Right to Kill

  His friend jammed the silencer harder and squinted in pure malevolence.

  The message got through.

  The man said, “She looks fine to me.”

  There was a long pause, then Tomas said, “Get your asses up here. We’re leaving before the cops put up roadblocks.”

  The call went dark.

  Nathan nodded to Harv.

  Without warning, Harv swung his pistol like a Frisbee and clocked the man in the forehead. The guy went limp.

  “How do you know how hard to do that?” LG asked.

  Harv shrugged. “Just a guess.”

  She smiled. “Let’s get up there.”

  The driveway curved around to the left in a gentle slope but Nathan couldn’t yet see the cabin. There were too many trees obstructing his line of sight.

  “We’ll pull up to the cabin like we belong there. I’ll use the garage door opener on the visor and pull in. I’ll enter the cabin while you two flank the exterior.”

  “My NV is picking up a substantial amount of glow up there,” Harv said. “Probably exterior lights of some kind.”

  After twenty seconds or so, the trees thinned, and an open expanse of snow-covered driveway greeted them. Beyond it, a log cabin loomed in the twilight. Its orange exterior bulbs created a harsh contrast to the twilight background. No cars were present, but the tire tracks indicated the garage had recently been used.

  The structure consisted of three levels, the entire lower level serving as a garage and basement. On both sides of the cabin, the ground sloped up to the ground-floor level. Above the basement, a huge window wall overlooked the canyon to the west. No one could get down from there without a ten-foot vertical drop to the driveway area. Despite the exterior lights, the cabin looked dimly lit inside.

  “There’s probably a rear door,” Harv said. “I’ll get back there and cover it.”

  “Everyone ready?”

  “Let’s do this,” LG said.

  Nathan pressed the garage door opener attached to the visor.

  The middle of three roll-up doors began its journey.

  Nathan stopped twenty feet short.

  On the rear wall of the basement, Nathan saw an opening with stairs beyond.

  Someone stood in the garage.

  There was no way Nathan could avoid being seen. The security lights on the eaves of the roof blanched the entire driveway. He’d hoped no one would be waiting in the garage.

  “Harv, LG, get your windows down, we’ve got company.”

  At the roll-up door’s halfway mark, Nathan saw a nice pair of shoes, slacks, and a huge revolver.

  When the door reached head height, he recognized the man they wanted.

  Tomas Bustamonte.

  Hoping to buy an extra second of time, Nathan flashed the headlights in a friendly way. It didn’t work. Bustamonte frowned and raised his weapon.

  “Get down!” Nathan yelled.

  He stomped the accelerator and the SUV answered the call.

  Tomas fired as they crossed the garage’s threshold.

  Nathan closed his eyes and jerked his head down to the right as the windshield exploded.

  He kept his foot on the gas, hoping to plow Bustamonte before he retreated into the stairwell.

  Remembering the air bags, he slammed the brakes before the SUV smashed into the wall.

  Harv and LG fired from their open windows, but their shots missed low when the car jerked to a stop.

  Nathan clenched his teeth as Bustamonte bounded up the stairs.

  LG yelled, “Shit!”

  He kept his voice calm. “We stick to the plan. Get your bearings. This garage faces west.”

  “Nate, we—”

  “We can’t let them escape. We end this here and now. LG, take the south side, Harv, you’re on the north. Circle around and get to a position where you can cover the corners. We’ll call the three levels basement, ground, and second. Get going!”

  Nathan hustled over to the door leading to the interior of the house and flattened himself against the wall. No noise came from inside.

  He looked around and found what he needed near the washing machine. He grabbed the winter parka hanging from a coat hook.

  He ran toward the door, purposely making loud footfalls. He stopped short, tossed the parka across the opening, and was rewarded with a booming report. The weapon sounded like a small cannon, probably a magnum. The coat jumped as the bullet perforated its form and skipped off the concrete.

  “Nathan!”

  “I’m okay, Harv. He’s still in the stairwell.” In Spanish, Nathan yelled, “Give it up, Bustamonte. You and Ursula can walk out, or be carried out, we don’t care which.”

  His answer came in a string of vulgarities that would have impressed the most seasoned of Marines.

  Nathan switched his Sig to his left hand, figured out the right angle to shoot, extended his arm through the opening and fired.

  Figuring his shots had forced Bustamonte to duck for cover or retreat, he pivoted into the stairwell. Halfway up, the stairs changed direction to the left. Seeing a concrete block wall, he fired twice more at a safe angle, hoping to score a shrapnel hit. If nothing else, it kept Tomas from reappearing.

  He heard a handgun boom from the east side of the cabin.

  “Harv?”

  “Someone just tried to leave through a rear door back here. I convinced him otherwise. I’m working my way toward the northeast corner. I had to duck under a kitchen window next to the door. There’s not much of a backyard out here, just a retaining wall about ten feet from the cabin. The mountain slopes up from it. There’re stairs coming down from the second-floor deck. From the layout of the windows farther along the ground-floor wall, I’d say I’m looking at a large bedroom, not multiple rooms.”

  “LG, do you see any doors?”

  “No, just windows. I’m at the southeast corner. The retaining wall extends over to my side. I had to duck under some windows too. I don’t have eyes on Fontana.”

  “I’m not seeing any footprints,” Harv said. “No one’s been out here.”

  “I concur,” LG said.

  “I want both of you to break windows on my command,” Nathan whispered. “Shoot at an upward angle toward the ceiling to avoid crossfire. I’m hoping to flush the twins toward me.”

  His radio clicked twice.

  Nathan steeled himself. If he was going to take a bullet within the next few minutes, now could be the time. He’d come close at the Expo line, but this was different. Every room inside this cabin was unknown and every corner blind.

  Moving silently, he ascended to the landing and took a quick glance around the corner.

  No one there.

  He could see the ceiling beyond, but little more. Keeping his gun aimed at the top of the stairs, he ascended slowly, ducking lower as he gained elevation.

  His cone of vision widened. Directly ahead, he saw a dining room table and a kitchen beyond. It looked like the living room lay to his right.

  He had an idea, something Delta had suggested at the dealership.

  “Stand by, I’m going to kill the power.”

  “A loss in power might trigger the alarm system,” Harvey said.

  “It’s a risk we’re going to take. If the twins don’t have night vision, it will give us a huge advantage.”

  He hurried back down the stairs to the garage and hustled over to the circuit-breaker box. “Deploy NV.”

  Nathan opened the panel and located the master breaker at the top. “Now!” Nathan whispered. “Bust as many windows as you can.”

  The breaker made a clunk sound and the garage went black.

  He hurried back to the midpoint landing of the stairs. Using the same technique, he reached around the corner and fired three shots toward the kitchen area.

  The sound of shattering glass filled the cabin. Tonight hasn’t been a good night for windows, he thought.

  He risked a quick glance over the top step.

  No one in sight.

/>   Something thumped across the floor.

  He saw the object in his NV, its menacing shape unmistakable.

  An M84 stun grenade.

  Headed straight toward him.

  “Banger!” he yelled.

  CHAPTER 28

  This was going to be bad.

  Nathan flattened himself on the stairs and lowered his head onto a step.

  The cylindrical object brushed his head, glanced off his back, and—

  Detonated.

  The deafening blast compressed his eardrums to the bursting point. It felt like he’d taken a sledgehammer blow to the back of his head.

  His left calf ignited with the collective sting of a thousand hornets.

  He pushed himself down a few steps just as a handgun boomed.

  Behind him, the block wall exploded.

  The stinging on his calf grew worse.

  Shit, his pant leg was on fire!

  He reached down and swatted out the flame with his free hand.

  Not all was lost. Only one of his ears took the full brunt. The ear with the speaker had been somewhat spared. The choking effect of burned powder, clothing, and flesh assaulted his lungs. He should’ve anticipated this. Good thing nobody was counting his mistakes because he’d made a slew of them.

  Even through the disorientation and shock, Nathan’s mind kicked into high gear. He aimed his Sig toward the kitchen, put desperation in his voice, and yelled, “I’m hit! I’m hit!”

  No one appeared.

  Harv said something, but he had no idea what.

  He couldn’t hear himself, but whispered, “I’m okay. One of them’s in the kitchen. I was trying to draw him out.”

  He needed more time to recover. That damned grenade had thrown off his equilibrium. He’d managed to close his eyes in time, but the million-candlepower flash had penetrated his free eyelid and probably damaged his NV scope as well.

  Like something out of a recurring nightmare, he heard the same thumping sound again.

  You’re kidding me!

  A second grenade skipped over his head.

  Fortunately, this one was moving faster. It smacked the wall behind him and dropped onto the midpoint landing.

  Here we go again!

  He buried his head into his forearm as the second device detonated.

  His unprotected ear took another pounding and he wondered if he’d suffer permanent hearing loss.

  Rage overpowered the fresh agony in his head.

  Screw this.

  He came up from his crouch and charged up the basement stairs, firing as he ran. His calf felt like charred skin was peeling off, and probably was.

  His mind registered movement to his right beyond the kitchen, from an opening to a hall or other room.

  A big man had pulled the pin on a third grenade! It couldn’t be Bustamonte—this guy was Harv’s size and wearing different clothes. The twins’ personal bodyguard? Fair game then.

  Nathan activated his laser and painted the man’s chest.

  The guy saw the bright dot, dropped the grenade, and pivoted out of sight just as Nathan fired.

  He averted his eyes as a third explosion rocked the cabin.

  Had he nailed the guy? He didn’t know.

  The place fell into eerie silence, intensifying the ringing in Nathan’s head. He wondered if blood was dripping from his injured ear. Not wanting to stay exposed, he backed into the stairwell and crouched. Now that the threat from more stun grenades had been eliminated, this became a defensible position. Despite the disorientation, he directed his aim at the spot where the bodyguard had disappeared and fired two shots.

  “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.”