Shattered Lies (Web of Lies #3)(76)
At the sound of heavy footsteps running toward them, Valeria raised her weapon and pressed her right side against the house. Janet dropped to her knee just to Valeria’s left and aimed for the men running toward them. In less than a split second, Valeria and Janet saw who was in front, decided it wasn’t Manuel, and fired. The two men dropped as Val aimed her gun around the corner. Manuel darted behind a solar tower support as a volley of gunfire erupted from the house.
“Manuel Hernandez, DEA, put your weapon down and come out with your hands up,” Valeria yelled a second before the fire reached the gas tank. The car exploded, shooting up and breaking some of the solar panels and rocking the rest of them. Valeria made her move. She ran to where Manuel was hiding right as Manuel stepped out with his knife.
“Watch out!” Janet screamed but it was too late. The knife sliced and Valeria screamed in pain.
* * *
Grant counted five men. Three of his team were left in the building. It should be easy, but the enemy was hiding behind the polished concrete island and an overturned natural wood dining table. An explosion shook the house, sending the solar panels rocking above them. Above all the noise, Grant heard a scream.
“Val!”
“Focus, Grant,” Dalton ordered as he fired a round of shots into the dining table.
“We need to make a move,” Grant said as he looked around the room. “Cover me, and I’ll run for the couch.”
Grant didn’t wait for Dalton to agree because he knew he wouldn’t. The chance of being shot was high, but something needed to be done or Manuel and Roland would escape while they were pinned down in the stairwell.
Grant focused on where he wanted to run and kept low as he darted around the furniture. His shoulder was already sore from the shots Locke fired into his vest in New York, and he wasn’t surprised when he felt bullets slam into him once again.
Grant dove for cover behind the couch. He slid on the polished concrete floors and slammed his shoulder and head into the leather couch. Adrenaline was pumping as he hunkered down and felt the soreness, shortness of breath, and blood. Not all the shots had been stopped by the vest. Blood bubbled from a bullet wound on the outside of his upper arm before disappearing under the dark camo he wore, but he felt the hot sticky liquid running a path down his arm.
Grant held up his hand signaling to Dalton to lay cover before pulling out two handguns and taking a deep breath. Lizzy had taken Grant’s place by the doorjamb and the two opened fire on the two locations on opposite sides of the room. Grant crouched and then exploded. He leapt onto the couch and launched himself up and over the back of it. He sailed through the air and over the table where two men were hiding. Grant’s momentum slowed when a bullet ripped into his leg from behind the counter on the other side of the room at the same time a scream came from the same spot. Grant dropped like a weight to the ground, rolling with guns in hand as he fired.
The two men behind the table hadn’t even turned all the way around when the bullets tore into their heads. Suddenly there was silence as Grant, Dalton, and Lizzy looked around.
Dalton ran across the room with Lizzy right behind him. “Are you hurt?”
“Nah, just a couple holes.” Grant looked down at the blood dripping out the cuff of his sleeve and down at the dark hole in his hip.
“We need to dress that,” Dalton said, pulling out his first-aid kit.
“No time. Find Roland and Manuel. I’m fine.” Grant took a deep breath and pushed himself against the wall to stand. His arm was numb, but his hip was on fire, a burning feeling so hot he swore his blood was going to boil. “See, I’m fine.”
“You’re white and sweat is pouring off your face,” Lizzy pointed out.
“Yet I can still shoot a gun, so let’s go.”
Grant turned to the two doors behind them. “Dalton and I will take this one. Can you get that one?” he asked her.
Lizzy didn’t bother answering. Instead she stepped up to the door and waited for Dalton to get into position. Grant held up an open palm with his pointer finger sticking out. “One,” he silently mouthed before a second finger joined the countdown. On the silent three, Dalton and Lizzy kicked in the doors.
A man’s scream came from the door Dalton had breached as Grant cursed with each step he took. Leaning against the doorjamb on his good side, he swept the area while Dalton bent over the bed and grabbed a pair of very nice loafers. Attached to the loafers were expensive trousers. And in those trousers was Roland Westwood.
“The other room is clear. Window broken. And it’s much nicer than this one. I’m guessing that was Manuel’s room,” Lizzy said as a smile grew on her face watching Dalton trying to wrangle a slippery Roland who was trying to flail out of his grasp.
“Then where is Manuel?” Grant asked.
“Where’s Valeria?” Lizzy asked as they both turned to look out front where the explosion had been.
* * *
The knife tore through her shirt and sliced her shoulder open. “Shit!” Valeria screamed as the pain shot through her. Manuel was already moving. He was running toward the car farthest from the fireball threatening to ignite the second car.
Gunfire sounded as Janet took aim and peppered the car with bullets. Valeria ignored the pain and sprinted after Manuel, who paused momentarily, trying to decide which direction to run now that his two bodyguards were dead. He spun to face her, and the gun he pulled out had Valeria leaping behind the metal base of a solar panel for protection.