Page 4 of No Quarter

The adrenaline and fear of seeing his family held hostage woke him up.

A creak sounded from behind him.

Turning as fast as he could, he saw a man in a white mask leap out from behind the dining room door.

The intruder was powerful and quick, and he lurched toward Charlie with a handgun in his left hand.

The man pulled the trigger.

Charlie batted the man’s hand away, the bullet from the gun lodging in the ceiling. The loud bang and splintering of plaster made Charlie’s children scream through their taped lips.

Forming his right fingers into a spear shape, Charlie saw his opportunity. The intruder had lifted his chin too high, exposing his neck.

He thrusted his hand into the man’s throat with a snake strike. The man let out a gasp of pain and surprise. Charliethen pushed forward, relentlessly. He kicked with his right foot, deep into the man’s stomach, and then pulled the gun from his fingers.

The masked attacker fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

But it wasn’t over.

Somewhere else in the house, there was movement. A cold sweat broke out across Charlie’s body. He was used to being in life and death situations, but never with his family’s lives hanging by a thread. This was a fear he had never experienced before.

There’s someone else in the house,he thought as he rushed around to Angela, tearing the tape from her wrists with his bare hands and then removing another strip of it from her mouth.

“The kids,” she said, gasping for air.

Charlie reached over and removed the tape from his children, Richard and Georgina. Little Georgina, who was only three, was sobbing uncontrollably as Angela picked her up.

“Are you okay?” Charlie whispered to Richard, but the five-year-old could only put his arms around his dad and bury his face into his shoulder.

“It’s all right,” Charlie offered, soothingly.

But Charlie knew that itwasn’tall right. Footsteps were moving down the hallway outside of the dining room. There were several other intruders in the house.

He needed back up.

Charlie took out his phone and unlocked it with his fingerprint.

“Are you calling the police?” Angela whispered, now cradling both her children.

“It’s my panic button,” he replied, activating an app with one push of his thumb.

It was something he’d had set up after joining the FBI. With one press, it alerted the local police department that there wasan intruder in his house and sent an automated message to his partner, Valerie.

Charlie put the phone back in his pocket and then pulled the tape off of his brother.

“I…” Marvin said.

“Save it for later,” said Charlie, angrily. “You know how to fire a gun, so here.” He passed Marvin the handgun he had taken from the masked man.

Charlie was furious with Marvin.

His brother had been staying at Charlie’s house while he was away on a case. But Charlie knew this had been a mistake. Marvin had a checkered past involving criminals, and now it seemed obvious that those same criminals were who had tied up his family.

Charlie moved to the door of the dining room. He listened. His hearing had always been far above average and knowing how his houseshouldhave sounded let him identify where other intruders were, to a degree.

“One in the hallway,” he whispered to Marvin. “One in the kitchen … I think another upstairs. There may be more, I can’t be certain.”

“What should I do?” Marvin asked, checking that the handgun was loaded.

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