She tapped her mic. “On it.”
They headed for the rear door, Bodie guarding her six when he inhaled, shoved her sideways a second before Graves crashed through a glass door, shards spraying out in every direction. He rolled with the impact, pistol aimed her way as he scrambled upright, pulled the trigger.
The shot went wide as Bodie barreled into him, tumbling them both against the wall, Bodie’s rifle pinned across Graves’ chest. They grappled for balance, knocking over tables and chairs as the fight sprawled into the next room.
Rowan scrambled to get a clear shot, but they kept changing places, the fight a blur of arms and legs. A blade glinted in the dim light as it sliced through the air, clattering to the ground along with Bodie’s rifle when he blocked the strike with a cross of his arms, used his weapon to tear the knife away.
Graves grunted, taking several hard hits as if he didn’t even feel it, landing two to Bodie’s ribs in quick succession. Bodie’s breath wheezed out in a strangled cough, but he caught the other man’s leg when he tried a close-quarter kick — tossed him back against the wall.
Rowan jockeyed left, got a clear sightline when the floor creaked behind her. She turned as Walsh stepped across the threshold, pistol aimed her way.
Too close.
Even with her Sig pointed his way, she’d miss wide or maybe hit his vest. Not enough to drop him — stop him from getting off a shot.
She tried anyway. Pulled the trigger as her barrel swept across his path, his gun flashing a moment sooner. She braced for impact, prayed it caught her in the vest when Bodie stepped in front — took the hit.
He jerked backwards, tumbled over a couch and out of sight, as her shot caught Walsh in the arm, twisted him back out the door. Footsteps stomped across the porch, slowly fading into the distance.
Rowan swept the room, clocked Graves over on the floor, blood blossomed on his upper shoulder, more on his thigh. What might have been Walsh’s shot as it punched through Bodie, then carried on — hit Graves in the leg.
She darted over to him, kicked his weapons away, then dropped down beside Bodie. Blood ate up a circle of his sweater just beneath his vest, more dripping onto the floor.
He cursed, pushed onto one elbow. “It’s not that bad. We can’t lose Walsh.”
Rowan stopped him from standing. “Screw, Walsh. You’re hit.”
“Still breathing. And I still have a promise to keep.”
“You can’t get justice if you’re dead.”
“Then, let’s go before that changes.”
“Bodie… Shit.”
Bodie accepted her hand as she wrapped her fingers around his wrist, heaved him to his feet. He teetered for a moment, the floor not quite stable beneath his boots until the world stopped spinning — settled slightly off-kilter.
Nothing he couldn’t work with.
He looked over at Graves. He’d managed to deflect the guy’s last strike, drive the Ka-bar into Graves’ shoulder when Walsh had stepped into the room, Beretta trained on Rowan. Bodie hadn’t even finished processing the scene, he’d just reacted on instinct — stepped in front.
Just dumb luck the round had punched through him and into Walsh, dropping the man before he’d had a chance to launch another counterattack.
Rowan called for backup across the comms — someone to cuff Graves — as she tied her jacket around Bodie’s wounds, then followed him out of the lodge and down the stairs. Bodie scanned each direction, but everything blurred into black.
Dalton answered Rowan’s plea. “Caught a glimpse of Walsh heading for the pool house. I can’t get a clean sightline.”
Bodie took off, tripped his way across the clearing, then down a slight hill. A single silhouette appeared in front, too far for an easy takedown. Rowan kept pace, watching for stragglers as they followed after Walsh, tried to close the gap. They hit the enclosed section turned right, then cut across the empty pool when they spotted him climbing up a utility shed.
Walsh stood, got ready to jump, when Rowan steadied her hand, fired a single round still running — punched a hole in the roof next to Walsh’s feet. “I wouldn’t, Dr. Walsh.”
He froze, Pelican case grasped in one hand. He turned, looked as if he might fire, when his gaze locked on Bodie’s as he and Rowan stopped several meters away.
Bodie eased forward, gun aimed at the center of his head. “I’ve already got a reason to kill you, and Rowan’s got even more. Your choice.”
Walsh glared at them. “You have no idea what you’re doing. The connections I have.”
Bodie took a step. “Pretty sure, those connections are going to disappear. Isn’t that right, Nick?”
