Defiance: A House Divided (The Defending Home Series Book 2) (20 page)

“Travis, this is Zach. We’re nearly at our objective. Report.”

His radio crackled with static. “Almost at the Teletech plant,” Travis said. “Little to no resistance so far.”

Zach smiled. “Sounds like we caught ’em with their pants down. Sweep through and don’t bother leaving any survivors. See you back at base.”

“Roger that,” Travis confirmed.

The truck roared down Hugh’s street and Zach pointed at a large gated house on the corner. “There it is.” The mansion itself was far back from the road, positioned at the end of a long semicircular driveway. Many of the windows on the second story looked like they’d been reinforced. There was a chance they might come under heavy fire, which was why it was important to get as close as possible.

“The front gate’s closed,” Colton said, holding onto his shotgun with one hand and the door grip with the other.

“Not for long,” Zach replied, pushing down on the accelerator seconds before the Brinks truck crashed through the gate, flinging both metal doors off their hinges and into the air. Almost at once, rounds pinged off the hood and roof of the truck. Which was precisely what Zach wanted. Better that he took the fire than the more vulnerable trucks following them. He swung around the circular driveway and pulled up the truck right next to the front door. Two cartel members came out of the house as one of the men in the back, a ranger named Peter, pushed the barrel of his AR out the side gun port and opened up, cutting the men to pieces.

“Stay close,” Zach told Colton, as he grabbed his own AR. A second later everyone was out of their vehicles and heading toward the entrance. Zach took the lead, moving inside, scanning right and left for threats. Colton and the others were right behind him, making sure to cover every possible angle.

“Peter,” Zach said. “Take five men and sweep the lower levels. The rest, stay on me. We’re going upstairs.”

Instead of one, there were two curved staircases which rose to a common landing some twenty feet up. They climbed them at a good clip, being careful not to move too fast. A balcony wrapped around the staircase, which those in the rear covered to avoid getting shot in the back as they ascended. Once the house was eventually safe, they would link up with Travis’ group at the Teletech plant and help clear that out as well.

At the top of the staircase they came to a long hallway. “Colton, you and I will go right. Alex, you and Josh go left.” They nodded and moved off.

Zach padded down the hallway, making sure to take the lead. Several rooms were on either side of them. He cursed Reid and his opulence. Checking each of these would take time and expose them to even more danger. Father and son worked their way through a handful of rooms, their luck holding firm.

By the fourth, something akin to muscle memory began to set in. Zach would push open the door and enter scanning left while Colton would move to the right. Then each of them would check closets, bathrooms and under the bed before moving onto the next. The Brinks truck had taken fire from the second floor, so Zach was quite sure there were at least a few cartel members present. He had to stay sharp, no matter how many times they were forced to repeat the same clearing technique.

They were onto the fifth room when they took fire.

As usual, Zach pushed his way inside, moving left, Colton right. A cartel member popped up from behind the bed with an AK and got two rounds off before Colton blew him back against the wall with a chestful of double-aught buck.

Zach’s eyes were saucer-shaped and his heart slamming against his chest. He looked at Colton for wounds, then himself, and found none. Two large holes had been punched into the gyprock above the door frame.

“Good shot, son,” Zach said, patting the boy on the shoulder.

Colton smiled. “I guess I’m not just another pretty face.”

“Far from it,” Zach said, winking.

At the end of the corridor was a room with an open door. If Zach’s sense of direction was as good as he hoped it was, the windows in that room should look out over the driveway. Moving with a purpose, he and Colton came to a bend in the hallway which curved to the left. They would clear the room with the open door first, then move on.

Zach drew in a deep breath and stepped inside. The immediate view which greeted them was a pair of open windows, sandbags and odd bits of furniture stacked around them. An improvised firing position. But no signs of life. As usual, Zach moved left, Colton right.

There was a large, gilded bathroom, glittering before him. Zach would start by clearing that. He’d only taken two steps in that direction when the shots rang out, three of them in quick succession from an assault rifle. He spun to see Colton fall to the ground, and the barrel of a long gun sticking out from behind the open door. Zach shouted as he leveled his AR and filled the door with holes, shredding the cartel enforcer hiding behind it. The man fell forward, only his head and torso visible, and Zach kept on shooting. His rifle clicked empty but still he continued to pull the trigger.

That must have been the sound the grunt in the closet was waiting for because he charged out with a 9mm pistol. Zach threw his AR at the man, smacking him in the face with the rifle butt. The cartel enforcer recoiled for a moment, giving Zach the time he needed to pull his own pistol and start firing. Two shots struck the attacker’s chest, the other two his head. He tumbled back into the closet dead.

Then came sounds of men charging down the hallway. Zach pivoted in that direction and leveled his pistol.

“Whoa, it’s us,” Alex shouted. Josh was next to him. Both men’s eyes scanned the scene, settling on Colton, who was lying face down. Still in shock, Zach dropped to his knees and turned his son over. There were three large exit holes in his chest and a trail of blood running from the side of his mouth. He wasn’t breathing. Zach put the pads of his blood-soaked fingers to his neck and didn’t find a pulse. He pulled his son in close and wept.

Just then Zach’s walkie came to life. “We need backup,” Travis shouted. “Zach, are you there?”

Zach was rocking back and forth, still holding Colton. Alex reached over and grabbed his walkie. “Travis, this is Alex. What’s going on?”

Travis sounded out of breath. “This place is crawling with cartel. It’s like we hit a hornets’ nest. We engaged the guards out front and men just came swarming from every direction. Fernando Ortega’s here and he’s brought plenty of reinforcements. There must be fifty of them, maybe even a hundred. We’re pinned down. If you don’t get here quick, we’re all dead.”

Then came the sound of a truck roaring into the driveway. “What now?” Josh said, heading to the window. A second later, he turned to the others. “It’s Dale.”

Dale

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D
ale, Sandy and both of Nobel’s agents rushed into Reid’s mansion, not entirely sure what to expect. Five of Zach’s rangers came around the corner and confronted them before realizing they were friendlies.

“Where’s Zach?” Dale demanded.

Peter pointed up the stairs. “He took a group to clear the second floor. We were just about to head up there to check on them.”

“Where are the other rangers who are part of your offensive?”

“They’re at the Teletech plant,” he replied, sounding unsure if he should have said anything.

“Fernando’s in Encendido and he’s brought La Brigada with him,” Sandy told them.

“If they aren’t here,” Dale added, “it means they’re at the plant. Your men might be walking into a trap.”

“Are you sure about that?” Peter asked, starting up the stairs and then stopping.

Zach and the other rangers stood on the top riser, carrying a lifeless Colton by his arms and legs.

“Oh, no,” Sandy said in horror.

Dale felt sadness and then anger bubbling up from the deepest parts of him. This was precisely what he’d feared most, that Zach’s carelessness would destroy the only worthwhile thing he’d ever created—his son.

Dale rushed to check Colton’s vitals.

“He’s dead,” Alex said. “I’m sorry.”

Dale bit back the tears threatening to overwhelm him. Beside him, Sandy was crying. He put an arm around her.

“What did you do?” Dale shouted, shaking Zach.

“It wasn’t his fault,” Alex said, trying to intervene. “Colton was shot in the back by a cartel member hiding behind a door.”

Dale’s fiery gaze met Alex’s. “Of course it was Zach’s fault. That’s his son. It was his job to keep him safe.”

Zach’s face remained expressionless. 

“We don’t have time for this,” Alex told them. “Travis and the others are pinned down at the plant.”

“Here, take my truck,” Dale said, tossing Alex his keys. “All of you, meet us back at the community college.” He looked at Sandy. “That includes you.”

“You aren’t heading to the plant alone,” she said, and it was more of an order than it was a question.

“Of course not. Zach and I will take his armored truck, so he can save what’s left of his men.”

Zach regarded him with soulless eyes. It looked as though his son’s death had also killed a part of his soul. There would be time for tears and self-recrimination later. Right now there were men who needed saving.

•••

D
ale pulled the Brinks truck out of the driveway as Zach strapped himself into a seat at the back. Alex had given them the walkie, which Dale now handed to Zach.

“See if you can find out whether anyone’s still alive,” Dale ordered, tossing the walkie into his lap.

Zach glanced down at it as though it were a foreign object.

“You’re gonna need to snap out of your funk, Zach, and real quick.”

Tears were streaming down Zach’s cheeks as he put the walkie to his lips. “Travis, you there?”

No response.

The plant wasn’t more than a few minutes’ drive and already Dale could hear the sound of gunfire growing louder.

Zach called out to them again, but all that came back was a garbled response, punctuated by the deafening roar of a gun battle.

Ahead was an SUV parked sideways, blocking the road. Three cartel enforcers were standing next to it, but not facing the oncoming Brinks truck. They were facing the Teletech plant down the street. This must be a cordon Fernando had created to ensure that none of the attackers managed to break out.

“Hold on,” Dale said, accelerating.

The three cartel goons turned around about a second before Dale plowed into them. The Brinks truck shuddered violently as it blasted the SUV, sending it spinning off the road, scattering the dead bodies of the three men who had been standing before it.

As they drew closer, so too did the sound of gunfire.

“When I give you the signal, you need to pop that door open so they can climb onboard,” Dale said.

Zach nodded in a rare display of subservience.

In depressions on either side of the road were two pickup trucks. The one on the left was on fire, two dead rangers lying next to it. On the right was Travis, one of his arms covered in blood, crouching behind the wheel well. Beside him was another ranger, who was firing back at the cartel members as they closed in. Dale pulled next to the pickups and hit the brakes. The truck skidded to a stop as incoming rounds began impacting the vehicle. Some pinged off the armored body while others struck the bullet-resistant glass, causing spider webs to form.

“Now,” Dale called to Zach who swung open the door and charged out, braving the hail of bullets coming at them. The one ranger grabbed a wounded man and retreated to the vehicle, providing covering fire with his pistol as he did. Zach reached Travis, slung his lieutenant’s good arm around his neck and carried him toward the open door.

“This windshield’s about to give,” Dale shouted. Already much of it had become milky white from incoming rounds, making it difficult to see.

“We have two more wounded,” Travis said weakly. Zach charged out again, returning a minute later with another man.

Some cartel goons who had circled around their position popped up, firing into their exposed flank. Now rounds began to penetrate the weakened windshield. Dale ducked behind the dashboard for cover.

From the side door, two rangers returned fire on the cartel enforcers, wounding one and keeping the others’ heads down while Zach scrambled back with the last survivor.

They slammed the door shut and shouted for Dale to drive. He put the truck in reverse and floored it. The engine roared as Dale used the side mirrors to make sure he stayed on the road. The front of the truck was still getting peppered with fire and Dale worried his heart might seize in his chest. When at last they reached the open street, Dale hit the brakes and turned the wheel hard to the right. The lumbering truck did a one-eighty, suddenly facing south. But the windshield was so badly damaged Dale was driving blind. His Mossberg had been on the seat next to him and was now on the floorboard. He scooped it up and used the butt to knock out what was left of the windshield. It would leave them exposed on the drive back to the college, but at least they’d be able to see.

By the time they reached Nobel’s headquarters, one of the wounded rangers had died. Out of Travis’ original nine-man team, only three remained. The situation wasn’t looking good for the resistance. The EPM was diminished in number and largely demoralized. Meanwhile, Fernando Ortega had rolled into town right in the nick of time, saving the cartel’s wobbling hold over Encendido. It was frightening how quickly the winds of fortune could turn against you. Those were the thoughts spiraling through Dale’s mind as they sped into the college’s parking lot. Outnumbered and probably outgunned, could the resistance movements finally come together or was it already too late?

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T
hey arrived and quickly shuttled the wounded into a makeshift emergency room on the college’s main floor. Betty was there, along with a handful of others who possessed basic medical knowledge.

Zach, Dale and Sandy stood over Colton’s body as it was laid on a table in what had once been a classroom and was now a morgue. Nearby was the other dead ranger they’d attempted to rescue from the Teletech plant.