The thirty-or-so-minute drive, once we get off the highway, passes quickly as I actively navigate every turn, and by the time we pull onto the dirt road leading to the trailhead, I’m fully focused and ready.
Janey pulls the SUV under the cover of a large tree, out of sight from above, and from anyone driving past the small parking loop. When we get out, we make sure to close the doors quietly. Noise carries, especially close to water and in the quiet of night.
Getting our gear, we strap on the Kevlar vests Jacob insists we wear going into potentially dangerous situations, and adjust the two-way radio earpieces, making sure we’re on the same channel. Then Janey fits her night-vision goggles over her head, while I change the scope on my M24 sniper rifle to nighttime mode. Daylight is still a few hours away.
Checking my cell phone before tucking it back in my pocket, I see there’s no reception, which doesn’t worry me, I know Janey carries a sat phone.
The rest of my gear and extra ammo is tucked in the small backpack I have strapped on. My Glock is in my pocket, a stun gun hooked to my belt, and I’m holding a satellite GPS in my hand. My classic-looking M24 is slung over my shoulder.
When I look over at Janey, I see she’s ready as well, and nod to let her know to go ahead.
She’s much faster than I am and limber on her feet, which is helpful in the dense brush with fallen trees and limbs littering the way. However, leading the way she hits any obstacles first so all I have to do is follow close behind her and manage to stay upright.
Still, I’m breathing heavy by the time she motions for me to stop.
“Two o’clock,” she whispers.
My eyes pan to the right and catch sight of a faint glow of light through the trees. I check the GPS in my hand.
“Could be the house.”
“Maybe.”
The next moment the light abruptly disappears. Perhaps someone turning off an outside lamp before turning in late. We’re going to need to proceed with extra caution.
Janey starts moving and I fall into step, pulling my Glock from my pocket as we get closer. With the reflection of the moon off the water as a lighter backdrop, we can see the dark outlines of the house appear.
Ahead of me, Janey appears to stumble and starts falling forward. I reach out and barely manage to grab hold of the back of her vest, narrowly keeping her from falling face-first into a tree trunk.
Suddenly we’re bathed in a flood of bright light, coming from directly above us. Janey curses loudly, ripping the goggles off her head as she’s instantly blinded. I need to blink my eyes a few times to adjust, still hanging on to her vest as I jerk her back into the shadows.
“Motion sensor light,” I tell her, just as a shot rings out.
It strikes the tree I just pulled us behind, sending pieces of bark flying, and has us ducking down. I keep my eyes peeled on the house which is still dark. No lights are on.
A second shot immediately follows, barely missing us, but it gives me an idea where the shots are coming from. I caught the flash.
“Rifle. Second floor, to the left of the front door,” I inform Janey, no longer worrying about my volume.
She’s already firing off a couple of shots as I lift my rifle from my shoulder and try to sight in on the window. With the night-vision scope, I can’t see a thing because of the damn floodlight. Any movement we make gets picked up by the sensors, so unless we move out of range, I can’t accurately fire off a shot.
“We need to move for me to get a clear shot.”
“I know,” she answers, already darting to the left, while staying crouched low.
She ducks behind another tree and fires off a few more shots, giving me the cover I need to hustle up behind her. Unfortunately, we’re looking up an incline and I don’t have a good vantage point.
“I want to get over there.”
I point out a tree about twenty feet up ahead on slightly higher ground.
“I’ll cover you,” Janey says and I immediately brace to run. “Three, two…”
When she starts firing on one, I’m already hoofing it, pumping my legs as I run a zigzag pattern, praying I don’t fall over a root or fallen branch. I hit the trunk of the tree and brace my back against it, sliding down until my butt hits the ground. Then I roll over on my stomach, pulling my M24 in front of me. Staying low to the ground, it’ll be hard to spot me since our shooter no longer has the advantage of elevation.
Now when I line up my sight, I can see movement in the window and catch the light reflect off a barrel. I don’t hesitate and take a shot.
Whoever was holding the rifle drops it instantly and I can hear the clatter when it hits the ground below. I’m not sure if I hit my target, but getting the weapon from his hand is good enough for now.
Janey heard it too and is already crouching down beside me.
“We can’t afford to wait,” she points out.
She’s right. We have to capitalize now, when whoever is in the house is hopefully momentarily distracted.
“We need to split up.”
It’s the only way we can have at least both obvious exits blocked. Going in different directions can also throw off whoever is watching.
“I’ll go around the back,” I add. “You see if there’s an alternate way to the front door to get in.”
She gives me a thumbs-up and, staying as close to the ground as I can, I start moving. I’m able to use the woods for cover until I’m almost at the house, when I hear a shriek.
“No!”
The voice is female, comes from the rear of the house, and sounds scared as hell. I’m pretty sure it’s Sawyer’s, but there’s no way to know for sure until I get a glimpse. It makes my blood pump a little faster.
Without thinking too hard, I dart out of the trees toward the side of the house and with my back pressed against the siding and my Glock leading the way, I ease my way toward the rear. I move carefully and every so often I look behind me. The last thing I want is someone sneaking up on me from behind.
Another screech pierces the night, this one seems to come from farther, closer to the water.
Shit. The dock.
“I heard that,” Janey’s voice crackles in my ear.
I press my finger to my earpiece.
“I’m investigating.”
When I step away from the wall, I can see all the way to the water. I think it’s Kendrick, the tall man teetering on the floating dock. He seems to have a hard time keeping his footing as he struggles to lift the smaller figure of a girl into the motorboat moored alongside it.
“Have visual. Kendrick is trying to escape with a hostage,” I whisper.
“Need assistance?”
“Negative. Cover the house.”
“About to make entry,” Janey confirms.
They’re a couple of hundred yards from me, and I have a clear line of sight. Lifting my rifle, I brace it tightly against my shoulder, line my right eye up with the scope, and find the pair on the dock.
I’m pretty sure it’s Mitch’s daughter and it’s definitely Kendrick. If the situation wasn’t so dire, I’d be smiling at the girl’s grit. Even with her hands apparently tied behind her back, she’s giving him a hard time, kicking her legs as he lifts her from behind.
As it is, I need to focus on making sure that boat doesn’t leave the dock.
Unfortunately, they’re moving too much for me to get a clear shot and I can’t risk hitting Sawyer.