together, wouldn’t work because of their ballistic vests. If he didn’t score four head shots, it would be over. Be patient. Wait for a better opportunity.
One, three, and four disappeared down the hall again.
Number two advanced toward their position. When he lost sight of the gunman, he aimed his Sig at the cabinet’s door. A rustle of clothing announced two’s pivot around the corner. Nathan imagined the mercenary taking in the empty kitchen.
Go on. Leave. Nobody home.
It didn’t happen.
Through a peephole in the cabinet’s door, Nathan watched the merc crouch beside the base cabinet on the opposite side of the kitchen and begin opening doors.
They had less than twenty seconds.
He studied the man’s movements and watched a pattern emerge. At each cabinet, the gunman pulled the door open while pointing his gun into the space, then closed the door. Pull. Point. Close.
His enemy was halfway through the kitchen now.
Ten seconds.
Pull. Point. Close.
Nathan took slow, deep breaths. All tension gone. Them or us. Definitely them.
Three seconds.
One cabinet remaining ahead of theirs.
Pull. Point. Close.
The vertical crack of light between their hiding place and the outside world expanded.
Like a slow-motion python, the black silencer of an MP5 eased toward his face.
Nathan shoved the cabinet door, knocking the man onto his haunches.
He centered his laser on two’s throat and pulled the trigger.
The man jerked twice and lay still. The subsonic round wasn’t completely silent and knocking the intruder down also caused noise. It was a good bet this man’s friends heard the disturbance.
He sprang out, pulling Holly with him. “Stay behind me,” he whispered.
The next thirty seconds stretched into a nightmarish melee of violence.
One, three, and four eased down the hall, hugging the wall.
Nathan flashed his own laser three times, hoping to lure them into the open.
It worked.
Three and four entered the living room in a crouch. Visible in the dust and smoke, their lasers swept back and forth in quick motions. Using the bulletproof cabinet for cover, Nathan painted his beam on the bridge of number three’s nose and squeezed off a shot. The man spun and crumpled to the floor.
Two down, two to go.
Thirteen shots remaining.
Surprising Nathan with his speed, number four emptied an entire magazine in the general direction of the shot that killed his partner. He yanked Holly down with half a second to spare.
Even suppressed, the staccato sound of the high-speed discharge ripped the air. Splinters flew. Dishes shattered. Glass flew from shelves. Pot and pans jumped and clanged. The microwave, range, and dishwasher exploded, showering Nathan and Holly with glass fragments. The countertop erupted, sending shards of granite in every direction.