“Just stay back until we tell you it’s safe.”
No response. That was not a good sign.
“Jennifer?”
“I heard you.”
“Just stay back until we’re done shooting, okay?”
“I said I heard you, Mr. Football Captain.”
Hearing him and agreeing with him weren’t the same thing. He pursed his lips. He only hoped she wouldn’t do anything stupid. The sooner he got her comfortable with a gun, the better.
“Wait for my signal,” he called to the boys. They needed to wait until the Russians were almost on top of them. It was too dark to do any decent shooting otherwise.
Leo raised the rifle to his shoulder, sighting down the scope. Hunting was one of the few things he enjoyed these days. There was something about connecting with the land and putting food on the family table that brought him a sense of peace. Leo didn’t feel peaceful very often—not since his mom had died and Jennifer had dumped him.
And he didn’t feel peaceful now. He was about to kill Russians. He’d never shot anything that could shoot back. Blood pounded in his temples. His hands were sweaty and his breath came a little too fast.
Calm down, he told himself. Focus. This was for Tate and Jim.
When the first truck was twenty yards away, he fired.
Chapter 24Ambush
AS SOON AS THE FIRST bullet leapt from Leo’s barrel, Anton and Bruce opened fire. Bullets sprayed the front windshield of the first truck. Leo racked his gun and fired repeatedly. He’d been hunting for so long, his movements were automatic.
The hood to the first truck flew open. The vehicle careened off the side of the road, rolling partway into the field before stopping. The cow, tied down in the back, lowed in distress.
As soon as the truck stopped, Leo spotted Tate and Jim. The two men were bound in the back near the cow, both thrashing in a vain attempt to get free.
They no longer had the element of surprise. The second truck accelerated, bearing down on them. One Russian rose out of the open passenger-side window, machine gun spraying fire. Leo ducked behind an oak tree, breath catching as he felt bullets thud into the wood behind his back.
Shit. Now what? Bruce was also hiding behind a tree, doing his best to avoid the gunfire. Anton returned fire from the other side of the road.
Leo dropped to his stomach and rolled to the right as bullets peppered the area. His angle was all wrong for firing at the Russian in the passenger seat. Instead, Leo aimed at the front wheel of the oncoming truck.
He exhaled and pulled the trigger. His shot flew true. The front driver’s side tire popped. The truck fishtailed. The cow in the back went crazy, lowing and straining against the ropes that held it in place.
He aimed a second time, this time at the back tire of the driver’s side. It wasn’t so different from hunting a wild pig. He fired twice.
There was a loud clunk as the second truck listed to one side and skidded to a stop. The two Soviets leaped out, hiding behind open doors to return fire.
Leo stayed low to the ground, giving himself half a second to assess the situation. It wasn’t so different from what he’d done as a quarterback. He could assess an entire scene in the blink of an eye.
The driver of the first truck was dead, shot through the windshield by Leo. The second Soviet was in a shoot-off with Anton on the other side of the road. Tate and Jim were still tied up in the back, struggling to get free while bullets flew around them.
The second truck was more problematic. Leo didn’t have a clear shot at either of them. The Soviets rained fire down on the oak stand while Leo and Bruce fired back.
Leo needed to come at them from the side. A quarterback sneak, he thought.
“Cover me,” he said to Bruce. If it was one thing the tight end knew how to do, it was cover his quarterback. Even if they were playing with guns instead of footballs and the opponents were communist invaders.
Leo army crawled as fast as he could across the grass. The yellow blades didn’t provide much cover. Under the moonlight, he was exposed for anyone who was looking. His hope was to get at the Russians before they thought to look for him in the field. He had a reputation for being a sneaky quarterback.
Bruce kept firing, keeping all attention on the oak stand. Leo crawled as fast as he could, silently thanking Coach Brown for all the damn bear crawl drills he made them do.
Another ten yards of crawling and the Russian behind the driver’s side door came into view.
Leo zeroed in on the enemy soldier. His mouth was dry. His heart hammered in his chest. Popping up out of the grass, he opened fire.
Nerves made his hand shaky. The first shot flew wide. Dammit. He summoned the calm he reserved for the football field. His fingers stilled. He fired two more shots.
The first Russian dropped.
Leo threw himself back to the ground and rolled as the second Russian shifted his attention and opened fire. He came around the truck and sprinted across the road, coming straight for Leo.
“Cover me!” he screamed. “Bruce!”
“I’m out of bullets,” Bruce shouted back.
Leo didn’t come out here to die tonight. He sure as fuck wasn’t going down in the dirt like a coward.
He sprang to his feet and returned fire. The sneaky Russian dropped down into the shallow ditch beside the road. It wasn’t a deep ditch, but it was just deep enough to provide cover. The tip of the machine gun poked over the side, spraying fire.
Leo threw himself back to the ground, hissing as a bullet grazed his shoulder.
They needed machine guns. Rifles couldn’t complete with the sophisticated weapons of the Russians.
How was he going to take out
