Page 102 of Enemy of My Enemy
Scott ducked back to the group as Welby took his place. “Looks like a coup is in the works.” He glanced quickly at Sergey, then back to Jack and Ethan. “Our fighters launched from Incirlik a few minutes ago. They’ll be here in ten minutes. The quick reaction force is locked down at the airport. We’ve got to get clear of here and survive until they can get us some cover and an evac.”
“Is that all?” Sergey snapped. He took over from Jack, slapping Sasha’s pale cheeks gently and holding his face, staring into his bloodshot eyes.
“Do you know another way out of here?” Scott ignored Sergey’s snap.
Heavy footfalls echoed beyond the kitchen, at the front of the house, and gunfire snapped on the private drive. Sharp bellows in Russian, interspersed with the crack of gunfire from Welby, broke over the group. Through the destroyed back of the retreat, the roar of the fighter jets circling overhead drowned everything out for a moment.
Sergey frowned. “Down the shore. There’s a boathouse within the grounds of the retreat. We can take the boats away from here.” He helped Sasha stand until Sasha waved him off.
“They’d have it surrounded by now. We’d be walking straight into their forces.”
Sergey snarled. “Would you like to die here, in this kitchen?” Bullets rang through the house. Heavy thumps shook the walls. “It is reinforced, but it will not hold for long.”
“They will use grenades any minute to flush us from here,” Sasha ground out.
Scott looked to Ethan.
What other options were there? Ethan reached again for Jack, keeping him close.
They had to get moving, get out of the killbox before they were completely surrounded. He nodded.
“We’ll have to fight our way out of here. Through the back. Stay in the shadows, get to the tree line, and then take them out when they pursue. Agents, cover Vigilant, Vigor, and Potomac.” Scott nodded to Irwin, using his codename, and then grabbed two agents and spun them around, shoving them in front of Sergey. “You two, cover him.”
Sasha stayed glued to Sergey’s side, gripping his rifle in blood-drenched hands. Ethan grabbed a kitchen knife from the counter as Scott and Welby led the group to the doorway, scanning left and right in the darkness.
Welby fired, and across the room, a Russian soldier dropped. Bullets flew again, slamming into the walls around them.
“Go!” Scott shouted over his shoulder. “We’ll cover!”
A line of agents squeezed around him, firing with Scott and Welby and dragging Jack and Ethan with them. In front of Ethan, Daniels had Jack bent over, lying almost fully on top of him as they ran for the blown-out hole in the side of the retreat. Glass and shorn steel crunched under their feet, and splintered wood as they ran across the destroyed deck. Pine needles and the dewy carpet of the forest softened their footfalls as they reached the woods. Overhead, fighter jets screamed. Everyone hunkered down as they reached the cover of the tree line.
Ethan crouched beside Jack, peering back at the house. Scott and Welby were firing and running, dashing away from the retreat and toward the edge of the forest. Soldiers followed them.
“He’s bringing them to us,” Daniels called. He shoved Jack down, flat on the ground behind him. “Everyone get ready.” Weapons rose.
Bouncing beams from the Russians’ flashlights darted through thick tree trunks. Musty air and dust collected on the back of Ethan’s tongue, mixing with the tang of adrenaline. In his ears, his heart thundered.
“Fire,” Daniels breathed, once Scott was close enough to nod. He and Welby hit the ground. The agents kneeling in the trees opened up, gunfire slamming into the Russians chasing them.
The Russians fell, one by one, until the forest was silent again.
Daniels stayed with Jack as Ethan went to Scott. Dirt clung to Scott’s rumpled suit and streaked across his face. Plaster coated his lips. Ethan helped his friend up, pulling him from the ground as Scott breathed hard.
Ethan turned away, heading back for Jack.
Scott went down to the ground again a second later.
A Russian soldier, not dead yet, had kicked out his feet and yanked Scott down, leaping on top of him. He straddled his hips and shoved the barrel of his rifle under Scott’s chin, his finger half-clenching on the trigger.
Before anyone else could react, Ethan grabbed the Russian’s hair and jerked him back, slamming his knife into the base of his skull in one fast move. He ripped the blade out and shoved it into the side of his neck, severing his artery. Blood arced, spraying over Scott and coating Ethan’s hands.
The soldier jolted once and went limp, and Ethan tossed him to the side.
Scott’s saucer-wide eyes and blood-spattered face stared up at him, and beyond, Jack watched, frozen in a crouch behind Daniels.
Ethan stared back. Blood dripped from his fingers. The world around him roared, his senses heightened to every sound, every sight. His heart and his soul fixed on Jack, one thought, one purpose echoing through him:get Jack to safety. Get my love out of here.
One of the agents ahead called out, signaling the path to the boathouse was clear.
