"I'll be at the kitchen door in the next few seconds."
"Copy. Standing by."
"LG, you're still on the stairs to the second level."
"I've got them."
Nathan hurried over to the door next to the refrigerator and cracked it a few inches. "Take these," he whispered, handing Harv two of the bangers. "Head halfway up the stairs out there and stand by. We're going to flush them into the living room."
"Too bad we don't have any tear gas."
"Maybe we do. I'll be right back." He used his penlight to search the cabinet under the sink and hit pay dirt. He grabbed a can of oven cleaner and a plastic bottle of ammonia.
He rejoined Harv at the door. "I'm going to secure this can to a banger with duct tape. Hold it in place for me."
Working quickly, he bent the safety handle a little outward, removed the tape from his waist pack, and wrapped several layers of tape around the can and the grenade. He made sure to keep the tape under the safety handle so it could fly free when deployed. He repeated the process with the bottle of ammonia.
"Shit," said Harv. "This might work."
"We're going to find out."
"If it starts a fire?"
"Then our beloved twins will be forced to come down. Up you go. Shoot out the window first. Send the other banger through a different window." He looked toward the stairs leading up to the loft and saw LG peering over the half-wall.
"Need I remind you guys I'm not in any condition to run wind sprints?"
"Don't worry, LG. I'll carry you."
"At least I'm properly dressed this time."
"Stand by," he told her. "We're about to heat things up."
Nathan positioned himself at the corner of the kitchen where he had a clear view of the second-floor stairs.
"I'm ready," Harv said.
"Do it!"
CHAPTER 29.
Nathan heard Harv's handgun boom. A few seconds later, a loud bang rocked the second floor, followed by a shrieking whistle.
The can of oven cleaner. Glorious!
It probably seemed like a demon was loose up there.
Harv's pistol sounded again, followed by a second explosion, not as loud. The ammonia grenade.
A female scream rang out.
Nathan yelled, "Hey, Ursy? How do you like us now?"
He heard stomping above his head, from more than one person, then violent coughing.
Even if the oven-cleaner grenade didn't start a fire, the fumes had to be overpowering. The ammonia made it even worse.
Automatic gunfire erupted followed by a thump of some kind.
Harv's handgun boomed again.
Nathan was tempted to rush up the stairs, but he didn't want to breathe any of the toxic gas. The glow from the stairwell ended, meaning the place probably hadn't caught fire. Either that, or it hadn't spread yet.
"One of them just tried escaping out to the deck. I forced them back inside."
"Good work, Harv. Stay there for now."
He heard more coughing and choking, louder this time.
Something thumped down the stairs. His NV registered the bouncing light source as a flashlight, not another banger.
Automatic gunfire followed.
"LG, get down!"
The wood floor of the living room splintered as dozens of slugs destroyed its surface. All the bullets missed LG's position, but that would change as the shooter reached the ground floor.
In the eerie light from the flashlight, Nathan lined up on the stairs' landing.
What happened next took him utterly by surprise.
The ceiling exploded in an oval shape of dust and debris.
One of the twins was firing blindly through the floor. Nathan dived to his left and ended up against the kitchen's island.
Looking like a war refugee, Tomas bounded down the stairs and entered the living room with a look of pure hatred and rage. The oven-cleaner grenade must've detonated right next to him; his burned pants still smoldered and his shirt was charred.
His right hand held a huge revolver, his left a Mac-10.
Nathan saw LG pull herself upright from her cover and aim at Tomas.
Her bloody hand slipped off the rail and she fell out of sight.
Tomas tossed the empty Mac-10 aside and pointed the revolver at her.
Knowing the magnum's bullets would easily penetrate the half-wall, Nathan yelled, "Tomas! Over here!"
Before he could fire a wounding shot, the ceiling erupted again, and again. Nathan found himself in a maelstrom of wood splinters, chunks of drywall, and dust.
Something hit his cheek, causing him to flinch and lose his aim just as he fired.
Tomas turned to him, madness lighting his eyes.
Nathan watched in horror as the muzzle of Tomas's revolver ignited with a thunderous roar.
He heard LG scream his name.
The impact hammered him so violently, he thought he'd pass out. He staggered back, lost his balance, and felt the back of his head smack the granite countertop. His vision grayed, then went dark. His final thought before losing consciousness was a desperate prayer that Linda wouldn't kill Tomas . . . that he wouldn't die in vain.
Harvey heard multiple bursts of automatic gunfire roar from the interior of the cabin, followed by a single thunderous report.
From the frantic tone of LG's scream, he knew Nate was down. He felt it as surely as the sun would rise.
Throwing caution aside, he bounded up the stairs to the deck and kicked the door.
An empty bedroom greeted him, along with a noxious smell.
He heard the sound just in time, a cycling bolt.
He dived to the floor as the wall to his left exploded in a linear string of eruptions.
A scream of animal-like fury overpowered the roar of the machine pistol on the opposite side of the wall.
Harv shimmied on his stomach into the hall. Without hesitating, he ran to the next door and rushed into the adjacent bedroom where he'd thrown the second grenade.
Ursula.
Her face wet with ammonia, she wiped her eyes and cursed. When she attempted to reload the Mac-10, Harvey struck her jaw with the butt of his Sig.
He kicked Ursula's weapon aside, grabbed her by the hair, and dragged her out of the bedroom and down the hall. Flailing and screaming, she tried to bite his arm. He flung her against the wall and belted her in the face again. Her eyes rolled and she went limp. Had they not needed this woman alive, he would've slit her throat.
He stopped at the top of the stairs to the living room. "LG!" he yelled.
"I'm okay."
"Where's Tomas?"
"Dead."
Shit.
Not caring about Ursula's head, he switched his grip to her ankle and hauled her down the stairs.
Tomas lay on the floor, a puddle of blood growing next to his chest.
Bloody handprints smeared the half-wall of the stairs where Linda stood. She took a step into the living room, and nearly fell.
Harv left Ursula next to her brother and rushed to Nathan's side.
He reached down and felt for a pulse.
Behind him, Ursula screamed.
Hatred boiled in Linda's soul, strong and deep. She'd wanted this opportunity for years and here it was. One down, one to go. She hobbled over to Ursula and winced at the overpowering smell of ammonia. The woman had seemed unconscious, but now she stirred. Writhed, really, no doubt from the chemical cocktail burning her face and eyes. You poor thing, she mused. I'm happy to end your suffering. Ignoring the hideous sensation in her right hip, she pressed her Sig against the woman's temple.
"Time to die, Ursy."
Squinting in agony, Ursula looked up. "You!"
"Stop," Fontana yelled. "Damn it, LG, don't do it. You know we need her alive."
"She just killed McBride!"
"He's not dead. Just unconscious."
"You're just saying that so I won't kill her."
"It's the truth. Lower the gun."
She shook her head. "She deserves to die."
"So this was your plan all along? You used us?"
Linda didn't trust herself to answer that.
In the eerie light coming from the fallen flashlight, Fontana took a step forward.
She pressed her pistol tighter against Ursula's head.
Fontana holstered his pistol and held his hands out. "One minute, that's all I ask."
She felt herself breathing hard. "What difference will a minute make?"
"Lower the gun, okay? She's not going anywhere."
She didn't move.
"Killing her will leave a wound that won't heal."
"This bitch is pure evil. She tortured Glen and tried to kill McBride in Caracas. She sold children into sexual slavery. She's pure evil!"
"I was trying to kill you, not that big dumbshit!"