Page 74 of Rising Tiger

She ejected her spent magazine, inserted a fresh one, and then, using the butt of her weapon, her booted foot, and her shoulder, punched her way through the drywall and into the closet of the apartment on the other side. Closing the door to the first closet, she quickly stepped into the adjacent apartment.

She had just officially recaptured the advantage.

What she’d do in the next ninety seconds would make all the difference.

CHAPTER 40

In the neighboring apartment, Asha had already cracked the front door. She had planned to ambush the four G-Company men as they ran past, maybe even get them killed in a crossfire if their colleagues in the other stairwell popped up and began shooting. Unfortunately, these guys weren’t as dumb as she had hoped they would be. In fact, they were apparently quite disciplined.

The team of two at the far stairwell remained in place. Of the four men in the nearer stairwell, two came down the hall, while the other two hung back. This meant that if Asha stepped into the hall after they had passed, she would get shot in the back. That was a less-than-optimal outcome.

At this point, the only effective plan of attack she could see was to go back through the closet, reenter the spotter’s apartment, and shoot the two men when they made their entry. They would, however, come in expecting an attack—especially when they saw their colleague gagged and trussed up on the living room floor.

There had to be another way, but not coming up with any, she hurried toward the closet and the hole leading through the wall back into the other apartment.

That was when Raj’s voice came over her earpiece. “Help is on the way. North staircase.”

Asha paused and looked at her tablet. Headed slowly up the stairs was a lone and somewhat larger figure than the others. “Is that who I think it is?” she asked.

“Yes, it’s me,” Gupta replied over his radio. “These fucking stairs are killing me, but I’m almost there. I can’t see any of what you’re seeing, so just tell me when, and I’ll take out the two men at the top.”

This was not at all how she had expected things to go down, but she appreciated the help and would take it however she could get it. Quickly she moved back to where she had been positioned at the front door of apartment number two.

Shifting her attention back to the tablet and the men coming down the hall, she gauged their timing and marked Gupta’s location. “Are you in position?” she asked.

“Affirmative,” he whispered.

“On my mark, then,” she replied. “In five… four… three… two… one…now.”

The north stairwell erupted in gunfire as Asha kicked open the door with her boot.

She caught both men, who were armed only with pistols, completely by surprise and couldn’t have timed her attack any more perfectly. Just as they were beginning to spin to address the shooting behind them, she leaned out of the doorway and lit them up with her suppressed submachine gun, dropping them where they stood.

Before the men in the south stairwell could return fire, she had ducked back inside the apartment and had taken cover.

Bullets tore up the doorframe, but the shots were being fired one at a time; semiautomatic. Most likely, these guys were also using pistols.

Glancing at the tablet, she saw that Gupta had succeeded in ambushing the men at the top of the north stairs and had taken both of them out. That meant that this fight was now two versus two.

Her biggest question was what to do with Gupta. Have him hold and cover the north stairs, or have him drop down a floor, cross over to the south stairs, and attack those two shooters from below while she engaged them from where she was—essentially creating a pincer movement?

Unfortunately, she never got the chance to answer her own question. The two remaining shooters made up her mind for her.

Charging into the hallway, one fired toward Gupta’s position in the opposite stairwell, while the other focused his fire on her door.

Asha risked breaking cover and ran for the closet and the opening to the other apartment. If these assholes were going to storm her position, the only thing they were going to get was practice.

As she ran, two rounds penetrated the door and slammed into her chest, hitting the ceramic plate. A couple of inches more to the side and they would have gone straight through her chest wall, puncturing her lung and maybe even piercing her heart—killing her on the spot.

The rounds were big and loud—.45 caliber, if she had to guess. It felt like being hit by a gorilla with a tire iron. The twin strikes had almost knocked the wind out of her. Nevertheless, her pace never slowed.

Charging through the closet and the hole in the drywall, she entered the spotter’s apartment, weapon up, ready to engage. She paused only long enough to make sure the man on the floor was still tightly restrained and then headed for the door. The two shooters coming down the hallway were in for a surprise.

She told Gupta to stay where he was. He had already been more than helpful and she didn’t want to put his life any further at risk.

Just as she had when leaving the spotter’s apartment, she had closed the closet door of the second apartment on her way back. It wouldn’t take them long to search the adjacent dwelling and find the hole, but she didn’t need a lot of time.

Watching on her tablet, she waited until they entered the unit next door and then slipped into the hall and, avoiding the bodies, rapidly headed toward them.

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