Chapter 32

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

D errick itched to join the fight.

His brothers were putting their lives on the line while he did nothing but stare out the back door at the empty patio.

"One got through!" Michael called.

The boom of gunfire, then Grant's low, "Got him."

"Watch out, Mike," Daniel yelled. "Watch out!"

Silence stretched for seconds. A minute. Felt like an hour. Then Michael spoke, sounding out of breath. "He's down. Thanks, bro."

What had happened? Derrick wanted a play-by-play, as if his brothers had nothing else to do.

He twisted toward Sam, who was watching out the windows on the other side of the room, glancing back to the door that led up from the basement, just in case.

"You see anything?"

"Just flashes," Sam said. "Nobody's gotten through."

"Good, good." Derrick didn't want those guys anywhere near Jasmine or all the women and kids in this house. Truth be told, he didn't want them near his brothers, either .

Grant's plan was working. God willing, any second, Khalid and his men would turn tail and run.

"I got a call." Jasmine's voice on the walkie-talkie had Derrick jolting. "It was Khalid."

"What!" His shocked response was lost as everyone else reacted.

"Quiet, everyone," Grant commanded. Then, "What did he say exactly?"

Jasmine explained what the terrorist had dictated she do.

"He didn't explain the distraction?" Grant asked.

"No."

"Okay." Grant acted like this was no big deal. Just another day at the office. "Stand by."

Stand by?

Derrick was supposed to just…do nothing? Fat chance.

He pressed the button on his walkie-talkie. "Let me go out there, Grant. I'll surprise him."

"Stay where you are. Be ready for that distraction."

He glared at the walkie-talkie as if Grant could see him, then called, "Sam, trade places with me."

If they switched places, Derrick could easily slip down the stairs and meet Khalid beneath the patio himself.

"Not a chance," Sam said.

"If she tries to go out?—"

"I'll stop her. Don't worry."

But Khalid was so close.

"They're coming over the cliff!" Dad's shout had Derrick peering through the darkness, but all he could see was the dark patio and the railing. He couldn't see the yard between the house and the cliff or any men who might be coming that way.

A gunshot echoed from upstairs. Then another. And another.

What was happening ?

"From the dock?" Grant yelled. "How'd they get?—?"

"Up the stairs." Dad's voice, frantic a moment ago, was calm now. After a pause and a couple of gunshots, Dad continued. "Black boats, black clothes. Black water. Didn't see 'em."

"Shoot on sight," Grant said, all business.

"We're trying!" That was Leila, and unlike Dad, she sounded terrified. "There're too many!"

"You're doing great, hon," Dad said. "Take your time. Line up your shots."

"You've got this, sweetheart." Michael was calm as could be. "You guys are doing great. Stop as many as you can. Derrick and Sam will get anyone who makes it by you."

Derrick itched to step onto the patio. If he could pick enemies off as they crossed the lawn, he could stop them before they reached the house.

But he knew his job. It was not to go meet Khalid. It was not to kill the man who would take Jasmine away but to protect everybody in this house.

Help me, God. Equip me for this.

He stepped away from the glass and aimed. Ready.

Across the room, Sam's focus was on the door that came up from the basement. Maybe he should've been downstairs, but Grant had wanted someone watching from the higher windows.

If more men were coming, then the Wrights didn't have enough manpower. Not nearly enough.

But nobody came. Maybe Dad, Bryan, and the women upstairs had it under control. If the men coming up the cliff were meant to be the distraction, then they'd handled it.

"You see that?" Bryan's voice held a hint of panic. "They've got some sort of a?—"

"Take cover!" Summer shouted.

A low whistle.

Glass shattered—upstairs.

An explosion rocked the house.