Page 96 of Out of Control

Drago lay at the far end of one of those shooting alleys now. Spencer was set up off to his right at the end of another one. They would both aim back toward the hut, which would let them shoot at will without having to worry about taking each other out.

Spencer’s hide lay between the hut and the road. To that end, Drago asked over one of the throat microphones from Spencer’s gear bag, “Any movement on the road?”

“Negative. I promise, I’ll call incoming when they get here.”

“Think you’ll hear them, or will they park a ways off and hike in?”

“I think they’ll be arrogant. They’ll drive in close and only hike the last bit. My guess is Hamza will come in with at least four of his own security men and a couple of Khoury’s cell members.”

“In that scenario, I see Khoury’s guys being sent in as cannon fodder to draw us out. Once he sees how much firepower we’ve got, he’ll send in his guys to ambush us and take us out.”

“Exactly. Remember, only take single shots. No automatic fire. We want them to think we’re working with the most rudimentary firearms. And don’t change position if at all possible. We want them to get a solid fix on where we are.”

“Right. And no fire suppressors at first. You can quit worrying, Captain Fussypants. I was listening when we talked this over the first time.”

“Sorry,” Spencer sighed. “I worry about you.”

He responded quietly, “I worry about you too.”

They settled into silence then, each going through their own personal routine to clear their minds and prepare for split-second violence.

Drago was sure this would go down fast and be over in just a few minutes, one way or the other.

“Movement on the road,” Spencer breathed. “A large SUV slowing. Turning onto the driveway. Headlights off. Here we go.”

DRAGO SETTLED,his entire body relaxing into the cold ground. Its dampness was almost comforting as he became one with his environment. The rifle became an extension of his body, the telescopic sight an extension of his eye.

The minutes ticked by as whoever was in the SUV got out, armed up, and crept toward the hut. Surely they knew that he and Spencer would not be inside. Nobody but the rankest amateur would be that dumb.

There.A man creeping through the woods just crossed the shooting alley about halfway between Drago and the hut. They’d agreed to let the first wave of men get right up on the hut before they started taking them out.

A second man crossed his shooting lane, then came back into the cleared track to proceed inbound toward the hut.Idiot.The easiest path was never the best one in a hunting situation.

The guy’s back made a large, easy target. A hundred yards out from the hut. Eighty yards. Fifty.

The man stopped. At some unseen signal, he and several other noisy forms raced toward the cabin all at once.

It was too easy. Drago exhaled fully, held his breath, and squeezed gently through the trigger. The man fell forward dramatically. If the shot had found its mark in the back of his neck, the guy had been dead on impact and now lacked a face.

Two loud shots rang out from Spencer’s direction.

Drago swung his rifle slightly to the right to watch the right corner of the hut visible from this spot. A shadow slid into sight, and he took aim, exhaled, and fired again.

This one screamed as Drago’s first round hit somewhere on his torso. Drago squeezed off a second round, which slammed into the target’s throat, silencing him for good. Two more shots rang out from Spencer’s position, deafeningly loud in the night. He’d shot three times, Spencer, four.

He switched his weapon from single shots to full automatic and checked that the extended magazine was properly seated. Last but not least, he pulled down the night optical devices from the helmet Spencer had insisted he wear and settled them over his eyes. The forest jumped out at him in lime green and black outline. Any heat signatures would show up as bright white blobs. Ready to rock and roll.

He waited, listening fiercely now. They expected Hamza’s main security men would move in next, possibly from behind them. The idea was to draw those guys in close and not get into an extended game of hide-and-seek in the woods with trained professionals.

Drago’s shoulder blades literally itched with the need to roll over on his back and scan the woods behind him. But at the moment he was neatly covered up by a heat-reflecting blanket that would disguise his heat signature to anyone else out there wearing night optical equipment.

He had only a split second’s warning. He rolled, taking the rifle with him just as a huge, bright white heat source erupted from behind a tree no more than twenty feet behind him.

He pulled the trigger, releasing a deadly burst of lead. At least three of the high-caliber rounds caught the attacker in the chest. The hostile flew backward from the force of the lead slamming into his body. Before he’d hit the ground, Drago was up and running, sprinting to his next shooting position. This hide placed a large tree trunk at his back, giving him a two-hundred-seventy-degree field of fire, which he scanned quickly.

No heat signatures.

A single click came across his earbud.Spencer.

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