Right To Kill - Right to Kill Part 35
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Right to Kill Part 35

"Nate? Check in. Can you hear me?"

That sounded like Harv. He cranked the radio's volume to maximum.

"Nate, you okay?"

"Just smarting. The first grenade burned my calf. It was their bodyguard; he just ducked into a hall or room off the kitchen on your side."

"Where are you?"

"In the basement's stairwell. My head's reeling."

"LG," Harv said, "can you work your way into the house and support Nathan's position?"

"Yes, I'm looking at a large living room. I can get in through a window."

"I'll give you cover fire when you come in," Nathan said. "Harv, are you in crossfire danger?"

"No. The walls are super thick. They could escape out this side of the house if I don't keep eyes out here."

"Do you see any other doors on the ground level?"

"Not yet. I haven't looked around the southeast corner yet."

"LG?"

"All I'm seeing are windows along the south side of the cabin. No doors."

"Harv, maintain position. LG, advance into the living room when you hear me open fire. Verbal copies from here on out, my ears are toast."

"Copy, standing by."

Nathan began shooting the corner where the bodyguard disappeared. Dust and chunks of gypsum blasted away from the wall.

"I'm inside," LG said. "I saw your muzzle flashes. I'm directly to your right on the other side of the wall. I can see the kitchen and dining room. There's a loft directly above me with a solid half-wall. I can't see if anyone's hiding up there."

"You need to clear it. I'll maintain position until you've done that."

"Copy, the stairwell to the loft's on my left. Can you cover the stairs coming down from the second floor on the other side of the living room?"

"Yeah, I can see the landing from my position."

"Copy, on the move."

Nathan didn't like being stationary, but his senses were still out of whack.

It happened so quickly, he couldn't line up on the threat in time.

A hand holding a Mac-10 reached around the corner where the bodyguard had disappeared.

"LG! Get down!"

The weapon discharged in a booming roar of twenty rounds per second.

Nathan ducked as dozens of bullets sprayed his position and the living room. Some of them found the concrete block wall behind him. Something stung the back of his neck, but he ignored it.

LG cried out. And it didn't sound good.

The barrage ended.

Throwing caution and pain aside, Nathan charged the kitchen, firing at the corner as he ran. He intended to kill the shooter before the guy could reload and send another salvo.

"Shit! SHIT!" LG yelled. "I'm hit."

"Stay there. I've got this." He had five rounds left and he intended to puncture flesh with every one of them.

He entered the kitchen and pivoted into the opening of the hallway.

In the process of reloading his machine pistol, the man snarled with fury at the bright dot on his torso.

Nathan calmly said, "Lights out, dirtbag."

As fast as he could accurately pull the trigger, he fired all five rounds into the man's chest.

The man stiffened as if being electrocuted, then slumped to the floor. The Mac-10 spilled out of his hands.

Now wasn't the time to admire his marksmanship. His weapon needed ammo.

He dropped the mag, jammed a full one home, and thumbed the slide.

"Harv, the bodyguard's down," he whispered. "I need to clear the rest of the ground floor before helping LG."

"Copy."

"LG, where are you hit?"

"Right hip," she groaned. "I haven't cleared the loft, but if anyone's up there, I'd probably be dead."

"Can you cover the stairs coming down from the second level?"

"Yeah, but don't ask me to tackle anyone."

Nathan looked around. Jackpot, he thought. Sitting on the kitchen counter were three more bangers. He stuffed them into his waist pack.

Staying on the offensive, he rushed down the hall, dropped to his back, and kicked the first door with both feet. His calf screamed in pain as the door flew open and banged the wall. An empty bathroom greeted him. He eased down the hall to the second door. Using the same technique, he breached it.

No one shot at him, but cold air gushed out of a large bedroom.

"I've got eyes on you and this side of the bed," Harv said. "It's clear."

Nathan pointed to his own eyes, then pointed to the closet. Staying low, he moved deeper in the blackness and checked an open closet door. Nothing. Not even clothes. Only one door left-likely a bathroom.

He eased along the wall and peered in at waist level. An open shower curtain revealed an empty tub. Next to the toilet, a small cabinet-too small for an adult to hide in-supported a sink.

"Unless someone's hiding in a kitchen cabinet, there's no one on the ground floor. The twins must've retreated upstairs hoping to escape out the exterior deck above you."

"Any sign of Ursula? Clothes, anything like that?"

"Nothing. LG, I'm coming to you. Harv, stay there and keep eyes on the stairs and second-floor deck."

"Copy."

He found LG clutching a bloody mess, put a finger to his lips, and hustled up the loft's stairs to be absolutely certain no one hid up there. No one did. He returned to LG and used his Predator knife to cut away her pants. Two of the Mac-10's bullets had cleaved into her right hip. It didn't look as though any major arteries or veins had been severed, but her pants were soaked.

"Keep pressure on it."

"Ya think?" she gasped.

"I'll be right back. Cover me."

He patted her shoulder and ran for the couch, the burned flesh of his leg stinging worse than before. The opening of the stairwell leading up to the second level loomed large. Ursula or Tomas could appear at any moment. So far, they hadn't.

He grabbed a sofa cushion and limped back to her position. "Unzip it while I cover us."

She wasted no time removing the foam. Her bloody handprints created a stark contrast to the light-colored leather. He adjusted the focus on his NV and went to work.

Using his Predator knife, he sliced the seams of the cushion's cover. It was now long enough, but its shape was wrong. He cut pieces out, creating a reverse hourglass shape. Working quickly, he placed the wide portion of the leather over the wound's puncture and tied the narrow strips on the opposite side of her hip. "Be right back."

He made a trip over to the fireplace and back. After forcing the iron poker under the knot, he gave it a 360-degree turn, tightening the tourniquet like an oversized garrote. LG moaned, clenching her teeth.

"I'm going around one more time."

He manhandled the poker through one more turn.

"Shit, McBride, you're killing me."

"All done. Keep it from unwinding."

"Where'd you learn this?"

"The Marines, of course."

"Well, Semper fucking fi."

"Harv, you copy all of this?"

"Affirm. Sounds like LG's okay."

"I've got her bleeding under control. She took two to the hip." He grasped her shoulder. "You're out of the fight. Stay here, that's an order." He showed her one of the grenades and smiled. "I've got two more of these. Harv and I are gonna take out the trash."

She grimaced in pain. "May I quote Fontana?"

"Of course."

"I like my world with you in it."

"Me too."

"Why haven't they attacked?"

"They're on the second floor and want us to go up there, which puts us at a big disadvantage. Hang tough, LG. I need to send a text to Cantrell. Can you cover us for a sec?"

"Yeah." LG pivoted to her good side and pulled herself up so she could see over the sloped half-wall that also served as the stair rail.

He had a good cell signal and sent: Engaging the twins. LG seriously wounded "There's no activity out here," Harv said, "but a few lights have come on in the cabin to the north. It's a good bet deputies are on the way."

Ignoring the hideous sensation on his leg, he limped over to the sofa and crouched.

Keeping his voice low, he said, "I'm in the living room and I've got eyes on the stairs down to the garage. They can't escape in this direction. LG's got my back. I'm going to clear a door near the stairs. I think it's a coat closet. The door you're guarding leads into the kitchen. Stand by: I'm going to test my theory."

"Copy."

Nathan grabbed a coaster from the sofa table and hurled it across the room. It bounced off the floor and smacked the door.

"Did you do that?"

"Yes. LG, you've got living room, dining room, and kitchen." He hurried over to the suspect door near the basement stairs, stood to the side, and ripped it open. Several coats and umbrellas greeted him. He looked across the living room to the stairs leading up to the second floor and knew he'd have to go up them. No time like the present. He was about to make his move when his phone vibrated.

"LG, you still good?"

"Yes."

He ducked into the pitch-black stairwell leading to the garage, pulled his cell, and looked at the text from Cantrell.

Ambulance, Delta, and FBI SAs on the way. Local law enforcement will stage at street until Delta and feds arrive. ETA 15 minutes. I need the twins alive.

No shit, Sherlock. He instantly regretted the crass thought. His damned leg felt like a blowtorch was at work. Surprised Cantrell had brought in the FBI, he relayed the info to Harv and LG. Thinking about it more, it made sense at this point. Delta had no law-enforcement powers.

"Nate, you shouldn't clear the second floor by yourself. If LG's got this door, let me help you. We can leapfrog it."

"I need you out there. I'll be okay. I have a few surprises in store and it's super dark in here."

Nathan started toward the second-floor stairs, then stopped.

Why not give the twins a taste of their own medicine?

"Harv, I'll meet you at the door leading out of the kitchen. Are you at any risk of being fired upon from any of the windows upstairs?"

"No. If they open or break one, I'll hear it."