One by one, the teams responded. In the end, two men from the estate security team were dead, four were injured, six of the bad guys were killed, and two attackers were injured.
“Situation under control,” Luke announced.
* * *
Christian and Noah, covered in mud, dragged two injured commandos with them. Caleb carried the grenade launcher and walked beside Sean. “He’s from the boat.” Sean escorted another man at gunpoint.Boom.An explosion sounded on the water. “That’s Macho Man and Frank. They had some stuff to clean up.”
“We took out six. No IDs, but two had Dragunov SVD sniper rifles. They all had SR-3M silenced automatic rifles; four had Makarov PMMs, and the RPG-26 is also Russian.” Noah frowned.
Ian, in command mode, was clear and focused. “Kieran, meet the police and fire department at the gate. Farmer and Noah, secure these three. No one knows they’re here. We need information from them. I’m not letting what happened in San Diego happen again.” They walked the two injured men and the man from the boat toward the house.
Ian instructed Tucker via com to take Cassie up to his room. “If you have to, drug her. I don’t want to hear about consent. She doesn’t leave that room.” He looked at Eric, Caleb, Christian, and Sean. “I’m putting Operation Fake Out into effect. Kieran and I devised this contingency. The only way to keep her safe is for the world to think she is dead. I’m sending the message out now. Are we clear? Cassie died in the attack.” Everyone nodded.
“Eric, go check our wounded. Christian, head to the dock to meet Macho Man and Frank. Caleb and Sean, secure every weapon but the ones the PD will want for ballistics. Once you do that, grab your brothers, scrub up, and get dry. Farmer can watch the prisoners until reinforcements get here. No matter what anyone asks, you never touched a weapon. Do you all understand?” Ian wanted to protect the active-duty soldiers, who—by Pentagon directive—were prohibited from acting in a military capacity on US soil.
Once things were in motion, Ian started moving toward the house. The combination of the wound in his side and the adrenaline ebb hitting him fast, he dropped to his knees.
“Medic! Hornet’s down. I need a medic forthwith.” Caleb dropped the weapon he was carrying, put Ian over his shoulder, and ran with him toward the house.
Luke was speaking with the director on the satellite phone when he heard the distress call. “Report.”
“Is it clear?” Eric asked.
“Roger,” Luke replied.
“I’m fine. Put me down.”
“Ian, shut up. Get him in the house.” Caleb placed him on the table, where only hours earlier he shared a meal with Cassie. Eric exposed a two-inch piece of metal protruding from Ian’s right flank and cleaned the wound.
“This is going to hurt. You’re gonna feel a pinch.” Eric injected the numbing medication. “We need to wait about ten minutes for it to work.”
“We don’t have ten minutes. Just do it.” Ian clamped his jaw shut while Eric made a small incision near the wound and inserted a sterile, gloved finger to explore how deep the metal pierced.
“If this opened your abdominal cavity, I don’t care what you say, you will need an OR.” Eric was firm as he explored the wound, making Ian wince. “I wish I could get a CT scan, but I think you’re a lucky SOB. I want Hunt to see it.”
Ian tried to sit up.
“Ian, damn it. Stop moving. I have my finger in the wound, and the shrapnel is still there. You need stitches.”
“Do it fast. I need to know what’s going on.” When Ian moved again, Caleb held him down.
“Like I said, shut up, don’t move. Luke and Kieran are working with the locals. Rachel is helping Tuck with Cassie. And Farmer is doing basic first aid until I can get to the two injured tangos. I also want to do a better check on him. Getting out of the fire, he took a nasty blow to his head again. Our four injured will be treated and transferred to the hospital by the locals. I’m sorry, but we lost two on the house team.” Eric stitched.
Ian felt heartsick. He lost men under his command before, but this was at home—his home. While Eric continued sewing, Ian contacted Tate. “Make sure they know there will be no cost to them. Whatever they want for the funerals. If they are out of town—flights, hotels, food, rental cars, and anything else.”
“Ian, the wound has a waterproof covering since I expect you to go back into the storm. I put a total of eighteen beautiful mattress stitches in your side. Don’t rip them out.”
Caleb helped Ian sit up. “Thanks, Eric.”
“Anytime.”
“You too, Caleb.” Ian grimaced as he stood.
The weather was relentless, with hail, thunder, lightning, and buckets of rain continuing to fall. A second lieutenant from the Fairfax County Police Department, two FBI forensic specialists from Quantico, two FBI special agents, the deputy chief of Fairfax Fire and Rescue, and the young chief of the McLean Volunteer Fire Department walked the perimeter of the pool house with Luke and Ian. Cassie’s room was incinerated, and the rest of the building received substantial damage. The basement was flooded and inaccessible because of collapses of the floors above.
“You’re sure she was in there?” the McLean chief asked.
“Yes, Chief. I just left her side. Cassie was in bed at the time of the blast. Tucker Hanlon, Eric Seton, and Martin Bailey were also in the building at the time of the explosion, but couldn’t reach her. It was too hot.” When Ian rubbed at his eyes, Luke placed a supportive arm around his shoulder.
