Chapter 5 - SHADOWS OF THE HARBOR"CLEAR!" Ethan shouted as we moved through the ruined living room.
Furniture was overturned, couch cushions were slashed, and floorboards were ripped up near the fireplace. A empty metal box sat on the center rug, surrounded by torn documents and old photos.
"He’s gone," Vance cursed, re-holstering his sidearm. "He torched the paper trail and ran."
"No," I said, pointing my tactical flashlight down at the wet muddy boot prints leading toward the back kitchen door. "He’s on foot. He knows the feds have the roads blocked."
Suddenly, a loud gunshot shattered the night glass!
A high-caliber bullet punched through the kitchen window, missing Ethan’s head by inches and shattering the plaster wall behind us!
"SNIPER!" Ethan yelled, tackling me to the floor as a second round tore through the ceiling!
"That’s not Gordon!" Vance barked, drawing behind the counter. "That’s a heavy precision rifle!"
Through the broken window, red laser dots swept across the room. Outside, dark shadows in unmarked tactical gear were moving through the trees toward the cottage. Gordon hadn't come here to escape alone—he had brought private security mercenaries hired through his offshore defense syndicates!
"Avery!" Madison screamed from the SUV parked outside.
Through the front window, I saw two armed men in black tactical gear dragging Madison out of the vehicle, slamming her against the hood!
"They're taking the decoy!" Ethan yelled, firing through the front doorway to suppress the shooters.
I didn't think twice. The adrenaline that carried me through burning helicopter wrecks and flooded submarine compartments took over. I broke cover, sprinted through the shattered back door, and rounded the edge of the porch into the pouring rain.
A mercenary turned his weapon toward me, but I closed the distance before he could raise his barrel. I slammed my left forearm—scar and all—directly into his throat, stepping inside his guard, stripping his assault rifle, and driving him down into the mud.
"Avery! Help me!" Madison shrieked as Gordon emerged from the tree line, holding a heavy revolver to her head.
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Gordon looked wildly disheveled, his tuxedo shirt torn, rain streaming down his bloodshot eyes.
"Drop the weapon, Major!" Gordon screamed over the thunder. "Drop it or I blow her head off right here!"
