sprinted back into the house, locked the door, then turned right and ran to the corner window. He opened it and fired four shots at the east-side hut, then put five rounds through the front door. The pistol’s slide locked open. He dropped it, ran back upstairs. Brian was on his feet and steadying himself against the desk.
“I’m good. Bleeding’s slowing down. You got a plan?”
“Yep.” Dominic scooped up the CD-ROM from the floor, shoved it into his backpack, then leaned across the desk and jerked the flash drive from the tower’s USB port. “The porch is right below us. Once they make their move, you’re going out the window. Lay flat on the roof. When you hear things start in here, get to the ground and go for the barn. If you feel up to it, go for the car. I’ll meet you along the way. Gimme your gun.”
“Dom—”
“Shut up and give me your gun. Can you handle your pack?” Brian nodded. Dominic handed it to him. “You’re looking green, bro. Sure you’re okay to move?”
“We have a choice?”
“No.”
“Watch the window, give me the play-by-play.”
“Got it.”
Dominic laid both Brownings on the desk, looked around the room. He grabbed Almasi’s desk chair and shoved it toward the door, then did the same with a nearby side table. He bulldozed them through the door, down the hall, then tipped them down the stairs. They tumbled to the bottom and landed in a heap.
“How’re we doing?” he called.
“Nothing yet—wait. Got a body coming out, circling west. He’s got the AK.”
Dominic went into the first guest bedroom and grabbed a nightstand, a floor lamp, and a chair, all of which he shoved down the stairs.
“What the hell are you doin’, Dom?”
“Homemade barricade.”
He repeated the process with the next guest bedroom, then returned to the office. He grabbed his backpack and slipped it on, then grabbed up the Brownings and removed the noise suppressors, then shoved them into his belt.
At the window, Brian said, “You go, cowboy. The other three just came out. . . . Two heading for the porch, another around the front. First one’s coming around the east side now. Hey, I found a surprise in the closet.” He pointed to the corner, where a shotgun was leaning. “Twelve-gauge Mossberg 835. Six rounds loaded.”
Dominic stepped to Brian and gently opened the window. He helped Brian out and held on until he was splayed across the shingles. Dominic said, “I’m going to wait until they’re all in the house. I’ll yell for more ammo. You hear that, you go. How long will you need?”
“Two minutes.”
“I’ll be right behind you. We can’t have them on our tails.”
Dominic closed the window, turned around, snatched up the shotgun, and headed into the hall. From the west-side sitting room came the sound of breaking glass. Down in the foyer, something pounded into the door. Then again, then a third time. The doorjamb cracked, bulged inward. Dominic pumped the shotgun and dropped to his belly and eased the shotgun’s barrel an inch through the banister uprights. In the sitting room he heard a chair leg squelch on wood. A head peeked around the corner, pulled back, then returned. Dominic froze. He held his breath. Nothing to see here, asshole. The pounding on the door became louder, more insistent. The man in the sitting room took one last peek around the corner, then sidestepped, his AK up and tracking along the balcony. He sidestepped one of the toppled nightstands, then went back to the door. He took his left hand off the AK, reached for the doorknob.
Dominic adjusted the shotgun, laid the front site over the man’s chest, and fired. The man staggered backward and slammed into the door and slumped down. Footsteps pounded across the porch and faded away. A few moments later came the sound of breaking glass. One down, three left, Dominic thought. A thought popped into his head. He got up, ran back to the office, and opened the window. He handed one of the Brownings to Brian. “In case they decide to climb.” He closed the window and returned to the hall.
Downstairs, nothing was moving. A full minute passed, then somewhere to Dominic’s right he heard a whispered voice. To the left a hand appeared around the corner and tossed something up the stairs. Grenade, Dominic thought even as it bounced onto the balcony. The shape told him it wasn’t a frag but a flash-bang. They didn’t want to risk killing Almasi. Too