Getting everything I needed from my house was even more difficult than I anticipated. Everyone was there for family dinner, which made it much more difficult to explain the gear and why I couldn’t stay. My mother had tears in her eyes as Abigail attempted to console her. I’ll explain everything later. After.
Impressive.This place is much nicer in person than it is on the aerial satellite. There’s a large iron gate out front with a security box to put in a code. Inside the gate is a long concrete drive leading up to an elaborate estate.His parents’ money, no doubt.
The Sheridan’s come from a long line of corrupt politicians. Chase’s father is no different. On his mother’s side is a laundry list of famous defense attorneys, judges, and even a few high-ranking military officials. Chase undoubtedly hopes for a future in politics. Unfortunately for Chase, there’ll be no future. It’s important to know your enemy, and I’ve been gathering information on my enemy for quite some time now.
Vaughn never mentioned it, but she pressed charges on him after he assaulted her in this very house. There was always a chance he might do something stupid to get her to drop those charges. Either way, he was always going to die.
I tap numbers into the screen of my phone before hearing a familiar Appalachian accent. John lives in North Carolina. We’ve been friends since recruit training, and he’s some kind of computer genius. That never was in my wheelhouse.
“Hey. I’m here.”
“Openinggggggggg, now.”
The creaky iron gates separate just as he said they would.
“You still got eyes inside?”
“Yep. And the outside cameras are on a thirty-eight second loop. That’s the best I can do on short notice.”
“That’s more than enough. The numbers inside changed any?”
“Nope. Five outside. Seven in, plus the three hostages upstairs. No cameras in those rooms, so I can’t report much there, but they were alive when they went in. A bit roughed up, but breathing. Kicking, even. Same guys from the apartment brought them in. The guys on the inside showed up later. Except the one. He’s the one giving orders.”
I can’t help but smile at that. Vaughn is a ball of venom, and something about the twins tells me that there’s more to them than unfettered humor. That apartment was a mess. It wasn’t just Vaughn fighting back in there.
“You’ve done me a solid here, Grizzly.”
“Nothing you haven’t done for me many times, Post Man. Give ‘em hell, brother.”
“Always.”
The gate is far enough away from the house that the men outside don’t see it open. Sneaking up to the house is much easier than it should be. Three of the guys outside are huddled together, looking at something on one of their phones. These are not trained professionals. Not the kind Chase should’ve gotten for tonight, anyway. These are the guys who took Vaughn and the boys.
Chase knows I’m coming. He knew it the moment he took her. Surely, with his connections, he looked into my background.And this is the best he could do?I should be insulted, but I’m too excited to see Paul Walker to be too upset.
Even though I make no attempt to quiet my footsteps, I’m just ten feet away from the huddle before anyone looks up.
That’s a bullet right through the left eye for dipshit number one. Right eye for dipshit number two, but dipshit number three has the good sense to yell for help and starts to run toward the fountain for cover. People should be on their way, regardless. The silencer definitely muffles the sound, but it’s not quiet like the movies make it seem.
I remove the small axe from my hip and throw it at his retreating back. The blunt end of the axe head hits him so hard at the base of the skull that it knocks him to the ground. “Damn it. I was really looking forward to watching you take a couple steps after this thing sliced into your cranium.” I’m walking toward dipshit number three while I talk to him, and he moans, face down on the ground. He should probably be unconscious after a hit like that, so it’s a testament to his skull thickness that he’s still awake.
“Guess I’m not that good with this thing yet. I only started working with it about six months ago, and I’ve been busier than usual lately. Let me tell you, Dipshit. Can I call you Dipshit?” He doesn’t answer. “Anyway, if I had thrown one of these blades, I could hit a mosquito at a hundred yards. Your skull would be wide open. It’s really something to see.” He probably doesn’t believe me, but if he was going to live through the night, I’d show him.
I remove the long, thick blade from my other hip and take my trophy from this assclown while he squeals and cries on the ground. Heavy footsteps in gravel pound this way, and I know it’s the other two dickwads that I haven’t seen yet. It’s about time. Dipshit number three yelled for help nearly three minutes ago. His death is quick and brutal with a blade across his throat. The cut is so deep that my blade scrapes bone. I finish with him quickly so I can concentrate on the incoming ass monkeys.
The two slowpokes will have to be dealt with before I can claim my trophies from dipshits one and two.
The two newcomers skid to a stop at the edge of the circle drive. They look around and see the bodies spread out along the front yard, but they can’t see where I’m waiting behind one of the stone pillars. One of the men removes a radio from his belt and starts talking. “He’s here. Nick, Jeff, and Dusty are all dead.”
He doesn’t even sound scared. He sees the shape dipshit number three is in, buthe can’t even acknowledge my superior lethality with a tremor in his voice? Now that’s some bullshit.I’m definitely killing his buddy there first, so he has some time to take in the severity of the situation he’s found himself in.Fucking hit men these days. No respect.
The two remaining men spread out, and both are scanning the area. Looking for me. Luck is twisting in my favor when the one scheduled to die first comes closer to my hiding spot. I could’ve shot both these guys in the head multiple times already, but I have more grandiose aspirations for my dramatic entrance into the home. The man is nearly upon me now, so I throw the gravel and dust I’ve gathered into his face. He shoots wildly in front of him, just as I expected, so I’ve already sheltered back behind the pillar. When he brings his gun hand up to his face to wipe his eyes, I strike. Slicing down with both blades I now have in my hands, I carve up his face and chest. The other guy, the one I’ve been hoping to impress, comes running. He can’t shoot without hitting the guy I’m making shredded cheese out of. It may look like I’m swinging wildly, but each of my slices with the blades are intentional and hit exactly where I plan for them to.
His eyes are mostly gone. His hands and arms are a mess of blood, hanging flesh, and visible bone. He lasts longer than I thought he would, but he finally crumples to the ground when the other guy is right on me. He barrels straight into me, knocking us both to the ground. He’s a big fella, and he tries to position us so that he lands on top of me. Fortunately, one of us is the best killer in the country, and it isn’t him.
Spinning him while we’re still midair, I make sure we land face to face on our sides. A loud grunt and a huff leave him as the impact with the ground knocks the air from his lungs. I’m prepared for the crash, but it still sends shocks of pain up my shoulder and hip. Recovering quicker than my opponent, I again use one of the blades in my hands, shoving it into his gut. I don’t want to kill him. He needs to be alive and screaming for what comes next.
He immediately proves himself to be tougher than his compatriots when he nails me in the side of the head with a left jab. He has a knife in his gut. A pretty big one if I’m tooting my own horn. That jab hurt, and I don’t think this guy is even left-handed. When he was running toward me and hamburger meat over there, he was holding up his gun in his right hand.
