Page 93 of Promises to Keep

“How’s it going, Master Cook?”

“Killed two, holy shit, this is insane!”

Shots were fired from the windows of the house. A long low building, smoke rising from chimneys at both ends. I dropped from Sunny and ducked behind a wall, leaned out, took a shot, missed, ducked back behind the wall and then shot again. A man yelled.

I charged the house on foot, making it tae the door. “Front door!”

Fraoch yelled, “Backdoor!” I heard gunfire through the house.

I snuck a look inside: a dark interior, dust floatin’ in the sunlight from the door, the smell of smoke from the hearth.

My back pressed tae the wall, I concentrated. The world had slowed, I gained m’battle focus.

I smelled the stench of a man.

I settled m’breath and heard his fast breathin’ on the other side of the wall, inches away.

I concentrated on that spot, drew in a deep slow breath, then spun around the doorjamb, and fired—

He slumped dead tae the ground.

The creaking wood of the footsteps as a man emerged from a back room, we exchanged fire, and I shot him through the head — blastin’ him back against the wall.

Fraoch’s voice: “Got him?”

“Aye.” I walked through the room, steppin’ over bodies, checkin’ behind furniture. “This room is clear.” I crept down the hall and checked through the first door. “Two rooms clear.”

James’s voice: “Holy shit, there are three here!” The sound of shots rang through the radio.

Fraoch’s voice: “Headed that way, Quentin ye see them?”

Colonel Quentin’s voice: “I have one in my sights.” A distant gunshot fired.

James’s voice, broken with static, then: “...splashed the wall with his brains, two to...”

I crept down the hall to another room, the wooden boards creaking and shifting under my weight. I entered, gun first around the corner, slowly, listening. There were bunks here — a man rushed me from behind. He was on me. A blow tae my head.

A second of confusion as my eyes lost focus.

I plowed m’elbow back, knocking the wind from him, and fought blow-tae-blow against him until I had him down and senseless.

I disarmed him, scanned the room, then yelled intae his face, “Where is Lady Mairead?”

He whimpered.

His eyes glanced past my shoulder. I turned tae the open window in time tae catch a glimpse of muzzle flash.

I lunged off him, behind a bunk. Bullets chipped the wall overhead.

The man lumbered up tae flee, I fired and killed him before he made it tae the door.

I said: “Fraoch — man outside!”

“Busy!”

I exhaled, crept through the room tae the door. “Bunkhouse clear.”

Shots were fired at me from the back of the stable. I dove out, firing, making it tae a small outbuilding, yelling: “Colonel Quentin! Can ye get stable boy?”

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