Instead, he exhaled and spoke in the lowest whisper he was capable of. “Eyes on the house. Target should be inside. Perimeter is clear and vehicles disabled. But you’ll have to get past exterior security cams.” He paused. “Lot of fuckin’ birds, though.”
The water on his arm arched up, the way it might if it were going to form a bubble, then dissipated to drip and dissolve down his skin as nature took hold once more. But something about the exaggerated arch felt sarcastic, and Lance found himself fighting the urge to roll his eyes.
He lost sight of the figure he’d spotted through the front window for several long seconds.
The cadence of the overhead birds changed pitch and rhythm. Some of the birds moved location.
Lance held still, eyes forward, scanning the section of the large home that he could see from his vantage.
The better part of a minute passed before the familiar sound of rustling and booted feet rushing up from his flank reached his ears. He counted at least three sets by sound and shifted one hand to press his fingers to the dirt, sending a pulse of energy through the ground for a better check. It wasn’t as effective as Jon’s thing, but it served him well all the same. Warm-blooded life still carried a natural sort of charge.
Four. There were four, one slightly ahead, and two in perfect synch. Those two were what had messed up his count. Herb and Foxe, then. Which undoubtedly meant it was Alex bringing up the rear, because Jon always led. He’d had trouble following even when they were still wet behind the ears.
Lance moved his hand back to his weapon and didn’t flinch when bodies crowded up behind him, attempting to use his cover for their group.
“I count three inside,” Jon whispered at his shoulder. “And whatever problem the birds might give us.”
“I really don’t wanna have to kill all these birds, J,” Lance said. He’d do it, of course. But hell, the birds were just being weaponized against their will. It was wrong.
“Hopefully you won’t have to,” Jon replied. He gave Lance a single pat on the back. “Any movement?”
“Barely.”
“Then we need to breach.” The direction of his words changed, indicating he’d turned his head. “Foxe, Herb, I want you covering the back. No one out, no one in.”
“Here’s hoping they don’t make us thrash the place,” Foxe replied. “Doesn’t look half-bad from the outside.”
“The Leeland’s had taste,” Jon said. “It’s kind of insulting letting these scumbags shit on their memory, honestly.”
“Then we should do a little spring cleaning,” Herb suggested.
Alex snorted.
“I’m game,” Foxe replied. “Just nobody tell my wife I came out here to clean with the guys.”
Lance felt his lips lift in a grin.
“Side entrance?” Jon asked.
“Around to the right,” Lance said.
“I’ll take it,” Alex offered.
Lance pictured Jon nod, but he kept his eyes forward. Jon gave the word, and the guys behind him dispersed in relative silence. There was little anyone could do about blending in, so the best strategy was to move with expediency. Jon held at Lance’s side, and they waited in silence until Jon confirmed everyone was in position.
“How we doin’ this?” Lance asked quietly.
The birds further back, more likely to be in view of the rear of the home, began crying out as if alarmed.
Jon shifted as if settling. “I’m thinking unconventional.” He paused. “I’m going to flood them out.”
Lance blinked before a wicked grin split his lips. “You evil bastard. Thought you liked that house?”
“I’m not emotionally invested,” Jon replied. “I just don’t like these assholes souring the local history.”
“Fair.” Lance couldn’t relate to even that degree of sentimentality, not to anything connected to his formative years. With the possible exception of the dog he’d had to leave behind. But what he could relate to was wanting to protect the area in the present. The man in the nice-looking house had threatened his girl, and his buddy’s girl. That same man was in general aterrible piece of shit human. So, he needed to be gone. For the sake of their community, for the sake of the women who’d come into their lives, and for the sake of every woman who might cross through the region in the next decade.
Seconds passed in stillness, the increasingly familiar sounds of the birds overhead becoming white noise in the background. Until the cadence of their singing lost rhythm and nearly all of them took flight with agitated cries. It was a mass exodus.
