I turn, and we stare at each other. He steps forward and kisses me.
“Be careful, you can’t die until after we’ve had the conversation you’re trying to avoid.”
“That would be quite an extreme solution,” I grumble.
I hear shots from downstairs, meaning it’s the perfect time for us to move, as the distraction of Andrews shooting will draw their attention.
“Move.”
I open the door and move tactically towards the stairs, keeping close to the wall. Simultaneously, Owen runs towards Andrews’ master suite, dropping the bag he packed, with it being too awkward to carry.
My grip is firm on the tactical knife, where I hold it close to my chest. The team of six has split into room clearing procedures.
The front door is open, where I see one soldier left protecting their exit. Their back is to me, so I pick up speed and launch myself from the stairs to the doorway, thrusting my knife through the skin and arteries in his neck, slitting his throat.
He gurgles and falls. I grab his gun from his broken body and drop to my knee, rifle in my hand, waiting for the fall out of my attack, but no one comes. I grab the body and pull it out of the line of sight and pat it down, gearing up with anything useful.
This includes his body armour, where I slide my tactical knife, a round of ammo, andOooooogrenades. Perfect. Now confident with my state of affairs and improved attire, I head back into the mansion.
Firing comes from the library. Andrews can hold his own, so I sweep right, heading in the opposite direction to remove the threats quickly, efficiently, and get the hell out of here to meet Owen.
I turn from the grand entrance into the smaller hallway and see the back of two intruders, with the third dropping back. He’s about to turn around, checking their six, so I drop to a knee, grab the automatic rifle, and fire off two shots. One in the chest, followed up quickly by one in the head.
I don’t stop to check the body. He’s down for good. Instead, I move quickly along the corridor where I’m in the open, and head through the door where the rest of the dead commandos’ team just went.
As I enter, I sweep my eyes across the space and then drop to the island that stands as the perfect cover in the centre of the vast kitchen.
Commando two is heading into the adjoining seating area, whilst commando one sweeps the open plan dining room. I peek out from my island spot. Shameit’s not the beach and sea kind of island, line my shot up, and fire. Commando one is down, I aim at commando two, fire the shot before he has even realised his friend is down.
I’m that quick.
I decide to flank the library, where Andrews is currently holed up. Moving swiftly, I slip through the large bi-fold windows, thecool night air brushing against my skin as I crouch low. My footsteps are light, deliberate, barely making a sound as I press myself against the side of the house. The exterior cold beneath my fingertips, rough and uneven.
Shadows stretch across the pristine lawn, cast by the glow of the outdoor lights, but I keep to the darkest edges, staying out of sight. Each step brings me closer to the library’s window. My pulse steadies, my breathing controlled.
Almost there.
To my surprise, there are no other threats outside. Thank God something’s gone right. Owen will have made it to the shed. Hopefully he’s been as lucky as me and met no one.
Now, in my line of work, not many things surprise me, but they always say prepare for the unexpected. So, you can imagine my surprise when standing in the doorway to the library, is none other than Owen who has completely ignored everything I have just told him to do.
Why am I surprised? He never bloody listens. Why would he start doing it now? Instead of going to the safety of the shed, of course he’d put himself in the house with the hard drive, where there’s gunfire.
“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter.
“Where’s Lucy?” I hear Owen question through the open window.
“Where’s the hard drive?” Andrews counters.
Owen pauses and looks around the room at the fallen bodies.
“Safe.”
“You need to give it to me. I’ll keep it safe; they won’t think to look for it with me. They think it will be on you,” Andrews says, lowering his weapon.
He walks towards Owen, who takes a step back, shaking his head. “It stays with me.”
“Okay,” Andrews says, dropping the subject and walking towards Owen.
