Katie’s heart stopped. Sean stood before her on the front step. Miguel must have shot her. She must be dead. Sean was dead. He couldn’t be standing there in front of her. It wasn’t possible. Her mind raced while her body remained rigid. Her mouth froze. She was unable to speak for fear of stopping the vision.
Katie felt a hand push at her as the world exploded in her ears. A flash from Sean. She was seeing the light. She was dead.
The wife opened the door and just stood agape looking at him. Sean had the pistol up and ready. His plan was fairly simple, kill anybody that was a threat and get information on the boy from whoever was left. Time was of the essence.
A hand pushed at the woman as one of the Mexicans came from behind the door, obviously keen to find out who was there as the woman had just become comatose. As he spotted Sean, he tried to put the woman between him and Sean but Sean had him and squeezed off a round, catching the Mexican between the eyes. He dropped to the floor already dead.
Sean knew there was at least one more shooter and with no time to sugarcoat his actions, he pushed the wife to the floor and stormed into the house. She screamed almost as soon as she hit the floor. The Mexican’s brain matter did not make the most pleasant of landing spots.
Two rounds thudded into the doorframe next to Sean, indicating that the other shooter was in the room opposite. Sean had to keep moving. He dived across the hallway and positioned himself against the wall. All he needed now were a couple of flash bangs and he’d be good to go. One through the doorway quickly followed by himself. Bang bang bad man down. Easy.
A blast of gunfire had Sean falling to the ground. A white-hot pain seared though his leg. Sean grabbed at his leg and was rewarded with a moistness that screamed blood. Sean looked for another shooter before the realization of the American dream home hit home. The walls were paper-thin. The shooter had hit him through the wall. Another burst of fire tore another line of holes. Fortunately the shooter had gone higher and not lower; he hadn’t realized he had already hit Sean.
“Fuck this,” thought Sean diving for the doorway. The rounds were working away from the door not towards it.
As Sean fell into the room, the young Mexican’s rifle was pointing at the far wall. Sean didn’t hesitate and double tapped him. One in the chest and one in the head; it always paid to make sure.
As Sean struggled to get to his feet, the wife rushed in and threw her arms around him. Her brain coated lips making straight for his.
“Whoa,” Sean grabbed her by the arms and held her back at arms length. “I’m not who you think I am!”
“Sean, it’s me! Katie!” she replied excitedly, ignoring his words.
“I’m not Sean!” replied Sean rather awkwardly. “Well, I am Sean, just, not your one,” he clarified even more awkwardly.
As a look of confusion began to register, a screech of tires from the front drive caught both their attention.
Alexa was first out and had her AS Val rifle up and ready to fire, the silenced assault rifle was the favored weapon of the Russian Spetsnaz forces.
As Alexa rushed towards the door, Pyotr covered her expertly. The dead body sprawled across the doorstep gave them all the warning they needed. They entered the house, weapons very hot. As Alexa covered the doorway, Pyotr rushed forward. They would clear the house room by room, systematically, just as the Spetsnaz instructors had trained them.
As Pyotr entered the hallway, Sean, reacting to the screeching tires, rushed from the living room. Sean’s weapon was up and ready but so was Pyotr’s and he was already aiming at Sean’s doorway. Pytor hit the trigger before Sean and three bullets instantly spat out of the silenced barrel.
“NO!” was the only sound that could be heard. The female scream covered even the modest spit of the silenced rifle.