Giving him a three-step lead, Devlin followed.
*******
FOUR MINUTES LATER...
Just inside the tree line, each with a knee on the ground and both hands on their MP5s—muzzles down—Devlin and Randall surveyed the two-story lush retreat located the span of home plate to second base away from them. In the middle of the snow-covered lawn, where the pitcher’s mound would have been, was a perfect circle of hibernating grass.
She dipped her forehead an inch. “How many armed men do you think are in the house?”
“I guess that would depend on how confident Crane feels...that he’s beyond the reach of American justice. Then again, this,” he wavered, “this whole thing just feels off to me.”
“Off how?”
“I wish I knew.” A moment. “I think we should expect at least four men inside...plus Crane.”
Devlin gave him a quick peek. “So how do we breach? There must be another entry point on the front side of the house. Simultaneous entries?”
He grinned at her. “Look at you, throwing around those tactical terms.”
She huffed. “Please. I said I was out of my element, not ignorant.”
Randall faced the dwelling. “If we knew more about the layout and the ‘opfor,’ I’d go with—that means opposing force.”
“Thanks for the clarification. That one I didn’t know.”
“I’d go with simultaneous tactical entries. But, in this case, I’d feel better if we pick a door and go in together. Keep our firepower combined.”
“So which door?”
Three seconds passed.
Randall’s head bobbed down and up once. “The back door.”
Devlin flicked her eyes his way. “Why that one?”
“Because I just did ‘Eeny-Meeny-Miny-Moe’ in my head, and the front door lost.”
“What? Are you kidding me? That’s how you paramilitary guys make decisions?”
Randall smiled. “Only the major ones. No. Seriously, I prefer not to go,” he made a half circle with a down-turned finger, “all the way around the house—and risk being spotted—when there’s a perfectly good way in staring right at us.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to flip a coin to back up your logic?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Devlin.” A beat. “We reserve coin tosses for when the shooting starts. Okay, after I pick the lock...”
She let a thin grin come and go.
“...you open the door on my command, and I’ll make entry first.”
“Then what?”
“Then we’ll clear the first floor before moving to the second. Since we don’t know the floor plan, we’ll have to make adjustments as we go. Stay on my right and cover our three o’clock. I’ll be depending on you doing your job just as you’ll be relying on me doing mine.”
She nodded. “Copy that.”
“We’re new at this, Jessica—working together. Just like the timing between a quarterback and wide receiver, we need to get used to each other’s moves. So we stay in constant communication and stick to the basics. I lead. You follow. I’ll cover my half. You cover your half. We clear the house. Get our man. Go home.”
“While I’m more of a hockey fan, I get the gist of the analogy.”
“And most importantly...”
Devlin heard his voice go deeper and become more serious.
“...if you encounter someone with a gun, you drop him. Am I clear? No shouting commands. No waiting for him to point a weapon at you. You drop him where he stands and move on. We have to trust the Intel. And the Intel says a wanted fugitive is,” Randall poked a finger straight ahead, “in that house. So anyone with a weapon is aiding that fugitive.”
Her chest heaved, and she expended the captive air while the President’s words from a few days ago rushed into her brain...
“Your team will be operating out of a black budget, Jessica.”
The marshal glanced down at her submachine gun. This isn’t the States. “We’re operating in the black.”
“That’s correct.” He readied a lock pick gun and staged it on his vest. “And, just like the mountain back there, you got this. You ready?”
She faced him. “Ready. Let’s finish this.”
“Stay on my six, Raven. We’ll make less of an imprint on the landscape should anyone be peeking out a window. And, if lighting is good inside, we’ll switch to red dot scopes.” He gave her a second look. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” She paused. “I’ve just never had a call sign before. It’s a little weird.”
He smiled. “You’ll get used to it.” A tick later, Randall lifted his balled hand toward her. “Take one for you.”
She eyed the gesture that she and Blake Hawkins had shared each time the two had gone into dangerous situations. The torch now having been passed to Randall, she bumped his knuckles with hers and said the second half of the refrain. “Not if I take one for you first.”
Hunched over, Randall motioned, “On me,” and dashed into the open.
In a similar, crouched fashion, Devlin ran after him.
*******
THIRTY SECONDS LATER...
Finding the back door already unlocked, Randall opened it a hair, shut one eye, and peered through the crack. His ears picking up noise from a television, he eased the door shut, raised his NVGs, killed the IR laser on the MP5, and made sure the long gun’s red dot scope was on.
Devlin performed the same adjustments to her optics and weapon.
He pointed two fingers at his eyes, held up an index finger, and chopped a flat hand toward the door twice.
She pieced together the signals and nodded.
He backed up and shouldered his MP5.
She clutched the doorknob and faced him.
He dipped his chin once.
She opened the door.
Randall raised the H&K and slipped inside.
Devlin sneaked in behind him and closed the door without making a sound.
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
.
Chapter 28
Shift Change
1:16 A.M.
The long kitchen had dark brown oak cabinets and stainless-steel appliances on either side. Copper-bottom pots and pans, and cooking utensils hung from under-cabinet hooks near the stove.
Dark-colored flooring under his boots, Randall peeped over four small duffle bags lined up on an island in the center of the kitchen before ducking back behind the barrier.
Bent over at the waist, Devlin crept up to him.
Not knowing the extent to which she understood hand signals,
