Page 119 of Agency

The world suddenly became thunder and roar, like lightning had struck right next to my head, and the living room became a cloud of dust and smoke that billowed and whooshed from the rear windows.

Oh. Oh no. Oh dear God, no! That third operator must have tripped one of the claymores in the entryway! My guys! Where were they?

“Andrew!” I screamed, heading towards the living room despite my aunt’s grabbing hand. “Jericho! Guys!”

One of the hostiles popped up on the far side of the room, stumbling like a drunk from the explosion. His rifle came up and I put two bullets in him, dropping him with my mouth still open and screaming, but now in wordless rage as my ears continued to ring.

To the right, another hostile stumbled, his arm hanging loose and mangled at his side. His other, though, held a sidearm.

I shot him, too. Twice in the torso, one in the head.

And then a firm hand far larger than my aunt’s grabbed my shoulder from behind, cutting my scream and cutting my voice.

“Ambyr!” Jericho shouted above the whining tone in my ear as he gave me a rough squeeze. “Ambyr, we’re okay! Let’s go!”

Two more shapes filled the entry, barely visible through the cloud of smoke and dust. I went to raise my weapon, but two shots came from somewhere behind us, and Morgan shouted as my targets dropped before I could even get a bead on them.

“Move! I’ll cover you guys!”

As a unit, we continued around the corner to the side of the house. Weapons raised, we headed down to the garage, with Aunt Val barking at us to pick up the pace. Jericho and Andrew were first through, and they moved to forward positions as my aunt and I broke cover and headed for the garage’s side door.

She worked the lock’s digital keypad, and then we were within. The spacious three-car garage was almost as pristine as the sub-basement safe had been, and a BMW, an old Jeep, and an Escalade had each been reversed in to fill the spots.

“Escalade,” my aunt barked, tossing me the keys.

“Trackers?” I asked. “Anything?”

“All yanked.”

We got inside, and soon Morgan and Andrew were both piling into the back, with Morgan getting into the most rear.

“Where’s Jericho?” I snapped, starting the car up.

“On his way!”

“He better hurry,” Aunt Val said. “We’ve got less than a minute.”

“Here he is!”

Jericho slammed into the backseat seconds later, shouted for me to punch the gas.

So, I did.

The car barely lurched as I crashed us through the garage door and kept going out straight. Off the driveway we went, tires spinning and churning gravel as I drove out into my aunt’s yard, then cut left and headed for the main road.

“Hold on!” I shouted as we hit a small dip in the landscape at nearly forty, and launched into the street. Gunfire chattered behind us for a split second as I fought the wheel to get us back on the right heading. As I won the battle and righted the car, a colossalboom!rocked the Escalade from behind, and the fight with the steering column was on again. I slammed the gas and kept us straight as chunks of roof tile and house fell to the street all around us.

My eyes drifted to the rearview mirror. I exhaled as what remained standing of my aunt’s house became engulfed in flames and car alarms all around the neighborhood lifted their horns to the heavens like a chorus of angels heralding the apocalypse.

Never before in all my life had I been so happy to see a structure fire.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Andrew

We’d paid for the cabin on the shores of the Lake of the Woods in cash when the four of us arrived there in Aunt Val’s Escalade. The promise of some extra money upon arrival had ensured the shelves were stocked with the bare essentials before we arrived. Not that we were inclined to enjoy them soon as we got through the door, or anything. No, we’d passed out as soon as we finished the nearly twelve hour drive.

We just didn’t want any of the staff to see the small armory we’d unloaded.