Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Buck crouched on the floor, Tierney pinned under one arm, his Sig in his left hand. Dalton crawled over to the window, sighting lines out of it as rain blew in through the shattered glass, the air thick with sea salt and cordite.
Red lasers painted the ceiling, finally working down the wall, the mist highlighting the beams like wavering bits of crimson string. More thumps sounded above them, the occasional voice working its way in.
Dalton chanced a quick peek, ducking when the first line of suppressive fire sparked off the frame, cracking the bits of glass that hadn’t shattered, yet.
He cocked his head, cursing under his breath.
“I’ve got movement on the stairs. More men circling around back.
No way we’re going in either of those directions. ”
Buck nodded. “Roof’s out, too. And staying is just putting us in a coffin for them. Which means we’re either jumping off the deck, hoping we hit water, or finding a way into the boathouse beneath us.”
Dalton pointed to the mat by the sliding door to the deck.
“There’s a hatch under the rug. It drops into the slip they added when they rebuilt this place after it got destroyed with those RPGs, but I’m pretty sure Saylor has one of her Zodiacs tied up inside.
Something about Zain putting a few bullet holes in it.
We might be able to drop onto the canopy. ”
“As long as it gets us clear, we’re in.”
“I’ll cover. You and Tierney go first.”
Buck grunted, but he knew better than to argue. Overlooking the fact Dalton had always been his team’s overwatch, the man was ten kinds of stubborn, and nothing short of biblical intervention would sway him from being their last line of defense. “Don’t you fucking die on me.”
Dalton snorted, lining up the door with his Sig, rifle slung over his back, though Buck knew the man would be sighting down the scope before the night was through.
Buck grabbed Tierney, moving with her over to the glass doors. Bullets stitched through the room, cutting a path through the drywall as photos dropped and shattered, more glass splintering across the floor.
Tierney tugged the mat aside, twisted the latch, then opened the hatch. A blast of diesel-choked air slammed into them, mixed with brine and wet concrete. Hulking shadows laced the room, the steady patter of rain echoing throughout.
Buck motioned to the opening. “Doesn’t sound like it’s been breached yet, but… I’d shoot first, worry later. And watch your six until I get down there.”
Tierney looked as if she might argue the order before sliding into the opening, boots kicking at the air. She palmed each side, then pushed off, hanging for a moment before dropping into the dark. A dull thump sounded a second later followed by boots scuffing on fiberglass.
He waited until a hushed, “Clear,” carried up to him, before twisting to face Dalton. “We’re clear. Get your ass over here before they bust through the door.”
Dalton waved him on. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Buck grunted but palmed the lip, dropping down just as the door crashed open, a group of men charging through. Shots boomed overhead before something clicked across the floor, erupting a moment later in a blast of white light that flashed through the hatch, a shrill tone rattling through his skull.
He rolled, legs hanging off the Zodiac’s roof, working out how to jump back up once his brain stopped shaking, back Dalton up, when his buddy slid through the hatch, landing on the roof with a firm smack.
Buck grabbed Dalton’s wrist before he continued off the other side, cracked his head on the concrete slip, pulling him clear a second before a spray of brass poured out the opening, punching a line through the Zodiac’s canopy.
Tierney returned fire, capped one of the mercs, left him hanging partway down from the ceiling.
They scrambled off the boat, water from the slip sloshing against the lip, masking their footfalls as they paralleled the wall, slipping into the shadows.
Flashlight beams from the pier bore through the gloom, lighting up the windows as the door to Saylor’s office burst open, an alarm wailing through the building before cutting off.
Buck made a split decision — charged the doorway, caught the next wave of armed men from the side as they swept into the room, breaking their formation.
He knocked two off their feet, plowing into the third like a battering ram, slamming him into the wall.
Tierney and Dalton jumped into the fray a moment later, moving through the ranks like machines.
Tierney launched onto one of the merc’s shoulders, tipping him back, all but snapping his neck as they landed on the floor, his head cracking against the cement.
Buck focused on the other two, taking a few hits to his ribs in order to get in close.
He dodged the next attack, landed an open-hand hit to the creep’s throat, reeling him back as he elbowed his friend.
An arm bar and a lift, and the guy’s shoulder popped, the snap resonating through the air.
A knee and a couple strikes, and he was down, blood splattering across the floor, legs twitching.
The first guy rallied, fell a few hits later, his own knife lodged in his throat.
Pain flared through Buck’s arm as he turned, fists up, his weight on his toes, but Dalton and Tierney had already dropped the others. Buck checked the front office, footsteps pounding the pavement as another group gathered outside, their silhouettes blocking out the window.
Dalton motioned to the back rolling door, hoofed it across the open space before pressing his back into the wall.
He peered out the salt-smeared window, ducking when a beam traced the edge of the glass, nearly catching him in the spotlight.
Gravel crunched beyond the door, vanishing beneath the surge of the waves against the pier.
The door behind them opened, that group finally spilling into the boathouse, laser dots mapping out their progression. Dalton took a few lunging strides, leaping onto the Zodiac, then back onto the roof. He readied his rifle, tracking the men as they quickstepped through the other room.
Tierney whistled softly, jumping into the water next to the Zodiac, drawing in a breath then slowly sinking below the surface, an oily residue reflecting off the top. Buck tucked in opposite her, Sig at the ready.
Movement.
Darting through the door, fanning out each side, a couple heading for the boat.
A heavy silence settled around them, only the occasional scuff breaking it.
Buck held firm, waiting to see if one of his teammates made a move, when the guy across from him stopped with his back to the slip, boots positioned at the edge.
Behind him, Tierney rose out of the black water like a wraith, hooking his vest, dragging him violently beneath the surface. The splash alerted the guy near the door, and he turned, pointed his gun at the water.
No hesitation.
Buck simply aimed, dropped the guy with a double tap to the head. Dalton followed suit, downing the remaining two men with quick, tight shots. The report cracked through the air, answered shouts sounding from outside.
Buck raced over to the water, catching Tierney when she surfaced, teeth chattering, water sheeting off her skin. She climbed out, tripping against Buck, looking worse than after they’d dove into the chopper.
Dalton jumped down, covering the doorway when the rolling metal door rattled, something clicking into place on the other side.
Bomb.
The word formed before Buck could voice it.
He spun, curling Tierney into his chest as he took Dalton to the floor, angling over them a split second before the door exploded, shrapnel slicing through the boathouse as smoke rolled across the room.
Flames curled up from the pieces still clinging to the frame, a deafening roar echoing in his head.
Pain sparked through his skull, nothing quite functioning as he pushed to his hands and knees, all his years with MARSOC kicking in. Beams lit up the smoke and ash, bouncing back as more men stepped through the debris.
He turned, fired a few rounds, sent them diving for cover. Stars flashed before his eyes, ears still ringing, as he staggered to his feet, laid down more cover fire.
Dalton stumbled up beside him, lifting Tierney and carrying her behind the hull as more brass chewed across the floor where they’d been lying a few seconds ago. Buck backed his way to them, mag emptied, nothing but Dalton’s rifle left between them.
Dalton moved forward, limbs shaking, a few pieces of metal peppered down one arm when sirens wailed in the distance. Static crackled in the air, a garbled message sounding above the ocean waves before the men folded into the night.
Smoke burned a line down Buck’s throat as Dalton stumbled forward, each step stronger than the last. He barreled out the opening with his rifle snugged against his shoulder, head on a swivel.
Buck stayed on Dalton’s six, alternating angles, looking for any hint of movement. Lights bobbed on the water, the boat’s engine growling above the thunder.
Dalton quickstepped to the end of the pier, sighting the vessel as the bow tipped up, the outboards spitting out a rooster tail of white water. The boat surged forward, bouncing over the waves, quickly picking up speed as he froze, scope pressed to his eye, hands rock steady.
Some asshole on the back fired off several rounds, the bullets spraying up silver tufts in the black water. Dalton didn’t move, didn’t breathe, just slid his finger inside the trigger, squeezed.
A crack, and the guy jerked, toppling back, releasing a spray of rounds that ate through the canopy, had one of the other men tumbling over the side. Another shot, and one of the engines coughed, then died, the boat barely making it around the rocky shore before vanishing into the night.