The tailored suit dropped the flashlight, then collapsed to the floor. The light clanged off the marble, then rolled on its side. Angered Chinese voices and shouting echoed through the halls of the sprawling house.
I tapped Jackal on the shoulder. He leaned forward, peered around the corner of the hallway, and checked the corridor for any movement.
“We’re clear.” Jackal stepped over the dead body with me in tow. We moved at a good clip, staying close to the walls and concealed within the darkness of the hallway.
I checked our backs, sweeping the hallway for any shooters looking to clip us as we made our getaway.
Beams of light traced along the floor toward our position, highlighting a small portion of Jackal’s body. The hammering of gunfire erupted from the blackness before us. We sunk into the wall, scooted past a closed door, and took cover behind a large pillar.
“How much farther we got?” Jackal asked, shouting over the cacophony of gunfire.
The swarm of incoming rounds punished the pillar. Fragments rained to the marble floor.
“Far enough for it to be a bitch to get to in the dark,” I replied. “Doesn’t matter, though. We have to get out of here and to the airport now, or we can kiss our payday and lives, goodbye.”
“Cover your ears and close your eyes.” Jackal dug his hand into the pocket of his coat, fishing out some sort of black cylinder. He waited for the gunfire to ebb, pulled the pin, then tossed it down the hallway.
The canister clanged off the marble floor and tumbled toward Gao’s men who surged up the corridor. A loud explosion sounded, followed by a blinding light.
The inbound shooters stopped dead in their tracks–footfalls silenced.
I waited a few seconds, then cracked open both lids.
Gao’s men staggered about, dazed and confused. Their weapons and flashlights lowered, giving us our chance to move.
Jackal swung out from the pillar with his rifle at the ready. I followed at his side. We mowed down the disoriented men with tactical precision.
Body after body crumpled to the floor. Screams of agony fled their lips before falling silent. We placed additional rounds into each shooter that twitched and moaned from the flats of their backs.
We moved up the hallway side by side while we searched for a way out of the house. I spotted a set of glass double doors a few paces ahead of us. “There. We can— Watch out.”
A set of lights rounded the corner, then gunshots erupted from the darkness.
I shoved Jackal toward the glass doors, then rolled to the side against the far wall. The incoming rounds looked like fireflies buzzing through the air. I held fast, waiting for Gao’s men to reload.
Jackal tested the doorknob, then rammed his foot in the center of the doors. They buckled, then swung outward.
A rush of cool wind breached the house, followed by a high-pitched howl. He craned his neck and skimmed over the outside of the home with his rifle.
Bullets punched the wall near the narrow gap I hid behind. A stray round caught the outer edge of my coat. I tucked my arm into my side. More hammered the wall near me, drawing closer.
Jackal motioned with his fingers, pointing at me, then nodding at the door. He leaned out from the concealment of the wall and returned fire.
I ran across the wide corridor firing blindly. Bullets zipped by me, grazing past the top of my bald scalp. I dove through the opened doorway and down the few steps.
The stone patio cushioned my fall as I tumbled end over end. My head caught a sharp edge of rock, taking a small slice of flesh from my scalp.
Jackal retreated down the stairs, unloading the magazine until it clicked empty. “You good?”
The gash on my head stung, but I ignored the bite of the cut. “Yeah.” I got to my feet and moved toward the garage.
Jackal ejected the magazine, discarding it to the ground. He pushed in a fresh one, slapped the side of the rifle, then cycled a round.
I shouldered mine and traversed the few steps down to the driveway. The area looked clear—free of any shadowy figures or beams of lights tracking through the shrubs or trees that covered the lawn.
Jackal turned, ran across the patio, then down the steps after me.
I tested the driver’s side door. It opened with ease. I slipped inside the plush driver’s seat, then looked for the keys.
Jackal stopped, turned toward the house, then dropped to one knee. He fired at the beams of light that stormed from the open door.
The men scattered like roaches, taking cover wherever they could.
The interior light of the large SUV illuminated the dash and black-leather seats. I searched for the keys, checking every nook and cranny.
Incoming rounds pelted the side of the Suburban and the driver’s side door. I flinched, ducked, and slammed the door closed.
Jackal retreated, darting around the front end to the far side of the truck.
I grabbed the visor and pulled down. The keys dropped into my lap. I slipped them inside the ignition, then turned the engine over. It roared to life.
Fire spat from the muzzle of Jackal’s rifle.
White flashes lit the scowl on his face as he fired from across the hood of the SUV. Spent casings pinged off the vehicle like coins in a slot machine.
I thumbed the switch to the headlights, then pounded my fist on the dash.
Jackal ceased fire, then opened the passenger side door. He hopped up inside the cab and slammed his door shut. “Anytime now would be good.”
“Waiting on you,” I shot back. I grabbed the gear shift on the
