Ronan comes over and examines my face. “I don’t think he broke anything, but you’re going to have a knot on the side of your head.”
“Yeah, pretty typical—”
I stop midsentence because Ronan’s face does a funny thing. I don’t know his looks yet, but this one isn’t good. He tilts his head, and a chill races down my spine. He looks at me and says softly into the comms, “Incoming.”
Omar curses. “Visual confirmed. They’re fucking right on top of us.”
A few seconds later a familiar, if surreal, thwap-thwap-thwap of helicopter blades slicing through the air can be heard, and just as quickly, it’s descending onto the small bit of clearing behind my parents’ house.
Ronan and I run the tree line to the field behind the house, and Omar goes across the dormers to the roof over the back porch. We get into position just as the team of Rambos are readying themselves to level my family to the ground.
“Anders, I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but we are not going to win this one. I’m going to try to get your family to the car.”
Dread punches through my system. “Yeah, get them the fuck out of here.”
Ronan and I grip our knives, and I know he’s in it with me. In that moment we both snap to attention, tracking additional movement at the periphery, headed straight for us. Fuck, what now?
We continue to track the movement when a shot rings out from the far side of the field. My jaw drops as a flash of fire centers around the base of the helicopter’s main rotor, canting it to the side and causing the whole thing to drop like a stone the last several feet, shaking out its contents like a spilled container of toothpicks.
That was a sniper shot.
Rafi’s cheerful “Miss me?” comes in across the comms, and relief floods my body.
“Like you wouldn’t believe, my pocket-sized friend. Omar, do you have eyes on my family yet?”
No answer.
“Omar?”
His comms remain silent, and I fall to a crouch, resting my forearms on my thighs.
Ronan grabs my shoulder. “Hey, head in the game. A lot of those assholes survived.”
I look up at him, nodding as I raise myself to my full height. Thane, Everett, and Odd are running toward us along the tree line, and Odd bangs on the gate as he passes it, alerting Dave and Millie that we’ve got some treats for them. The team reaches us in minutes and presses fresh rifles into our hands.
“Nice of y’all to show up when we’ve already done the heavy lifting,” I say with a smirk as Odd slaps my shoulder.
Odd, ever the gadget guy, pulls what looks to be 3-D puzzle pieces from the pocket of his tactical vest, clicking the parts together into a sphere shape within a matter of seconds. “Clear the helo,” he whispers into the comms, and everyone backs up several feet.
He walks to the edge of the tree line, bounces the object in his hand as he measures its heft, then throws it in a perfect arc so it lands and rolls to a stop under the wounded aircraft. He pulls what looks like a key fob from his vest and hits a button, obliterating the helicopter with a low-flash, minimal-boom, high-heat explosive.
“Damn, that’s sexy,” Thane says in his deep voice. Ronan colors at the timbre.
“All in a day’s work,” Odd replies as our crew makes quick work of the remaining bad guys, some of whom are on fire.
“You and Pocket come up with that?” I ask, referring to our bomb expert in Wimberley. One of the assholes near the helo hasn’t gotten the message to stay down, so I aim for center mass and pull the trigger.
Problem solved.
“Yep.”
“Nice work,” I say, fist-bumping him.
A few minutes later Rafi’s voice comes across the comms. “Looks like we’ve got the situation under control, no hostiles—”
Rafi’s transmission is cut off by an enormous explosion that flattens the rest of us to the ground. I must lose consciousness for a moment because when I come to, I’m staring up at the tall pine trees as bits of snow fall to the earth around me.
I blink.
