Project 731 (13 page)

18

Hawkins placed his shotgun on the floor and slowly raised his hands, putting all his willpower into not spinning around and diving at the man behind him. Not only was the man armed, but he might not be alone. Attacking was most likely a death sentence, and that wouldn’t do Lilly any good. If they took her now, he needed to survive so he could get her back. Dying in her defense, however noble, would only make her situation worse.

“Turn around,” the man said. “Real slow.”

Hawkins did as instructed, taking in the scene with calm determination. He’d take in every detail, commit them to memory and use the information to hunt these men down. But he didn’t really need to take in details. He recognized the four BlackGuard men, but they weren’t alone. Behind them stood four more men, who looked like regular soldiers, their uniforms dark camouflage, their faces masked, but eyes revealed. The four BlackGuard were hidden behind black masks and those reflective goggles. The man talking was known as Silhouette.

“I’m sorry,” Hawkins said, “you brought a small army to take care of us, but only the four of you to handle an army of Tsuchis?”

If the man was surprised, it was impossible to tell. He just tilted his head and said, “I thought you looked familiar. A little different without the mud on your face.”

Hawkins felt an odd sort of tension fill the room. Men were shifting, like a fight was coming, but it had nothing to do with him.

The man snapped his gloved fingers, the sound muffled, “Dustin Dreyling, right? The new FC-P hire.”

Hawkins just stared at the man, trying to find his eyes through the reflective glass.

“No,” Silhouette said. “That’s not right. Well, not the truth, anyway. Hawkins. Mark Hawkins. That sounds right. You know, for a while we thought you might actually be dead. You and your girlfriend—” He glanced at Lilly. “—and your pet. But here you are, alive and living right under our noses in a vacation home funded by the same assholes who pay our bills. Ironic, don’t you think?”

Hawkins didn’t take the bait. He knew the man was just looking for an excuse to get violent.

“But the real problem lies within a single word of what I just said.” Silhouette leaned in close, whispering. “Do you know what that word is?”

Hawkins said nothing, but pondered the question, replaying the man’s last words in his mind. Then it came to him, along with an understanding of why the men were tensing for a fight, despite the situation being under control.

Alive
.

The BlackGuard operative, Specter, had been ordered to kill him and Hudson. Not only had he spared them, but he’d also left the goggles behind. The goggles that had allowed them to uncover the Lompoc location. But it was the same goggles that had revealed Lilly and the FC-P to GOD.

Specter, recognizable as the smaller of the four men, slowly stepped to the side, away from the others, his stance non-threatening. “I didn’t think you’d approve, but I—”

“You’re God-damned right I wouldn’t approve,” Silhouette said to Specter. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t put you next to this asshat and put bullets in both of your heads.”

Hawkins paid attention to the conversation and noted the revelation that despite the man’s claims to the contrary, Silhouette was planning on killing him, which meant he
had
to act. The question was, when?

And how?

There were nine men in the room, four of them highly trained killers, the other five potentially as deadly. With Lilly out of commission, Hawkins would have to rely on his shotgun, but there weren’t enough shells in the weapon to take out all eight men, and he wasn’t even sure if the pellets would get past their armor. His only real hope was that things would go south with Specter and that distraction would give him time to act.

And then, probably, die. But he had to try. He watched the conversation, tensing to move.

“I thought I recognized him,” Specter said. “You had already left, so I made the call.”

“And didn’t tell me about it.”

“The results speak for themselves, I think.”

Specter’s confidence was surprising. Silhouette was clearly in charge, but Specter had no problem questioning the man’s authority. But was this cocksure attitude considered acceptable? Or was Specter just digging his own grave?

Hawkins saw his chances of success dwindle to nothing when Silhouette shook his head and laughed. “You’re a ballsy sonofabitch. Now do me a favor, and put a bullet in his head this time.”

Silhouette stepped aside, allowing Specter a clean shot.

Hawkins glanced down. The shotgun was at his feet. If he was lucky, he’d have enough time to duck, grab the weapon and pull the trigger. If he was really lucky, the shot would strike the man’s legs. But after that, no amount of luck would change his fate.

Specter took aim.

Outside, a shrill scream grew louder. Everyone looked toward the front of the house, from where the sound had come. The scream wasn’t getting louder, though. It was getting closer. A thunk above marked the man’s impact with the ceiling. He rolled down the slanted roof and fell past one of the shattered windows, hitting the ground outside with a thud.

Silhouette toggled his throat mic. “All teams report.”

The man was quiet for a moment, then turned his attention back to Hawkins. “Who’s out there?”

Before Hawkins could reply, several more screams filled the air. One by one, men slammed into the house. The first struck the outside wall, his shout cut short by a loud crack. The second man struck the roof and rolled off. The third man also struck the roof, but then toppled through one of the broken skylights and fell to the floor.

“Looks like there’s something worse than the BlackGuard out tonight,” Hawkins said and immediately regretted it.

Silhouette lifted his own weapon at Hawkins’s head, finger on the trigger. But he never got a chance to pull it. A shotgun blast struck the man, throwing him across the room.

“Now, Mark!” Joliet shouted from the second floor balcony. She pumped the shotgun and fired a second time, striking one of the less armored regular soldiers, killing him instantly. Hawkins crouched, looped his finger around the shotgun trigger and yanked it back. The weapon fired, shredding furniture and striking the largest of the BlackGuard in the legs. The shot was intended for Specter, but the lithe man had already dived away. The shot still had the desired effect, though. While the big man fell, Hawkins dove away, hiding behind the large, stone, fireplace chimney.

Joliet got off one more shot before the counter attack began. The BlackGuard didn’t just fire at her, they shot up through the floor, their KRISS rifles making short work of the wood. Joliet was forced back, diving into a bedroom.

The chimney burst into a cloud of chipped stone, as bullets tore around Hawkins. He ducked back, waiting for a break in the fire. The break came a moment later when two more men fell through the skylights.

What the hell is happening out there?

He got his answer a moment later when the front door was kicked off its hinges, and Maigo entered. Not only had he never seen the girl look angry before, he’d never seen
anyone
this angry in his life. She looked possessed. She looked...like Nemesis in human form.

“Stop!” Maigo shouted. Her voice was so loud and commanding that everyone obeyed. But that didn’t stop everyone in the room—including the recovered Silhouette, whose armor had protected him—from aiming their weapons at the girl.

“Maigo,” Hawkins yelled. “Get out of here!”

“Maigo?” someone asked, sounding surprised, but Hawkins couldn’t see who had said it. Instead he heard the staccato roar of a KRISS rifle, followed by Silhouette bellowing, “What
the fuck
!” and the chaos of returning fire, none of which was directed at Hawkins.

Hawkins stepped out from hiding, shotgun brought to bear, and took in the scene. One of the BlackGuard laid on the floor, blood oozing from his head. The rest of them were firing across the living room at Specter, who had just dived into the kitchen, sliding behind the island.

Maigo took hold of the nearest man, one of the regular soldiers, with surprising speed. She lifted him by his arms and threw him into the ceiling two stories above. He fell back down, limp.

More men poured into the cabin through the back, ready to join the fight, but several were cut down by Specter, hiding in the kitchen.

Joliet opened fire from the second floor, striking one of the newcomers, but drawing heavy fire. She fell back with a shout of pain, clutching her side.

Lilly stirred on the floor, her eyes snapping open, taking in the scene. She let out a screeching cry, but she was still too weak to move. Maigo crouched beside her, eyes wary for danger. But the BlackGuard and their support were focused on people with guns, which Hawkins remembered, included him. He fired the shotgun at the men, striking two of the regular soldiers.

Silhouette returned fire, but missed as Hawkins ducked back behind the chimney.

Over the roar of gunfire from both sides of the battle, high pitched screams tore through the air from the back of the house. Men retreated from the back door, pursued by three large black cats. Lilly had called in reinforcements. The tide of this encounter had shifted dramatically, and everyone knew it, including Silhouette.

The BlackGuard leader slapped something against the kitchen’s outer wall, ducked and covered his ears.

“Fire in the hole!” Hawkins said, covering himself, too.

The explosion rocked the inside of the home, the sound reverberating off the walls and striking everyone with the same numbing force. Hawkins forced himself past the pain and leaned out from hiding, raising his shotgun. He fired once, but missed his target. Silhouette and the big man had already fled through a hole in the wall.

Several of the soldiers still moved, but Lilly’s girls set upon them, quickly snapping necks, which was unfortunate. A living captive would have provided them with a lot of information.

“Back!” a man shouted. “Hawkins! Call them off!”

It was the short man, Specter, who for some reason had helped save their lives twice now. He was still alive.

“Lilly!” Hawkins said, and she understood. She let out a cat-like cry, and all three big cats bounded over to her, nuzzling calmly, like nothing had happened.

Hawkins headed for the kitchen, shotgun raised. He glanced at the girls, still on the living room floor. Maigo gave him a too-old-for-her-age nod that said, “I’ve got her.”

Joliet tromped down the stairs, clutching her blood-soaked side with one hand, still wielding the shotgun with the other, pausing for a moment to address Lilly. “Don’t you dare ever put me in an attic again.”

Hawkins looked at Joliet, the pained expression on her face, and then at her side, where blood was slipping out from beneath her hand. Before he could ask, Joliet said, “It went through. Pretty sure it missed anything important. I think I’ll live. But a hospital would probably be a good idea...after we get some answers from this guy.” She motioned to the kitchen, where Specter was hidden.

Hawkins smiled.
Shot and still feisty
. His kind of lady.

Side by side, the pair entered the kitchen.

“Show yourself,” Hawkins said.

Specter stood slowly from behind the counter. He was unarmed, hands raised. “My weapons are on the floor.”

“Who are you?” Joliet said.

“A friend,” the man replied, reaching up to his mask. He peeled off the goggles and mask as one, revealing a face Hawkins recognized.