Round came from behind. Shooter on stairs.
Zeb twisted even as he fell, flinging himself to the side.
His HK rising. Shredding the hallway apart. Paper and wood chips filling the air. Rounds whistling past his head.
His body jerking when one more round smashed into his chest.
His eyes unwavering, intent on the killer who was leaning over the bannister.
Zeb’s shots nailing him, tossing him back, until the terrorist fell limply.
The girl screaming and crying. Namir shouting for his men to reply, not knowing how large the attacking force was.
Zeb got to his feet, sluggishly, automatically.
Turning his HK to cover the second living room’s entrance.
No one else appeared.
Zeb knew he was in bad shape.
The round that went into his back had lodged somewhere high, near his shoulder.
The right side of his chest was bloody where the second slug had pierced.
His older wounds had opened.
He could move, however. He could hold a gun. He could fire. That was all that mattered.
He could see, even though his vision was fading at the edges.
‘I have got the girl. And the old man,’ Namir screamed from inside.
Zeb didn’t reply.
He went to the first living room.
Leaned over the dead killer to haul the body up, biting his lips to stifle a groan.
He couldn’t reveal he was badly hit.
Maneuvered the body into position.
Put his left hand around it, supporting the body’s weight with all his strength. Keeping it as upright as possible.
His right hand holding the HK, providing additional support.
He shuffled slowly toward the terrorists.
‘Who are you?’ Namir called out.
Zeb thought he heard choppers in the distance.
His head was ringing, however. He was breathing loudly, harshly. Sucking as much oxygen as he could.
His animal brain readying his body for one last fight.
They will be near the far wall. Spread out. Namir with the girl, since she is the more valuable hostage. The other killer with Ashland.
He got closer.
Controlled his breathing.
Got his hands as low on the body as possible.
He knew they could hear him approaching.
It couldn’t be helped.
He checked the floor.
No shadows to give away what he was attempting.
Took a quick mental check.
Good to go.
Well, not good, but there was no choice.
He flung the body inside the living area.