Chapter 40

CHAPTER 40

H IS GLOCK OUT, DEVINE SEIZED Coburn by the wrist and pulled her up from the table, even as he used his elbow to nudge off the light switch.

As the space fell dark, he said quietly, “What’s the configuration of rooms upstairs?”

A frightened Coburn said in a strained whisper, “Three bedrooms, and three en suite baths all off one hall.”

He nodded, pulled his phone, punched in 911, and told them he was a federal agent, the address of the house, and that there was an intruder. He then led Coburn out of the room, even as they now heard faint footsteps from the rear of the house.

In the front room Devine eased back the curtain. Only his vehicle and the Lexus were visible, but his instincts told him that there was someone also lurking out there.

Devine hustled Coburn up the stairs, and after making a quick scan of the room setups, Devine settled them in the far back bedroom. While Coburn stood shivering, Devine locked the door and then slid a bureau in front of it.

He looked up and said urgently, “Get away from that window.”

She instantly pressed herself against the wall.

“What now?” she moaned.

“We hang on until the cops get here. Shouldn’t be long now.”

He had Coburn crawl under the bed and lie curled up against the bottom of the headboard, as far from the door as possible.

“Stay there and don’t come out until I tell you to.”

“Please don’t let them kill me.”

He now heard footsteps on the landing, and a few moments later they were stealthily moving down the hall. Devine took up a shooting position at an angle to the bedroom door and called out, “I’m an agent with Homeland Security. If you come any closer, I will open fire.”

He listened. Damned if they didn’t come closer.

Okay, here we go.

Devine fired three shots through the thin wood of the door. One was at eye height, the second at the gut, and the third at the shins in case they had dropped to the floor.

As soon as that last round left his gun, Devine opened fire again, discharging his weapon fast, side to side in a crisscross pattern, high to low. In the narrow confines of the hallway it would have taken a contortionist not to be struck with one of the rounds. But after his opening salvo, he doubted whoever was out there would have stayed put to be shot down. He only hoped it had bought them some precious time.

Come on, sirens.

He quickly reloaded, and keeping his breathing calm and level, he continued to listen.

A few moments later he heard something bang against the door. Not a bullet, but something hard. His mind flashed through the various possibilities. A body? A piece of furniture? A…

Shit.

He pulled the mattress down over the front of the bed as a shield and then slid under the bed, pushing himself back next to Coburn and covering the woman with his body.

“Brace yourself,” he hissed. “Eyes closed and fingers in ears. Now.”

Something exploded a moment later, blowing open the door and hurtling the heavy bureau against the mattress and bed frame.

“Oh my God!” screamed Coburn.

Devine did not scream. He rolled out from under the bed and immediately fired at the doorway, letting whoever was out there know that their tactic had not worked. He saw two men retreating down the hall as his shots whizzed by them.

“Stay here!” he ordered Coburn.

He leapt up and burst through the doorway, which was now twice as large as it had been. As he glanced back, Devine saw that the thick mattress was burned and shredded from the blast, but it had saved their lives.

Even though it cost him time, Devine quickly searched the house to make sure no one was waiting for him to run past before going in and finishing off Coburn. Then he hurtled to the front door. He heard sirens in the distance, which made him feel much better.

He peeked out the open front door, and then jumped back as bullets flew past him and lodged in the wall. He took another cautious look and saw the two men running away from the house. He raced outside, calling out, “Drop your weapons. Down on your knees, now, hands clasped above your head. Now, or I will shoot.”

They just ran harder. He next fired a warning shot over their heads to let them know he meant business.

They still kept sprinting, running for the patch of woods across from the house. He hustled after them, aiming for the tree line into which they’d just plunged.

Why the hell were they running so hard? They outnumbered him and were armed.

Oh shit.

He stopped so fast, he almost fell over. He turned back to the house, but had taken only a single step toward it when the structure disappeared in front of him, blowing upward and outward.

Devine was thrown backward at least ten feet, landing in the dirt next to the tree line. As he lay there, concussed and bruised and fighting to catch his breath, debris hit all around him.

He heard a car start up from somewhere.

Seconds later a vehicle shot past him.

He once more heard sirens, closer this time. The cavalry was showing up, only far too late.

He rolled to his right, stood, raised his gun, and tried to fire at the car, but he couldn’t manage it.

His vision was blurred, his face flushed, his lungs seized up, and his heart was racing.

A sharp pain then hit his frontal lobe.

A moment later Travis Devine toppled to the dirt.