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The attack commenced around 2 A.M.
Apart from the children’s room, Kara determined the next safest place to hunker down was the home’s main hallway. It provided at least two walls of concrete between her and the home’s exterior, and there was no exposure to any windows. She used the remainder of her prep time to pop out the hinge pins of the home’s thick interior doors using a screwdriver. Having dragged the doors over to a work area, she nailed Kornev’s remaining vests over them. Next, she lined the hallway walls with the solid doors, which added another layer of protection. One door was positioned in the hall that shared a wall with the kid’s bedroom. Another layer of protection was worth a pound of cure, or was it an ounce of prevention? Either way, thicker was always better in a firefight.
After constructing the bunker, she removed her black abaya, opting instead for the facial protection of a helmet. She donned a black bulletproof vest to serve as more armor. Finally, she inserted the critical addition of ear protection. Things were going to get loud for sure. Almost all effective weapons were loud. A bow and arrow could be a deadly weapon, but the CIA agent didn’t anticipate being raided by a tribe of Indians. Kara stuffed magazines in each of the vest’s numerous pockets with essentially all they could hold. She attached six grenades to stainless steel hooks at chest level on the bulletproof vest.
The attack commenced with a flashbang grenade thrown through the front living room window. It was loud, and she heard the children scream in terror in response. Now awake, the kids would find themselves surrounded by a prison of mattresses. They would be scared, but hopefully they would hide under their covers or whatever kids did when they became frightened. Kara had never been scared as a child, so she was unsure how they’d act.
The flashbang created an intense light (flash) that temporarily blinded those unlucky enough to be staring in the direction it entered. The bang was nonlethal unless you fell on top of the device at the time of detonation. Normally it caused disorientation with the concussion of the bang, but other than shaking the walls of the old home, the flashbang grenade didn’t impact Kara. Her hearing protection refracted the sound. Kara remained in the hallway, staying low to the floor. There was no reason for her to take any action yet. She sat patiently awaiting what they might do next. She was positive the banker wouldn’t risk throwing in a shrapnel grenade with his children inside the home.
Immediately following the explosion of the flashbang, all the front windows in the living room were riddled by automatic rifle fire. It took the men outside less than three seconds to shoot the glass free from the metal frames. There was the briefest of lulls followed by consecutive bursts of small arms fire surrounding the structure. Inside, she heard the rounds as they drilled into the walls and cabinets. Most of the bullets went high, digging into the ceiling and making their way into the attic. Kara surmised the men had been ordered to shoot high to avoid hitting the kids. Four or five AK rounds reached the hallway, her hiding place, but Kara’s multiple layers of protection absorbed the projectiles.
“Wait a little longer,” Kara told herself, picking up and removing the slack in two of the ten ropes that were at her feet. She tried imagining what was going on outside. The attackers had first thrown in the flashbang, and then shot up the place a little, and now seemed to be awaiting a response from the home’s inhabitants. If there was no response, she assumed they would shoot a little more to see what headway they gained. If still no response, they might feel more confidence and close in on the home.
A second barrage of gunfire erupted outside. Kara clutched a thin line of paracord in both hands. It took all her self-control to wait for precisely the right time to offer a response. After the gunfire subsided, she began counting to herself.
She thought it would take approximately thirty seconds for her attackers to become confident no counterattack was forthcoming. Kara believed it would take an additional thirty seconds before they exited their hiding places and approached the home. She estimated it would take another minute to reach the house, factoring in the probability they would begin slowing down once they reached within twenty yards. When she calculated the men were probably less than twenty feet from the living room windows, Kara pulled on both lines. The paracords tightened and sprang to life. Snaking from the hallway to the living room, the strings pulled the triggers of the two AK-47s, one mounted to the bookshelf and the other to the credenza. Although she wore ear protection, the gunfire was deafening. Any remnants of glass left in the jams turned back into a sand-like material as the machine guns danced around on the bipods. The only thing that prevented the guns from doing a 180-degree turn and shooting up the home’s interior was the thin line of baling wire that had a long utensil duct taped to it and secured with a few nails.
Kara eased up on the paracord lines and tried to calculate how many rounds she had fired. She had counted to two before ceasing fire. She knew the AK-47s shot about ten rounds per second in full auto, which meant she had about ten rounds and some change left in each gun. Giving another quick tug on the same lines, she allowed the guns to fire for half a second. In the living room, both AK-47s released a burst of 7.62x39 caliber fire into the night. Releasing the lines, she stopped and listened. Somewhere in the home, close to her position, she heard a window break. It came from the bedroom opposite the wall she was leaning against. Kara picked up the rope that controlled the gun’s trigger in that bedroom and gave it a quick tug. The gun cut loose with a concentrated blast of lead. In spite of her earplugs, after she released the tension on the line, she heard the impact of empty cartridges bouncing and rolling across the bedroom floor.
For a moment, things outside became quiet. Kara thought the breach squadrons might be comparing notes over their radios. New orders were probably being issued, but Kara wasn’t naive enough to think her show of force had deterred those who meant her harm. Kara removed one earplug to listen intently for sounds emanating from the rear of the house, possibly near the backyard around the kitchen door. With a pull of the line, another three pounds of pressure applied to the weapons in the kitchen sent reports of AK fire ripping outside through the two kitchen windows.