I must do this. I must.
CHAPTER 65
Deirdre and Adam were out on the main floor, watching the drone feed on the supersized screen on the wall. The motorcade was on the move now, pulling away from the safe house.
‘The rain is interfering with our visuals,’ one of the analysts said. ‘Shall we switch to hyperspectral to compensate?’
Deirdre nodded. ‘Do it.’
The screen flickered, then morphed into thermal infrared. The feed was redrawn in shades of ultraviolet, and heat signatures glowed white.
Adam inhaled and pointed. ‘Deirdre…’
She saw it. And she felt her insides clench up
.
Good God.
She slapped her hand against her Bluetooth earpiece. ‘This is Actual! Fall back! You’ve got an incoming contact!’
CHAPTER 66
‘This is Actual! Fall back! You’ve got an incoming contact!’
Maya’s heart skipped. ‘Victor, Whiskey, evasive manoeuvres
now
!’
That’s when a bus came surging out from around the corner, tyres squealing, water streaking, cutting across the street, and the Noah’s SUV braked hard, and Dashiell did the same, and Maya jerked forward, her seat belt going taut and—
Jesus—
she saw a broadside of gun barrels at the bus’ windows.
Kalashnikovs.
Gasping, Maya slammed her palm against the dashboard. ‘Back up!
Back up!’
Dashiell switched to reverse and twisted the wheel, breaking formation and swerving around Gabrielle’s SUV, and the rifles thundered, muzzles flashing like strobes, and rapid-fire raked across their vehicle’s bodywork and windscreen, the armoured glass cracking into dozens of spider webs.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
‘Run interference!’ Noah said. ‘Protect the principal!’
Gabrielle answered, ‘We’re trying, damn it! We’re trying!’
Noah and Gabrielle’s SUVs were out in front now, reversing in unison, trying to shield them from the gunfire, but—
fuck
—it wasn’t doing much good because the bus was a behemoth, and the tangos were shooting down from an elevated position.
Maya flinched as a ricocheting bullet blew apart their side mirror.
Sparks flew.
‘Executing a J-turn!’ Dashiell said.
He stamped on the brakes and jerked the wheel, catapulting them into a spin, and when they straightened out, they were now facing the opposite direction, racing back towards the cul-de-sac, back towards the safe house.
It’s a dead end, and we’re going to end up being boxed in,
Maya thought.
But there was no other choice.
The tangos had already blocked the only street exit.
CHAPTER 67
Yusuf stepped off the bus and advanced on the enemy. Shooting and reloading. Shooting and reloading. The rain drenched his clothes and soaked through his shoes, but he did not care. He felt nothing but euphoria. Dizzying euphoria.
His heart pounded.
His muscles sang.
And—
God Almighty
—he had never felt more alive.
CHAPTER 68
Maya glanced behind her. Saw that Belinda was sobbing, and Abraham had one arm around her, his free hand fingering his prayer beads.
‘Bismillah ir-Rahman ir-Rahim,’
he murmured.
In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful.
Maya forced herself to breathe. To consider her tactical options. And she settled on the most feasible—they would have to form a barrier between the tangos and the safe house. It would carve out some space. Buy them some time. Hopefully.
Maya straightened in her seat and touched her microphone. ‘Victor, Whiskey, we’re going to form a defensive line just short of the driveway. I repeat, a defensive line just short of the driveway. And we’re going to lay down suppressing fire.’
‘Roger that,’ Noah said.
‘Ten-four,’ Gabrielle said.
Dashiell nodded. ‘Here we go.’
They fishtailed to a stop just short of the safe house, and the other SUVs coasted in, locking together to form a wedge, and Maya pushed her door open and leaped out into the rain, flicking off the safety on her MP5 sub-machine gun.
Adrenalin seared her senses, red-hot.
‘Suppressing fire!’ she yelled, sliding to a crouch and leaning against the side of the SUV’s hood, bracing her weapon against her shoulder, acquiring a sight picture. She thumbed her selector switch to a three-round burst and fired from left to right, shell casings arching.
Bam, bam, bam.
Bam, bam, bam.
Bam, bam, bam.
The approaching tangos darted off the street and took cover behind parked cars and trees and nearby houses. They were shouting and chanting in a language she didn’t recognise. Probably Somali.
Gabrielle came up beside Maya and took aim with her M4 carbine, firing a sustained burst. ‘Secure the principal. I’ve got this.’
‘Stay frosty. Hold the line.’ Maya gave Gabrielle’s shoulder a squeeze. Then she turned to Noah, Dashiell and Arthur. ‘You’re with me. Come on. Let’s move.’
They popped open the SUV’s rear door and bundled Abraham and Belinda out of the vehicle, and with their heads tucked low, Maya and her team formed a protective ring, guiding them up the driveway and towards the house.
All around them, gunfire hissed and cracked.
Belinda retched. Doubled over. Vomited.
Maya was pushing against her, urging her forward, when a bullet skipped off the low garden wall beside them and thumped into her stomach. She flinched and coughed and wheezed. Listed sideways. Saw spots dancing before her eyes.
Noah caught her by the arm and steadied her. ‘
Shit.
You okay?’
Maya exhaled, fighting off the nausea, the pain. ‘I’m fine, I’m fine. My vest caught it. Keep moving.
Go. Go. Go
.’
Huddling together, they moved as one and reached the front door, unlocking it and stumbling inside. Wet and frazzled. But safe. For now.
‘Actual,’ Maya said into the microphone, lips pulled tight, one hand clutching the bruise forming under her vest. ‘We’re hemmed in, and we’re going to need assistance.’
Mama answered, ‘I’m in touch with the CS. They are dispatching a quick-reaction force.’
‘ETA?’
‘Under fifteen minutes. Just… hunker down and hold the fort.’
‘Tell them to hurry.’
‘Understood. I’ll provide tactical support where possible. Just hold on until the QRF get to you.
Maya shook her head, frustrated. ‘Copy that.’
CHAPTER 69
Marcia Wigmore thought she was listening to fireworks.
God-awful fireworks.
She peeled back her curtains to take a look, and that’s when a bullet exploded through the glass and ripped through her jaw.
Clawing at her face, choking on blood, she toppled back against her dresser, upending it, and the last thing she thought about before the dreadful blackness overtook her was that she had been right.
Abraham Khan had been living next door after all.
CHAPTER 70
With her heart thudding in her ears, Maya led Abraham and Belinda into the kitchen. Got them to take cover between the countertop and the refrigerator. And she padded them out with spare bulletproof vests.
She saw the fear etched on their faces. The distress. And she countered it with neuro-linguistics. Positive talk. ‘When we get out of here, I’ll be cooking you the best steak dinner.’ She forced a smile and winked at Abraham. ‘
Halal
, of course.’
Abraham chuckled wearily. ‘Is that a promise?’
‘Absolutely, sir.’ Then Maya turned to her team. ‘We’re going to have to harden up our position. That means grabbing everything and anything and wedging them up against every door, every window.’
Noah nodded. ‘Chairs, tables, beds, cabinets…’
‘Right. We’re going to block each point of ingress. Plug the holes. Create a protective cocoon.’
‘Let’s do it,’ Dashiell said.
CHAPTER 71
Yusuf was angry.
The enemy was firing at them from behind a covered position. Pinning them down. Preventing them from advancing.
Curses.
He considered bringing the bus around. Using it as a counterweight to shatter the enemy’s defence. But, no, that would only unblock the street’s exit. Create an opening for them to escape.
Yusuf shook his head.
Sneered.
That left only one other option.
He crept around the jeep he was hiding behind. Approached the driver’s side. Reached up and smashed the butt of his rifle against the glass. The jeep’s alarm went off in a wail. He reached in and unlocked the door. Dipped his head under the steering column. Used his knife to pry open the plastic covering beneath. And he fumbled with the mass of wires that dropped out. Found and completed the circuit. And the engine sputtered to life.
CHAPTER 72
Maya darted from room to room. Made final inspections. And, panting, sweating, she decided that they were as fortified as they were ever going to be.
With Noah by her side, she slipped into the garage and touched her microphone, ‘Whiskey, we’re all set here. RTB. I repeat, RTB.’
‘Ten-four,’ Gabrielle said. ‘RTB.’
Maya took up position to the left of the garage door, and Noah took the right. She tipped her chin. ‘Ready?’
Noah nodded. ‘Go.’
Maya hit the console on the wall, and the door rolled up, and they leaned out, shooting in controlled bursts, creating a diversion that allowed Gabrielle and her team to disengage and get back on the SUVs, steering them up the driveway.
CHAPTER 73
Yusuf stamped on the jeep’s accelerator and veered away from the sidewalk, and three other boys were with him, howling and bouncing in their seats.
Yusuf aimed straight for the enemy.
We must shatter their defence. We must.
CHAPTER 74
‘Heads up!’ Mama said. ‘You have incoming!’
Maya looked up and saw the jeep screaming in, and she tracked it with her weapon, flicking her selector switch to full automatic. Quick-stepping out into the rain, she dropped to one knee, and she opened fire, recoil buckling against her shoulder, and she blew out the jeep’s front tyre.
The jeep drifted, fishtailed, but maintained its momentum.
Noah came up beside Maya, teeth bared, and he opened fire at the hood, trying to disable the engine block. Smoke gusted from the jeep’s front grill. But still it kept on coming.
Shit.
Maya took aim at the driver, and she riddled the windscreen with holes, seeing blood erupt, and the driver slumped against the wheel, horn blaring, and the jeep smashed into the back of Gabrielle’s SUV.
Metal crunched against metal.
A symphony of sparks flew.
And both vehicles spun off the driveway, tyres kicking up grass and mud, before crashing against the garden’s low wall.
CHAPTER 75
Yusuf couldn’t move.
Couldn’t breathe.
His mouth was filled with the copper taste of blood.
Pain speared his chest.
He gasped and croaked, his breath bubbling.
Khat.
All he wanted in these final moments was
khat.
CHAPTER 76
Three tangos stumbled out from the jeep, wild-eyed and swaying.
Maya’s MP5 was dry. No time to reload. So she dropped it, allowing it to dangle by its harness. And she palmed her pistol, bringing it up, clasping it in a Weaver’s stance, and she fanned the trigger, double-tapping the first tango, double-tapping the second.
Time slowed to a crawl.
Shell casings spiralled.
Gunsmoke plumed.
And Noah opened up on the third tango on full automatic, and he convulsed and went down, but not before he gave his trigger a final death squeeze. A staccato of gunfire streaked. And Noah’s head snapped back, the top of his skull exploding.
Maya froze, her throat cramping up.
Fuck.
Noah dropped to his knees, mouth slack, eyes rolling. And he slumped forward on the driveway, blood mixing with rainwater.
Gabrielle staggered out from her SUV. ‘Noah. Oh Jesus. Noah…’
Maya forced herself to breathe. To move. ‘Help me. Help me get him inside.’
Teeth clenched, she snatched up Noah’s carbine. Then, grabbing him by the wrist, she dragged him back, her shoes sliding and sloshing. And Gabrielle came up beside Maya and took hold of his other arm, and together, they pulled him into the garage.
The other officers formed a defensive phalanx.
Fired volleys at the tangos approaching from the street.
Forced them back.
And Maya hit the console on the wall, lowering the door.
Gabrielle knelt beside Noah’s body and trembled, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Maya exhaled, nostrils flaring. Wrestled with the shock. The grief. The rage. And she pulled off her jacket and spread it over Noah.
Then she touched Gabrielle’s shoulder. Kept her voice calm and even. ‘Don’t get sad. Get even. Do you hear me? Get even.’
CHAPTER 77
Maya led Gabrielle and the officers out from the garage. Into the lounge. And she heard the tangos fanning out at the front of the house, chortling like hyenas.
‘Bastards.’ Gabrielle saddled up beside a barricaded window. Angled her carbine over the top of the table pressed against it. And fired a sweeping burst. And she received a flood of gunfire in response. The table splintered. Wooden shavings peppered the air.