The Rescue(111)

“I’ll get right on it,” said Harcourt, sinking into the chair.

He briefly considered blowing his own brains out but quickly dismissed the notion. He had enough money to buy a small country—not to mention the army to defend it. Nobody put Jacob Harcourt out of business that easily.





CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

Decker raced over to Pierce, who was leaned up against the wall next to the study door.

“What do you think?” said Decker, crouching next to him.

“I think I have hurt feelings,” said Pierce. “Harlow forgot all about me.”

“Very funny,” said Decker. “What about our breakout plan? Do we need to modify?”

“Negative. There’s only one way in the house right now, and every one of those mercs is headed for it. Take a peek,” said Pierce, nodding at the window. “We also have a dozen or so injured men surrounding the great hall.”

Decker glanced out of the window, careful to stay hidden. A platoon-size group of dark figures swarmed across the patio, headed in the direction of the service entrance. Beyond the seemingly endless patio, six four-seat ATVs sat parked in the grass, offering an irresistible temptation.

“I assume you saw the ATVs?”

“I did,” said Pierce. “And I suddenly don’t feel like running ten football fields to get out of here.”

“Set the charge. We’ll let them fill up the great hall before making our move.”

“Got it,” said Pierce, producing a small block of C-4. “Think it’s enough for these windows?”

“There’s more in the desk if you need it.”

“I still say we level this place.”

“Trust me,” said Decker. “I want nothing more than to bury those two assholes alive and burn this house down on top of them—but this was part of the deal.”

A minute later, with the charge set on the window and the lights turned off, they waited in the dark behind Harcourt’s overturned desk. Pierce watched the handheld screen for signs of activity in the great hall, while Decker kept his rifle pointed at the safe room door, on the off chance Harcourt got a crazy idea.

“I’m starting to get movement around the great hall.”

“Hit the window,” said Decker.

Pierce ducked below the top of the desk and activated the personal locator beacon attached to the shoulder strap of his vest. The room exploded a second later, glass and wood fragments snapping against the thick wooden slab in front of them and generally shredding the rest of the room.

Pierce peeked over the splintered edge of the desk. “We’re in business.”

The entire floor-to-ceiling window was gone, along with half of the wall.

“I guess that was enough,” said Decker.

“Ready for round two?” said Pierce, switching frequencies on the digital detonator.

“Please tell me it’s the Steinway.”

“It’s the Steinway.” Pierce clicked the trigger three times.

The study door rattled from a bizarrely resonant explosion that Decker hoped would keep the rest of Harcourt’s security team away from the study. They moved quickly to the scorched windowsill, climbing through and hopping ten feet down into the mulch beds next to the eastern edge of the patio.

A waist-high stone wall bordering most of the patio kept them concealed from the house until they reached the ATVs. The house was oddly quiet given the level of havoc and destruction they had wreaked inside. Maybe Harcourt’s security team had finally decided enough was enough. Decker peeked over the top of the wall, scanning the driveway zone for guards, while Pierce searched for an ATV with the keys left behind.

Two figures dashed out of the service entrance, taking cover behind the closest SUV.

Decker sighted in on the hood, preparing to fire if they exposed their heads, when a bullet cracked into the top of the wall next to his left shoulder, pelting him with stone fragments. He shifted his aim to the study window, not finding a target. A second bullet snapped inches from his head, striking one of the ATVs. The guards behind the SUV started firing on full automatic, driving Decker below the wall.

“How are we doing with my ride?” he yelled.

“They took the keys with them!” said Pierce, moving between ATVs in a crouch.

“Careful! There’s a sharpshooter out there! I can’t find him.”

Pierce scrambled behind the closest ATV, a bullet flattening its tire at the same time. “Thanks for the warning!” he yelled. “Rooftop. Eastern chimney.”

Decker moved several feet down the wall to throw the sharpshooter off target and eased his rifle upward until the top of the chimney appeared in the illuminated reticle of the ACOG sight. He rose less than an inch and started pressing the trigger repeatedly, hitting the base of the chimney with half of the magazine. Without assessing the impact of his bullets on the sharpshooter, he shifted back to the SUV and fired the remaining fifteen rounds.

After a quick magazine swap, he moved back to his original position on the wall and checked the chimney in time to see a dark figure tumble off the roof and hit the ground near the study.

“I found one with keys!” Pierce called.

Decker emptied most of the second magazine in a five-second fusillade directed at the SUV, hammering the hood and peppering its bullet-resistant windshield. When an ATV engine started up behind him, he fired the last few rounds and took off, looking for Pierce. Jumping into the passenger seat, he reloaded his rifle as Pierce floored the engine, and the ATV struggled forward.