Page 149 of Secret Weapon

Where were the others?

Spider had presumably taken out the guard upstairs, and we’d seen seven men besides Ilya standing around down here.That left three.Two had moved into the hallway, curious about the commotion by the buffet, and one was unaccounted for.Where had he gone?

“We’re missing a guard.I last saw him heading for the kitchen.”

The atmosphere in the room had changed.Guests inside were beginning to realise there was something very wrong—the sober ones at least—and they started whispering amongst themselves.Where did those security guys go?What’s happening outside?Is someone trying to break in?

“We can’t get out,” Spider said.“We’ll have to hide.”

My operations rarely went wrong, but when they did… This was the runaway freight train of fuck-ups.Could it get any worse?

Yes, of course it could.

The cops hammered on the door.“Long Beach PD.”

The guards in the hallway formed up on either side of the entrance, and one of them drew out a gun.Terrific.If we weren’t careful, we were about to have dead police on our hands, and I really didn’t want to be on the national news.We had to act now.In ten seconds, it would be too late.

“Uh, excuse me?”I covered the ground quickly, and I didn’t need to look to know Black was at my side.“What the hell is happening?”

“Get back in there.”The nearest goon jerked his head towards the living room.

“How dare you speak to me like that?”

As he swung the gun around, I forced his arm upwards.In close quarters, I almost preferred to face a gun over a knife.Knock the muzzle by a few degrees and a bullet would miss, but try that trick with a knife, and you’d get cut.I took a leaf out of Nine’s playbook and headbutted the asshole, kneed him in the balls at the same time, and then clocked him with a handy-dandy statue from a nearby side table.Black took his guy out with a single punch.Show-off.

At least now I had a Glock.Thanks, dude.

A burst of static sounded in my ear.No, not static.Splashing.

“Alex is in the water,” Pale told us.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

Then shouting, from the rear this time.

“Everybody get over there!”

“Hostile on the rear terrace,” Pale announced as Alaric told Hallie to stay down.They were both outside—how much danger were they in?“Looks like Timonenko.”

Another bang on the front door.“Long Beach PD.Open up.”

Then the gunfire started.

One shot, then a pause, followed by an answering volley.Screams.A muttered curse that could have been Alaric or Pale, but was probably Alaric because Pale’s words would have been more colourful.Another single shot.

“Two down.One’s terminal.Alex is still swimming.”

A whisper.“Ilya didn’t look in the shower.He left.”

Left and went where?

The runaway train was speeding up.Adrenaline flowed as Black and I swivelled towards the stairs, borrowed weapons in our hands.Was Ilya about to come flying in our direction?Dan had Armand on his feet, and he didn’t have to fake his terror as she shoved him into the downstairs bathroom.I had a feeling he wouldn’t try to invite himself along on any more ops in the future.

Stairs made a terrible meeting place, especially when you had the disadvantage of being below the enemy.Better to wait in the hallway and catch the incoming team by surprise.Out the back, guests continued to scream and cry, and from Alaric’s hasty orders, I gathered he was treating a gunshot victim.He had medical training—we all did—but he’d need first aid supplies ASAP.

And then I heard music.Was that… Was that “Never Gonna Give You Up”?Seriously?We’d just been Rickrolled in the middle of a gunfight?

“Son of a flaming sphincter.”

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