Chapter 42
The living room descended into absolute chaos. Cole didn't retreat from the smoke; he surged into it. He held his breath, his eyes stinging, operating entirely on spatial memory and auditory cues.
He heard the heavy, synchronized footsteps of heavily armored operatives breaching the threshold. They were wearing advanced thermal optics, cutting through the tear gas with ease.
Cole didn't fire blindly. He dropped into a low crouch, sweeping the leg of the first operative who stepped through the door. As the man crashed to the hardwood floor, Cole drove his combat knife directly into the vulnerable gap between the man's helmet and tactical vest.
"Hostile in the smoke!" a second operative shouted, raising a suppressed submachine gun.
Pfft. Pfft.
Donovan fired two precise shots from the hallway, dropping the second operative instantly.
"Sarah, go!" Cole yelled over the chaos.
Down the hall, Ava emerged from the bedroom, clutching a terrified Nora to her chest. "Cole! What's happening?!"
"We have to move, Ava!" Sarah shouted, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the back door. "Keep your head down!"
Cole grabbed a fallen operative's submachine gun, rolling behind the heavy oak sofa as a fresh wave of suppressive fire chewed through the drywall.
"They have us outgunned, Boss," Donovan grunted, taking cover behind the kitchen island. "Thermal signatures indicate at least twenty hostiles moving across the lawn. They aren't local mercenaries. This is a highly coordinated black-ops unit."
"We fall back to the guest house," Cole ordered, laying down a heavy barrage of cover fire through the shattered window. "On my mark, we break for the tree line."
"I'm out of ammo on the sidearm," Donovan warned.
"Take this," Cole tossed her a spare magazine. "Mark!"
Cole and Donovan broke from cover, sprinting through the acrid smoke and bursting out the rear door into the freezing night air.
The yard was lit up by the harsh, sweeping beams of tactical flashlights. Sarah and Ava were already halfway to the guest house, moving desperately through the snow.
"Target acquired! Do not fire on the child!" a distorted voice boomed over a localized megaphone.
Cole spun around, raising his stolen weapon. He fired ruthlessly into the advancing line of operatives, dropping two more men into the snow. He wasn't trying to win a firefight in the open; he was buying seconds for his family.
"Get in!" Sarah screamed, holding the heavy reinforced door of the guest house open.
Donovan shoved Ava and Nora inside, turning to provide cover for Cole.
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Cole sprinted across the snow, diving through the doorway just as a hail of bullets shredded the wooden frame. Sarah slammed the heavy steel door shut, engaging the heavy magnetic deadbolts.
"Down to the cellar," Cole commanded, his chest heaving as he reloaded his weapon. "They are going to bring heavy ordnance."
