The slack he’d left in the zip tie by keeping his hands thumb to thumb gave him just enough leverage to snap the hard plastic.
A second later, he reared back and punched Red square in the face.Crack!The most primitive, primalfeeling of destruction rushed through him when the bones of his knuckles made mincemeat of the cartilage in Red’s nose.
Red instinctively lifted his hands to protect his face from another blow, and it gave Doc an opening to snatch the pistol. A split-second later, he stepped behind Red, snaked an arm around the man’s throat, and placed the cold, steel barrel of the revolver tight against Red’s temple.
John, never one to be left out, stood from his chair and charged toward Wrecking Ball. But Wrecking Ball was too quick. He lifted his piece and Uncle John skidded to a stop with the barrel of Wrecking Ball’s gun kissing the center of his chest.
At the same time, Zip Tie Guy managed to avoid LT’s second charge. And with a banshee wail, raised his weapon and fired.
Boom!
The sound inside the confines of the house was immense. Dana screamed. Cami gasped. And Doc’s head swam with memories of too many battles to count.
Gunfire always brought on the flashbacks.
Luckily, Olivia had had the wherewithal to tip her chair sideways and hit the deck the instant LT began tussling with Zip Tie Guy. Good thing too. Otherwise the bullet might have plowed through her chest. Instead, it blasted through the far wall, leaving a hole the size of a quarter in the wood siding. A shaft of dim sunlight streamed through the breach.
“Olivia!” LT bellowed from where he’d fallen to his knees. Fear made his deep voice crack.
From her sprawl on the floor, Olivia lifted her head and blew a strand of black hair from her face. “I’m okay.”
LT shoved to a stand and lowered his chin until he stared at Zip Tie Guy from beneath his furrowed brow. “You motherfucker!” he snarled.
If looks were enough to kill, Zip Tie Guy would be pushing up daisies.
“Stop!” Zip Tie Guy shrieked when LT took a menacing step in his direction. He aimed his weapon around the room at anyone and everyone, as if he didn’t know from which direction danger might come at him next. “Nobody move!”
Damnit!Doc silently swore. They’d lost the advantage of surprise. And now he was outnumbered.
Then again, he was no stranger to bad odds. Whether it was treating stage V cancer during his residency or being helo-ed into a warzone during his stint with the Navy, he’d learned the show wasn’t over until the final curtain fell.
As long as he had a gun and a hostage, he had leverage.
“You broke my nose,” Red wheezed. “I can’t breathe.”
“Remember what I told you about the teeth and toenails?” Doc whispered next to Red’s ear as he listened for commotion from upstairs. Surely the gunshot would bring Head Honcho running. And yet? All was quiet on the second floor.
Was it possible the group’s intrepid leader was too cowardly to investigate? Zip Tie Guy certainly looked like he was seconds away from crapping his pants. And Red was breathing rapidly and shaking like a scared rabbit inside Doc’s embrace.
None of them were behaving like a band of badasses who had the balls to storm an island during a hurricane and steal ten million dollars’ worth of treasure.
Really, who the hellarethese guys?
The question buzzed through Doc’s brain for the hundredth time. And just like the ninety-nine times before, the only thing he knew for sure was that he didn’t have the first clue.
“Count yourself lucky all I did was wreck your nose,” he whispered to Red. He could smell the iron-rich scent of blood wafting through the material of the man’s mask. Turning his attention toward the two gunmen who held his friends in check, Doc said louder, “I’ll put a hot ball of lead through your partner’s brainpan unless you boys drop those weapons.”
He put punctuation to his point by cocking the revolver’s hammer.
“Big talk from a guy who’s outnumbered two to one,” Wrecking Ball countered. The Glock 19 he held against John shook slightly.
Doc knew it’d only take one slip, one accidental squeeze of the trigger, and a 9mm would have John meeting an untimely end. The thought was enough to make Doc’s gorge rise. But he gave no indication of that, or that his disadvantage concerned him in the least.
Instead, he kept his expression filled with steely determination.
The antiperspirant industry coined the phrasenever let them see you sweat.But SEALs tended to practice something a little different.Never let them see you flinch.
“You think you can take out all of my friends before I take out both of yours?” he asked conversationally. “The wayIsee it, the odds are inmyfavor. I, too, am a Navy SEAL, you see. Which means I know a dozen ways to end all three of you. And I bet I could do it by firing only two bullets.”
