The Colonel's Widow?

Reassuring words lodged in his throat. If he said them, they could turn into yet another lie. She needed time to heal, time to learn that she could trust him.

But right now time was a luxury they couldn’t afford, because Novus had found them. So he said nothing.

She lowered her gaze and closed the door.

Rook stood there until he heard the massive lock click into place, then he mounted the stairs.

He tapped the ultralight communications transmitter in his ear.

“Deke?” he muttered.

“Front room. And whisper, dammit. You’re busting my eardrums.” Deke’s words slid through his head as if they were his own thoughts.

“Irina’s secure,” he mouthed, barely making a sound. “I’m in the kitchen. Whatcha got?”

“I see two, slinking around behind the trees.”

Deke’s voice was clear and as smooth as silk. These were damn good units. A far cry from the staticky ones they’d used during their Air Force missions.

“I figure there are four of them,” Deke continued. “And two of us. That makes it even odds.”

Rook’s mouth twitched. “You’re giving those four guys a lot of credit.”

“Yeah, well, they may have explosives. How do you want to handle this?”

“The two you don’t see—where are they?”

“My guess—one at the front door and one at the back, waiting for us to come out. I’m betting Novus wants you alive, so they’ll try tear gas first. Then escalate to stun grenades if they have to.”

“What about these grenades we’ve got?”

“New toy, courtesy of Homeland Security. Works like a regular grenade. The flash blinds the enemy for thirty seconds or so. The goggles you’ve got hanging around your neck will protect you.”

“What if they have the goggles, too?”

“These babies are brand-new technology. Prototypes. Theory is you can stare at the sun for hours with them on. I doubt Novus has them yet. We don’t have them—officially. Whoa!”

“What?”

“They’re on the move.”

“Deke, go get Rina and get the hell out of here. Through the basement into the barn. The keys are in the rental car. I’ll hold them off.”

“The hell you will! Four against one’s not the same as four against two. You’ll be playing right into their hands. You get Irina, I’ll hold off these—” Deke spilled a few choice curse words. “I’ve gotten away from Novus twice before. I can do it again.”

“With that arm you may not be able to handle the 416. It’s heavy.”

“You don’t worry about me. I can handle anything you can.”

Rook heard something clatter against the kitchen window. “Something hit the window. Probably tear gas.”

“Rook—go! Take Irina and get to safety. They’re after you, not me.”

“No way. We’ll take them together and then I’ll get Rina. As long as she stays in the safe room, she’ll be fine.”

“Unless one of our visitors decides to check out the barn.”

“The steel door from the barn into the safe room is rated for twenty minutes against dynamite.”

“Good to know. So how do we want to take these guys? Stay together or split up?”

“You take the front. I’ll take the back and then we’ll catch the middle two in a crossfire. No casualties unless absolutely necessary. I want them in custody, spilling their guts.”

He heard a hissing noise outside the window. “There goes the tear gas. They wasted that one.”

“I’m at the door. You?”

Rook flattened his back against the kitchen door, mentally measuring the distance out to the yard. The door opened onto a small stoop and then down five steps. “Yeah. See anything?”

“Nah. I say we go on three. If you spot one, try the flash grenade, but be ready with firepower. I’ll be shooting down from the porch.” The edge in Deke’s voice cut like a razor blade through Rook’s head. He knew the tone. Deke was prepared to die to protect him. Rook felt the same way.

But it wasn’t going to happen. Not today—not ever. Deke had every reason to stay alive. He had Mindy and their newborn baby boy.

And Rook had—He gripped his machine pistol in both hands and shoved those thoughts away. “On my mark,” he growled.

“One.” He tensed his thighs and pushed to a standing position, then pulled the night-vision goggles over his eyes. It took him a second to adjust to the Matrix-like look of the world through the infrared lenses.

“Two.” He turned the key in the back door and reached for the knob, ready to angle around. Ready for anything. A heady rush of adrenaline buzzed through him, making him super-aware. He heard the whisper-light hum of a mosquito, noticed the faint cold breeze on his neck.

He took a long, slow breath.

“Three!” He slung the door open and slid around it, his finger on the trigger of the HK 416. The 416 was a heavy piece of equipment and carried plenty of ammo, but right now its weight was comforting.

A second wave of adrenaline jacked up his heart rate and sharpened his already-honed senses.

Deke’s labored breathing sounded like a windstorm above the sawing of his own breaths. His nose picked up the fresh, earthy smell of rain from the brief thunderstorm. His trigger finger tightened.

In one long stride, he crossed the stoop and put his back against a wooden pillar.

Poised to shoot, he swung out and swept the backyard with his gaze and his gun. It was empty—no shadowy figures, no sound other than rain dripping off eaves and tree branches.

Where were they? If they were his men, they’d be covering the main entrances to the cabin.

He didn’t like that he couldn’t see them. Had they circled around to the barn? Or was Deke wrong? Were there just two of them?

He shook his head. Deke was rarely wrong.

“Whatcha got?” he whispered into the com mic.