Murder Game (GhostWalkers, #7)(61)

“I’ll f*cking put a bullet in your throat,” Kadan warned, feeling deadly with his chest on fire, fighting for every breath. “Go, Gator,” he managed to order into the radio while he extricated himself from the woman’s flopping limbs.

Sharon’s screams would draw everyone for miles. Calmly, Kadan pulled out an air syringe and pressed it against her neck. He didn’t bother to untie her hands. The drug worked fast, halting her scream in mid-shriek so blessed silence fell.

“You bastard. What the hell have done to her?” Don demanded.

Kadan sent him one quelling look, and the man was smart enough to stop talking. Kadan’s chest hurt like a bear, still painful with every breath he drew, but the fire was beginning to subside a bit. He still wanted to rip his vest off, along with the shooter’s head. He pushed down his need to put another bullet in the dead man’s head, most likely Watson’s, and instead, he took care to insure the room was cleared of all enemies so he had only to contend with Tansy’s parents.

“Any more guards in the house?”

“Most are outside. Several are on the roof.”

“Then they’ll be coming at us eventually. Are you going to give me trouble?” As a rule Kadan could read minds in close proximity, especially in a situation like this one where fear and anger were strong emotions, but Don Meadows had some kind of barrier that blocked his thoughts and emotions from escaping.

“Not if you’re getting us out of here.”

“Tansy sent me.”

“She all right?”

Kadan liked him a little better for that. “She’s fine.” He slipped another knife from his belt and cut the tape binding Meadows’s wrists. It was a calculated risk since he couldn’t read the man’s mind, but they had to move fast.

“Coming in.” Ryland’s voice floated over the radio.

“Come on then,” Kadan replied in greeting. “Gator, you clearing a path for us?”

It wasn’t difficult for Gator to scale the fence, using the prongs on his boots and the spikes on his gloves. He went up and over and then signaled to the dogs, stirring them up, commanding them to bark, to roar out challenges from every point in the yard while he sprinted for the helicopter pad. He’d just made it to cover when the guards burst out into the open from every direction, lights once again flooding the compound. This time, the handlers released the dogs from the double fence and brought them leashed, searching for enemies on the grounds.

Gator did a hasty job of planting the explosives, first on the helipad, more on the helicopter, a third along the fence just beyond the pad. He used the blurring speed of the enhanced GhostWalker, cutting through the acreage to get to the opposite side of the estate, throwing voices as he sprinted, disrupting the dogs so they went crazy, howling and barking, raging at their handlers, so that chaos erupted in several hot spots, keeping guards running in every direction but toward Gator or the house.

A guard on the roof must have spotted him, because Nico’s gun boomed and the man nearly toppled at Gator’s feet. Gator kept running. A second shot rang out, and he caught a glimpse of a man falling from the roof to a balcony. The Cajun didn’t hesitate; he put on a burst of speed and zigzagged, just to keep the odds in his favor.

“Thanks, man.”

“No problem.” Nico sounded the same. Matter-of-fact.

It took Gator several minutes to get to the opposite fence, two acres from the helipad, and even he was a bit out of breath after his run. Whipping out a can, he sprayed an entire section of all three fences. A man shouted hoarsely at him, but Gator kept spraying and didn’t turn when Nico’s rifle coughed up another kill.

“Where are you?” Ryland’s voice buzzed in his ear.

“Heading for the garage,” Gator answered and whirled back to make another run. This time he was going to have to first get through the ranks of guards and then enter the garage, where Nico would no longer be able to help him.

He drew two guns and headed for the garage. The guards were gearing up to make a move on the house, knowing through radio silence that their bosses were most likely dead. They were between him and the garage, and he had to get to the Humvee. “I’m on the move now.”

The moment Kadan heard Gator was making a break for the garage, he skirted around the woman on the floor and pulled two guns from his belt. “Search him, Rye.”

He didn’t look back, but broke out of the house on the run, firing relentlessly, choosing his targets as he cleared a path to protect Gator. He could hear Nico’s rifle and the resounding crash of Gator’s guns as they joined in the fight.

“I’m in.” Gator’s voice was a little out of breath. He swore. There was more gunfire and then he spoke again. “Son of a bitch, get out of my ride.” More gunfire came from the vicinity of the garage. “It’s an original, and man, she’s a beaut.”

Kadan gave a small sigh of relief. The intel on the vehicle had been hastily researched, and Tansy hadn’t paid attention to it, she’d never even ridden in it. Don Meadows had the real deal, the military-issue, four-wheel drive, high-mobility, armor-plated, go-over-and-through-anything vehicle. And they were going to need it.

“Blow the helicopter,” Kadan ordered.

Instantly the aircraft lifted into the air, exploded into several large pieces, and settled back down in a fiery orange and black cauldron of flames. The explosion had the desired effect of sending the guards scurrying toward the ocean side of the property.