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“I’m sorry Troy, I really am,” Agent Tanner said over the truck’s Bluetooth speakers. “But there’s nothing the team or the FBI can do to help right now. Even if we knew where they were.”
“They were in my house! They disabled my alarm and broke in and out without a trace!” I shouted angrily.
“I know. I wish we could do more, but our hands are tied. Even the team’s hands are tied right now. I wish I could tell you more. I’ll fly down there in a couple of days and tell you everything in person, I promise. But right now, I can’t. They are untouchable. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” I said before mashing the button on the steering wheel to end the call.
I stepped out of the truck and opened the back door. I put on the custom body armor, helmet, and readied the modified suppressed H&K 416 rifle with custom digital sight that linked to the helmet’s targeting system.
I closed the door and started up the hill into the woods. On the other side was the mansion overlooking Sandy Creek just northwest of Austin. The spotter had sworn Houston would be there.
He had been tough to break, but didn’t require some of the more advanced techniques I had learned from Kruger. Between the interrogation and the gunshot wound to his leg, walking might be a challenge for the foreseeable future, but I expected him to make a full recovery in prison. The Sheriff promised to see to it personally.
I had only met Sheriff Gonzalez once before that night. He had given me an award for stopping the active shooter at the school a year earlier. He was a good man and great leader, but I preferred to stay off his radar.
Jenny called 911 after my interrogation, and deputies rushed to my house to secure the scene. They found the shooter and his weapon, and I gave them the spotter. I pointed out the round in my living room and the side of my house, and told Detective Murray that there had been a struggle when the spotter tried to finish the job.
They took my rifle for ballistics and released me. The preliminary evidence was enough to not pursue charges at this time. Sheriff Gonzalez said he had no doubt that it was a clear-cut case of self-defense, and said he was just glad we were okay.
As I crested the hill and approached the edge of the tree line near the compound, I stopped to do some surveillance. The other important bit of information that the spotter had given me was that he was part of a private security firm called Wildfire Industries – a defense contractor that had employed former special operations forces as mercenaries all over the world. He confirmed that Houston’s private security detail was provided by a subsidiary of the same group.
Using the optical system in the helmet, I switched between infrared and thermal imaging as I scanned the perimeter. There was one guard standing watch near the edge of the massive detached garage at the edge of the property. He was the closest threat to me en route to the mansion. He was wearing a suit and smoking a cigarette as he leaned against the building and appeared to look out into the trees off to my left. He did not appear to be carrying a rifle, but I was sure he was armed with at least a handgun. I marked his position with the targeting system and continued scanning for more threats.
I found two more roving patrols. These two were much more serious, both wearing tactical clothing, plate carriers, and rifles. I had to assume that the closer I got to the mansion and the front of the estate, the more heavily fortified it would be.
As I prepared to move, I checked my watch. It was just after 1 a.m. I had driven straight to the address after the deputies cleared the scene at my house. I didn’t want to drag this out any longer. I knew waking Tanner up was a waste of time, and I was surprised she had even answered, but I was hoping she might have some reassurance that the team had this handled. Instead, all she did was confirm the realization that I was on my own.
I readied my rifle and turned back to face the closest guard. He was still leaning against the detached garage, casually smoking a cigarette. As I took aim and placed the targeting system’s computed reticle on his cranium, he flicked the cigarette into the ground, stepped on it, and turned back toward the house.
Looking back to the other two patrols, I planned a route out of their line of sight toward the lone smoker. The helmet mounted display did a good job of keeping tabs on their general position, updating each time I found them.
I stayed low as I moved out of the tree line and moved quickly toward the lone guard by the garage. With his back still to me, I let my rifle fall against its sling and drew my knife as I approached.
Sneaking up behind him, I grabbed his mouth with my left hand and jerked him down and back as I drove the blade into his throat. He struggled momentarily before I dragged his lifeless body behind the garage and out of sight. I disarmed him and cleared the weapon before tossing it aside.
I turned toward where the targeting system thought the other two were. They hadn’t moved far from the two marked locations. When the system identified them, it put arrows over them indicating threats.
The nearest one was walking toward the tree line to my right while the far guard held his position near the fenced in pool area. There was no easy approach to either of them, so I took aim at the nearest guard and fired.
The suppressed subsonic round impacted the guard in the head. He crumpled to the ground as I turned to the second guard. I lined up the constantly computed targeting reticle on his forehead and squeezed the trigger.
Before his lifeless body hit the ground, I was up and moving toward the house. I could almost hear Kruger yelling at me for charging into an unknown tactical situation alone, but that ship had sailed. If he wanted me to do it right, he shouldn’t have gone off and died or disappeared or whatever the hell had happened to him.
I entered the pool area through the open gate and headed to the nearest door. As I took cover against the stucco wall, the door opened and a guard exited. I dropped my rifle against its sling and unsheathed my knife, taking him down silently before moving into the house. I knew I had just been very lucky.
The kitchen was empty as I moved to the stairs. Reaching the bottom, I saw a guard rounding the first flight of stairs. I double-tapped him with a round to the chest and head and then caught him before he rolled down the stairs.
I went up the stairs to the second floor. Another guard was walking away from me toward a set of double-doors that I assumed led to the master bedroom. I used my knife to neutralize him before heading to the double-doors.
Stopping just short, I took a second to catch my breath and calm myself. I was exhausted from lack of sleep, and I was angry. With every kill, my bloodlust grew stronger. I couldn’t stop thinking about Cynthia and Jacobs and all the good cops Houston had executed.
I readied my rifle and kicked the door in. I hooked right to clear the room and then turned back toward the bed when I was sure no one was behind the door. As I stepped toward the massive bed, I suddenly froze in horror.
“What? Who are you?” Houston screamed as he suddenly shot up in bed.
My brain couldn’t process what I was seeing. Houston was naked at least from the waist up. There were naked children next to him on either side – two girls and a boy. They were preteens at best, probably younger. They screamed when they saw me standing at the foot of the bed.
Houston capitalized on my shock, grabbing his chrome 1911-style handgun from the dresser and firing. The .45 caliber round hit me in the chest, knocking the wind out of me as it caused me to take a step back.
The custom, lightweight armor did its job. The impact felt like the paint-filled simunition rounds we used in SWAT training and the police academy. It would probably leave a huge welt where it impacted, but it was otherwise harmless.
“Get out of here, kids,” I growled. My blood was boiling. I didn’t return fire, but instead moved quickly to the side of the bed where Houston had leaned to get the handgun.
The kids screamed and ran off. Houston followed up with two more shots. I heard them, but my adrenaline was pumping so hard and I was so angry that I didn’t even feel them hit my body armor. I saw the completely naked children evacuate the bed out of the corner of my eye as I lunged toward Houston.
I don’t know how many more times he fired, but the slide locked back. I snatched it from him and hit him with the butt of the pistol causing blood to gush as it broke his nose.
“You fucking pervert!” I yelled.
I turned to see the kids standing next to the bed crying and staring at me. “I said get out!” I shouted.
Startled, they complied, quickly grabbing their clothes off the floor and scurrying out the door.
“You can’t kill me,” Houston said defiantly as I turned my attention back to him. “They won’t let you.”
“Is that so?”
Houston smiled through the blood trickling down his mouth. “I don’t know how you managed to escape, but if you kill me, they’ll kill your family.”
“The sniper? Yeah, he’s not going to be a factor.”
Houston laughed. “I have more men.”
“I noticed.”
“Fine,” Houston said. “Take me in. Hand me over to the FBI. See how long that lasts. Where are the rest of your friends, by the way? They should’ve told you I’m untouchable.”
“You killed a lot of good cops.”
“For the greater good. You’re such a small-minded man, Alex. So blinded by your own self-righteousness that you can’t see the bigger picture.”
“Does that picture involve molesting little kids, you sick fuck?” I asked, the rage inside me building.
“Perfectly consensual and legal within the eyes of the church. As someone who’s okay with murder himself, you have no moral high ground here.”
“You’re right about that,” I said as I hit him again with the butt of the handgun.
Only this time, I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. For everyone he’d killed, for the unrest he had caused, and for the children he had abused – I couldn’t stop myself from bashing his face in. Blood splattered everywhere. Every crack was immensely satisfying. I pounded his face until there was nothing recognizable anymore and his body went limp.
I stood over his body, my chest heaving and clenching the bloodied gun.
“I’m not just okay with it. I enjoyed it. You piece of shit.”