Murder Game (GhostWalkers #7)(52)
Author: Christine Feehan

“Come on then,” Kadan replied in greeting. “Gator, you clearing a path for us?”

It wasn’t difficult for Gator to scale the fence, using the prongs on his boots and the spikes on his gloves. He went up and over and then signaled to the dogs, stirring them up, commanding them to bark, to roar out challenges from every point in the yard while he sprinted for the helicopter pad. He’d just made it to cover when the guards burst out into the open from every direction, lights once again flooding the compound. This time, the handlers released the dogs from the double fence and brought them leashed, searching for enemies on the grounds.

Gator did a hasty job of planting the explosives, first on the helipad, more on the helicopter, a third along the fence just beyond the pad. He used the blurring speed of the enhanced GhostWalker, cutting through the acreage to get to the opposite side of the estate, throwing voices as he sprinted, disrupting the dogs so they went crazy, howling and barking, raging at their handlers, so that chaos erupted in several hot spots, keeping guards running in every direction but toward Gator or the house.

A guard on the roof must have spotted him, because Nico’s gun boomed and the man nearly toppled at Gator’s feet. Gator kept running. A second shot rang out, and he caught a glimpse of a man falling from the roof to a balcony. The Cajun didn’t hesitate; he put on a burst of speed and zigzagged, just to keep the odds in his favor.

“Thanks, man.”

“No problem.” Nico sounded the same. Matter-of-fact.

It took Gator several minutes to get to the opposite fence, two acres from the helipad, and even he was a bit out of breath after his run. Whipping out a can, he sprayed an entire section of all three fences. A man shouted hoarsely at him, but Gator kept spraying and didn’t turn when Nico’s rifle coughed up another kill.

“Where are you?” Ryland’s voice buzzed in his ear.

“Heading for the garage,” Gator answered and whirled back to make another run. This time he was going to have to first get through the ranks of guards and then enter the garage, where Nico would no longer be able to help him.

He drew two guns and headed for the garage. The guards were gearing up to make a move on the house, knowing through radio silence that their bosses were most likely dead. They were between him and the garage, and he had to get to the Humvee. “I’m on the move now.”

The moment Kadan heard Gator was making a break for the garage, he skirted around the woman on the floor and pulled two guns from his belt. “Search him, Rye.”

He didn’t look back, but broke out of the house on the run, firing relentlessly, choosing his targets as he cleared a path to protect Gator. He could hear Nico’s rifle and the resounding crash of Gator’s guns as they joined in the fight.

“I’m in.” Gator’s voice was a little out of breath. He swore. There was more gunfire and then he spoke again. “Son of a bitch, get out of my ride.” More gunfire came from the vicinity of the garage. “It’s an original, and man, she’s a beaut.”

Kadan gave a small sigh of relief. The intel on the vehicle had been hastily researched, and Tansy hadn’t paid attention to it, she’d never even ridden in it. Don Meadows had the real deal, the military-issue, four-wheel drive, high-mobility, armor-plated, go-over-and-through-anything vehicle. And they were going to need it.

“Blow the helicopter,” Kadan ordered.

Instantly the aircraft lifted into the air, exploded into several large pieces, and settled back down in a fiery orange and black cauldron of flames. The explosion had the desired effect of sending the guards scurrying toward the ocean side of the property.

Kadan counted to thirty and gave the next order. “Take out the helipad.”

The second explosion rocked the estate. Smoke billowed into the air along with a tower of flames.

Kadan retreated to the doorway of the house. Ryland would have to pack Sharon out on his shoulder, but Don . . . now, Don was another matter. Kadan didn’t trust him. He had to have some psychic ability to have such a natural barrier in his head. Given a psychic talent and his longstanding friendship with Whitney, Kadan didn’t trust the man any further than he could throw him.

Ryland came up behind him, gun out, Sharon draped over his shoulder. Don had been herded in front of the GhostWalker and was clearly unhappy.

“I can carry my wife.”

Kadan turned cool eyes on him. “You can be quiet or you’ll go out the same way she’s going out.”

Meadows flushed. Kadan doubted anyone ever talked to him like that. As a future son-in-law, he wasn’t racking up the points, but he didn’t really give a damn.

“At least give me a gun to defend us,” Don demanded.

Kadan swung around, drawing the air syringe from his pack and slapping another liquid cartridge into it.

Don held up both hands and backed up. “I’ll be quiet. Seriously, you don’t need that.”

Kadan ignored him, turning back just as the Humvee burst out of the garage and bounced over the flower beds. The few remaining guards scattered, dogs roared, and the vehicle slid sideways to the atrium door.

“Blow the back fence,” Kadan ordered calmly as he stepped back, jerked Don out of the line of gunfire, and shoved Tansy’s father behind him.

The third explosion shook the house again.

“Go, Rye,” Kadan ordered, calmly shooting two men who were aiming at Gator. Nico’s rifle barked at the same time, and the bodies jerked twice as they went down.

Nico was firing steadily now, providing cover as Rye ran, Sharon’s limp body bouncing like a rag doll against his back. He slung her into the waiting vehicle and took up a position to cover Kadan and Don.

“Let’s go,” Kadan said. “Make a run and dive inside. Get on the floor and cover your wife’s body.”

To his credit, Don didn’t hesitate. He looked neither right nor left; he just took off sprinting, leaping for the open door and draping his body over Sharon’s.

“Get out, Nico,” Kadan ordered. “Go, Gator.”

The Humvee lurched forward and then picked up speed.

A guard rose up on the driver’s side, sighting down his barrel at Gator. A red hole blossomed where his left eye had been just as Kadan put one in his chest.

“Nico,” Kadan said, reprimanding him.

“I’m out,” Nico confirmed. “Catch you at the rendezvous point.”

“Did you get the tracking device, Gator?” Kadan asked.

“Dismantled,” Gator said, his eyes on the fence looming ahead of them. The double chain-link with the privacy fence just beyond it. He kept his foot on the gas, building up their speed.