Page 19 of No Vow Broken

“Emilio,” I called out and the priest turned around. “I wondered if I might have a word with you.”

“Of course.” He’d just taken two steps toward me when I heard several distinct pops. The sound was unmistakable—an assault rifle—and then a mini explosion.

Instinctively, I dove toward Emilio, bringing him to the ground and shielding him with my body just as the lights in the house went out.

“What’s happening?” he cried out from underneath me.

I ignored him for the moment, needing to focus on the direction of the shots. The first set had been farther away in the distance, but there had been a third round that was much closer, just beyond the living room and to the right of the front door.

Shouts of surprise came from the dining room and upstairs, where one of the Secret Service agents was located. I could hear muffled cursing. I wanted nothing more to race into the dining room to make sure Lexi was safe, but that wasn’t the smart course of action, and I knew it. We were obviously under attack, and without a gun, I couldn’t do much against the weapons facing us. I had to trust that her instincts for survival were as good as always.

What I really needed was situational information. After the initial burst of gunfire, it was eerily quiet. I figured the agent upstairs, the detail lead, would have more information on our situation, and I needed that badly before those outside started shooting again. They were probably assessing their initial attacks while keeping their locations and objectives hidden. This meant that we were facing professionals. This situation was getting worse, and we didn’t have long to respond.

“Stay here and stay down,” I hissed to Emilio as I dashed toward the stairs in a crouch. I immediately collided with the first lady and her protector, Agent Glass, both barely illuminated by a flickering candle in a wall sconce.

Agent Glass had her gun out, and when she pointed it at me, I took a step back and held up both my hands. “What’s going on?” I asked.

She lowered the gun but did not holster it. “We’re under attack. I must get the first lady to the safe room. Stand aside, please.”

I moved away as she hustled Shannon upstairs. As soon as they passed, I followed them upstairs, staying in a crouch. When I got to the top, I heard a male agent barking orders.

“Don’t come in here,” the agent warned. “Just get her into the safe room now. Stay out of sight, if possible. I just requested emergency counterassault support, but with the weather and the distance, it will be at least fifteen minutes, probably longer, until they arrive. We have to hold out that long.”

“Understood,” Agent Glass responded, followed by running footsteps.

I climbed the stairs and cautiously approached the open door on my right.

“Agent?” I called out. “This is Slash, the groom. I have special training, as do several others of us here tonight. We can assist you. Can I come in?”

There was a pause, and then the agent spoke. “Only if you stay low. There’s a sniper who’s got me pinned down, and he’s shooting at any movement in this room. He likely has a lowlight or infrared scope.”

I thought it odd he hadn’t moved out of the room, given the situation, but I wasn’t privy to the Secret Service protocols. Crouching, I carefully entered the room. I could see the curtains at the window billowing in the wan light of a nearly full moon that had somehow managed to eke through a thinning in the fog. The agent was a shadow sitting with his back to the wall holding the right side of his neck with his left hand. His head was partially slumped to the side.

“Agent? Are you hit?”

“Yes, my neck.”

So that’s why he was staying put. As I got closer, my eyes had adjusted and there was just enough light to see he’d been hit and had a bloody neck wound. It wasn’t pulsing, so the shot hadn't hit an artery, but the agent would need medical help soon. The silence outside was frightening. It meant our attackers were positioning themselves for their next actions and looking for a response from us. If none, they would move very quickly.

I knelt next to him. “How can I help?”

“I’m not sure,” the agent replied. “I can’t reach the cops outside, which likely means they’re down. Agent Flanigan, our agent on patrol, made a brief call to say he’d been shot before he went radio silent. I presume he’s down as well. Agent Troy is covering the back entrance in the dining room and keeping an eye on the kitchen entrance as well. He’s reporting no activity, but he is staying low, as it’s clear they have night scopes. I was trying to use mine to assess the number and location of the attackers when I was shot. I must assume they’ve had us under surveillance for some time.”

That was ominous news. “Can you still maneuver?”

“I don’t think so. I can probably use my handgun, but I am an awful shot left-handed. I’m also worried about how much blood I’m losing. I don’t want to pass out.”

I took off my jacket, folded it, and held it against his neck. “Hold this against the wound. Who’s covering the front and side entrances?

“As far as I know, no one.”

Well, that was not good.“What weapons do we have?” I asked.

“Each agent has a nine-millimeter Glock. All but Glass have a FN P90 submachine gun. I also have a SR-16 rifle here with a night scope. But I’m out of the countersniper business for the rest of the evening. I am hoping that they don’t realize that yet and that’s why they’re being cautious on approach. That won’t last much longer. I expect they will attack the side entrances simultaneously intending to overwhelm us.”

“Agreed,” I said. “We probably have only another few minutes at most before they begin their assault in earnest. We have no idea how many there are?”

“No. But if I were in their shoes, I wouldn’t do this with less than six. On the other hand, it couldn’t be too many or they would have risked us picking up on their presence.”

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