Bullets erupted through the wall behind him. Patrick threw himself at the floor and crawled along the marble tiles until he was right next to the entryway.
A curse came from the other room. He peered through the doorway. The second gunman had jammed his weapon and was struggling to release the magazine. He finally managed it and reached for a new mag from his vest.
Patrick pulled the trigger just as the man slammed a new magazine into the weapon. The man flew back with the impact of the bullets and blood sprayed in an arc across the foyer wall from the wounds in the man’s chest and neck.
Patrick knew an arterial spray when he saw one. The man wouldn’t survive.
He stood up and looked at the two men he’d killed. His shoulders drooped at the senseless loss of life. What was going on?
He shook his head, as if he could wipe away his culpability in their deaths. His soldier days were supposed to be behind him. He was a priest now, but he’d slipped so easily back into that old skin.
Gunfire barked from the kitchen. Taking off at a sprint, he knew he was going to have to live in that skin a little longer.
CHAPTER 46
As Henry entered the kitchen, he realized Patrick wasn’t with them. Glancing back through the window in the swinging door, he saw Patrick flattened against the dining room wall. Beyond him, two men crossed the foyer towards him.
He reached out to warn Kevin when gunfire rang out from the dining room. Henry pushed Danny under the counter in the pantry and motioned for him to stay down. He turned to go help Patrick when Kevin tapped his shoulder, pointing to the kitchen. Two more men were about to enter through the back.
Kevin lowered himself behind the large kitchen island. Henry motioned for Danny to stay put before following Kevin. Kevin indicated that he would go around the island to the right and that Henry should go around to the left. Henry nodded, his shotgun firmly grasped in his hands.
The hinges creaked as the kitchen door swung open. Henry made his way around the island until he was only about six feet from the gunmen, still hidden by the island. Gunfire erupted again from the other room. Henry glanced out; both gunmen were looking in the direction of the dining room, right where Danny was hiding.
He slid out from behind the island, shooting from the ground. Kevin did the same from the other side. The gunmen fell, huge gaping holes in their torsos. One man was gone, but the other still gasped for breath.
Henry crossed to him and placed his hand under the man’s neck. “Who sent you?”
The man looked at Henry, his eyes wide. He grasped Henry’s arm. “Help me.”
“Help’s coming. Tell me who sent you.”
The man struggled to speak, blood gurgled from his mouth. His breathing was jagged. He clutched at Henry’s arm. Henry knew there was nothing he could do to save him.
The man let out one last gasping breath and went still, his arms falling to his sides. Henry gently lowered the man’s head to the floor.
Patrick came through the pantry door with his gun drawn, Danny close behind him. “All clear?”
“Yes,” Henry replied his mouth set in a grim line. “Danny, you okay?”
“Y-y-eah,” Danny stammered out, his eyes the size of saucers as he took in the scene.
“That’s all of them," Kevin said from his spot on the floor, a pool of blood developing around him. “Assuming you got the guys that came in the front.”
Patrick nodded. “They were not as gifted as some others we’ve come in contact with.”
Henry’s eyes shot back to Patrick’s. He was right. Focused on the immediate threat, he hadn’t considered the nature of their attackers. These attackers were not superhuman. The attack must be related, but why send humans? What had changed?
Kevin closed his eyes. “A small force for a quick-kill mission. Plus the helicopter pilot, although he’s probably long gone.”
Danny grabbed some kitchen towels from a drawer. Dropping to the floor next to Kevin, he pressed the towels against the Kevin's shoulder wound with a shaky hand. “He needs a doctor.”
Patrick leaned down to help Danny. But Henry noted he let Danny take the lead and he was thankful. Danny obviously needed to feel as if he was doing something constructive to stave off the fear racing through his system.
Henry pulled out his cell phone and called for help, even though he could already hear the sirens in the distance. While he was talking to the 911 dispatcher, his mind was racing. They had to be getting close to something for someone to take this bold a step. These men were trained professionals.
Henry knew that the only reason they’d survived was because the hit squad had expected the only resistance to come from the security force. And the security force had been taken out with brutal efficiency. Jake and Laney had been equally lucky in surviving the attack on them last night. How much longer, though, could everyone’s luck last?