was a bullshit proposal, man.” Gunner turned his attention back to the screens, punched a few keys before leaning closer. “Shit.”
“What?” Fuse looked over Gunner’s shoulder.
“Right there.”
Fuse looked to where Gunner pointed. “Two men on the other side of the fence line behind the barn.”
Picking up his phone, Fuse called Mitch. “Gunner spotted two tangos.” He finished describing their location. “Yeah, they’re still there. Copy that.” Sliding the phone into his pocket, he grabbed his Sig 9mm, checking the Ka-bar knife in the scabbard at his ankle. “Gunner, you’re on Brit.”
“Roger.”
Fuse opened the door as he slipped on his comm unit, stepping outside to the pop…pop…pop of gunfire.
Chapter Fifteen
Adjusting his earpiece, Fuse bent at the waist, running toward the location where they’d spotted the intruders. They’d counted two, though he expected more.
“Mitch. Position?”
“At the fence. They aren’t here. Bas, what’s your position?”
“Outside the fence. Tire tracks on an old farm road, but no sign of intruders.”
Gunfire sounded again, closer to the house. “Shit.” Fuse’s voice blasted through the comm unit as he broke into a run. “Gunner.”
“On it, Fuse.” Meaning he had Brit with him and was moving her to the safe room.
“I’m with them, Fuse.”
“Roger that, Fargo.”
A new round of rat-tat-tat from semi-automatic gunfire drew their attention to the other side of the barn. “Dammit! I’ve been hit,” Banner bit out over the comms.
“Mitch. Can you get to Banner?” Fuse mentioned the one man with medic experience. Confusion rolled through him. “Does anyone have eyes on the tangos?”
Bas was the first to answer. “One took off to the east. I’m following.”
“Negative, Bas. Move to the house. This may be a diversion to draw us away from their target.”
“Roger that,” Bas responded.
Fuse pulled out his phone, tapping Wrath’s number. “We’re under attack. No count on number of tangos. Banner is down. Requesting backup.” He ran from one form of cover to another on his way back to the house.
“Roger. On our way. ETA twenty minutes.”
“We need you here now, Prez.”
“Iggy and Boomer have an ETA of five.”
“Roger that. Out.” Fuse thumbed the mic again. “Mitch. Status on Banner.”
“Through and through in his thigh.”
“Are you clear where you are?” Fuse asked, bursting through the doors of his study.
“For now,” Mitch replied.
“Backup on the way.” Holstering his Sig, he punched in a number on a paneled section of the wall, slipping into a bulletproof vest as he waited. It opened, displaying several rifles, handguns, and shotguns. Selecting an M4 rifle, he stuffed two frag and one smoke grenade into the vest.
He turned at the sound of footsteps in the hall. Crouching, Fuse secured the M4 to his shoulder as two men, dressed all in black, came down the hall in his direction. Both held an AK-47.
Approaching his position, one slid a grenade from a pocket. Before he moved to pull the pin, Fuse squeezed the trigger. A few seconds later, the two lay sprawled on the floor.
Before he could check the bodies, two more men rushed through the front door. Seeing the bodies of their comrades, they stilled. Gunshots tore through their backs, the shock evident on their faces as they hit the floor.
Seconds later, Iggy and Boomer entered, kicking away the weapons before checking pulses. Emerging from his position in the study, Fuse did the same with his two targets. Turning toward the safe room, he motioned for his men to follow.
Bas entered through the family room door. Joining them in the hall, he aimed quick, unconcerned looks at the four bodies.
“Signs of more intruders?” Fuse asked Bas.
“No. Doesn’t mean they aren’t out there.”
Fuse gave a terse nod. “I need to check on Brit. You three stay here in case we have more visitors. Wrath is on his way with more backup.” He glanced around, thumbing his mic. “I’m on my way in, Gunner.”
“Roger. Fargo is with us.”
“Check.” Clearing each room he passed, Fuse ducked into the last bedroom. Inside, his hand touched a spot on the wall, triggering a door to the safe room. Stepping through the opening, he reactivated the door, closing it. He lifted his chin at Gunner and Fargo.
The room was ten by ten, containing a bunk bed, tiny kitchenette, and one wall of high-tech electronic equipment. Brittany sat on a folding chair, hands clasped in her lap, cobalt eyes boring into his.
“How are you doing, Brit?”
“Fine.”
Realizing that’s all he would get, Fuse turned to Gunner. “Anything on the monitors?”
“Nothing more from outside. Just the four tangos who entered the house.” Gunner glanced at one of the