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“No. Lock the door behind me and then go back to the bathroom and wait. When I need to get back in, I’ll knock three times, a pause, and once more. Donotopen the door for anyone else unless you hear that knock. Be ready, though, because I intend to be quick.”

“Lexi, please don’t go,” Basia said from the bathroom, her voice choking up.

“Trust me, Basia. I’ve got this.”

“Then…just be careful, okay?”

“I will. I promised Slash I’d marry him in the church, and I fully intend to keep that promise.” I opened the door to the room and peered out into the dim hallway.

“Please let me keep that promise,” I whispered to myself, touching my engagement ring with the tip of my thumb. “Just this one time.”

THIRTEEN

Slash

The generator idea percolated in my head, but I had more pressing issues at the moment.

“Tito, can you to hold them for a bit longer?” I asked.

“If you get me that gun,” he replied.

“Coming your way.” I slid him the P90 toward his location. After a moment, I heard some rustling and Tito confirmed he had the weapon. After a pause, I heard something sliding back and hitting the cabinet base just in front of my hands.

It was Tito’s Glock.

“There are only a few rounds left,” Tito said. “Sorry, I got the better of that trade.”

“Good luck,” I said, stuffing the Glock into my belt. I waited a few seconds and then scuttled out of the kitchen and back into the dining room. Bullets sprayed into the swinging door at the movement, and I fully expected to be shot in the back at any moment. Thankfully, I remained untouched. I was relieved to see Gio still stood guard in the dining room. He’d managed to close most of the dining room curtains again after they had been disturbed by the first flash-bang.

“Tito is holding the kitchen entrance,” I reported. “I need Agent Troy’s radio. I am going to cover the front of the building. That’s the only entrance they haven’t tried, and it won’t be long before they correct that mistake.”

“Okay. I’m keeping our friend out here at bay by firing and moving so he knows we are still active.”

His calm tone gave me the confidence to continue quickly across the room toward the stairs. Down the hall to my left and toward the ballroom, another flash-bang went off. In the aftermath, I could see Beau and Hands kneeling behind some heavy oak tables.

I approached the front door from the side, checking to see if it was locked. It wasn’t. Swallowing a curse, I quickly flipped the lever. Mere seconds later, someone rattled the handle from the outside and growled. Instinctively, I threw myself to the ground as a burst of bullets punctured the door and the adjacent wall with splinters flying everywhere.

The attacker swore and kicked the door, but the old, heavy wood held. I quickly calculated his next move. Would he move left toward the living room or right toward the parlor? I decided that the parlor with multiple exits and ready access to more people presented the greatest risk. If it were me, I’d go in through the living room.

Since I didn’t have night-vision goggles, I couldn’t take him on directly. That meant I had to go into the room opposite of where I expected him to enter. I slid into the parlor and hid behind a sofa just as the living room window shattered. I heard someone climbing inside.

There was no one to stop him but me and I didn’t know how many rounds my weapon held.

I had to assume he was wearing body armor, so I’d need to be accurate in the dark to stop him. I had no choice but to speculate on his build. I calculated him at six feet, 220 pounds, and pictured him leaving the living room. If he was a professional, he’d hug the wall of the living room. Then, as he came to the base of the stairs, he’d pivot and check up the stairs for adversaries. For a moment, even though I couldn’t see him clearly, I would know exactly where he was.

Thatwas my opportunity.

I could hear glass crunching as he moved through the living room. I slipped to one knee behind the sofa, staying carefully out of his sight. In the faint illumination of the smoke detector over the front door, I could see movement by the base of the stairs around the side of the couch. I rose and fired several shots at his presumed position, then hit the floor again. Instead of return fire, there was a gurgle followed by a crash as he tumbled to the floor. He was, indeed, a professional.

When no further response came, I rose, holding my gun out. I cautiously approached his prone form before kicking the gun from his hand. Bending over, I confirmed he was closer to six four, and I’d gotten him in the throat. Thankfully, he was no longer a threat. I took his gun, feeling from the grip that it was a SCAR assault rifle. I pulled the night-vision goggles from his head and lifted them to my face. Thankfully, they were undamaged.

By the grace of God, the odds had just gotten a little more in our favor.

I headed back into the dining room, announcing my presence in case Gio was getting jumpy. “We have one adversary down in the entryway, and I have his gun and NVGs,” I reported. “We appear to be holding at the other entrances for the time being. Front door is locked, but the living room was breached through a window.”

“Understood,” Hands replied.

I pressed a button on the radio calling up to Agent Flax. “This is Slash. What’s the situation with the cavalry?”