"Back patio is clear. High-value targets secure," Fayed said over the radio.
Melendez scanned the area between the house and the waterline, searching for a concealed shooter. It looked clear.
"West side clear. Approaching the pool from the west," he said, making sure Munoz and his crew didn't accidentally fire on him.
"Assault team securing targets. Approach clear."
Melendez took off running.
Daniel passed a short hedgerow on the eastern side of the house and searched for the single guard watching the southeastern shoreline. Unlike the sentries stationed between the house and road, this one hadn't moved more than ten feet while they watched from Ledge Point. He located the heavily armed sentry exactly where he expected. The man raised his hand to block the sun as he scanned the lake. Daniel edged forward a little further, completely exposed. He kept an eye on the guard as he approached the corner of the house. He wanted to make sure the sentry's sudden collapse wouldn't attract attention. Their position on Ledge Point didn't provide them with much information regarding the disposition of True America's guard deployment behind the house.
He reached the corner and crouched, taking a careful look beyond. He saw a large deck with stairs leading down to a patio. Three men sat comfortably around a low table, drinking from tumblers. He recognized them immediately from their online research. Mills, Greely and Harding. Beyond a blue slate infinity pool, he counted three additional guards near the foot of the dock on the beach. This might require some timing.
The guard to Daniel's left suddenly turned and started running for the house. They locked eyes, but Daniel had years of experience on the man, which translated into quickness and zero hesitation. A lethal combination on the battlefield. He fired two shots before the man could process the fact that Daniel wasn't part of their guard detail. Both projectiles hit him in the face.
Realizing that someone had sounded the alarm, Daniel leaned around the corner and aimed for the guards past the pool. He saw them drop from sight, leaving thin vapors of red mist above their vanishing heads. He aimed up at the deck, finding it clear of threats. Munoz and his team emerged from one of the sliding doors below the deck on the ground level, aiming at the three high-value targets still holding their drinks, relatively oblivious to what had just transpired. Jackson Greely placed his glass on the table and stood up, searching for the guards near the beach. He stumbled backward, spilling Lee Harding's glass out of his hand and nearly landing in his lap. Mills ran for the house with the drink in his hand, knocking one of the chairs out of the way. He was intercepted by Paracha, who butt-stroked him in the face with his carbine, knocking the CEO of Crystal Source to his knees and breaking his nose. He grabbed the overweight man by the collar of his tailored shirt and yanked him to his feet, pushing him back toward the pool.
Daniel jogged forward to join them, anxious to get this over with. With any luck, he could be headed south with Jessica by nightfall. He heard Melendez report his approach from the west and glanced up at the deck to make sure they hadn't missed anyone. Satisfied for the moment, he turned all of his attention to the three psychopaths being searched by the assault team. He missed the Jamaican's appearance on the deck by less than a second.
Brown eased through the Vista Room in a low, tactical stance, scanning with the barrel of his AR-15. So far, he had detected no movement in the house, which led him to believe that the teams had flanked the mansion and converged on his coconspirators. He heard a scuffle outside, followed by the sound of patio furniture screeching against stone. A few harsh voices joined the activity, followed by the sound of Mills crying out in agony. He wondered why agents hadn't flooded the house. Why didn't he hear the sound of helicopters or support vehicles?
The backyard was quiet beyond guttural voices and the occasional protest from Mills or Harding. All of these thoughts and observations floated through his head as he stepped quietly toward the open door. Through the massive wall of picture windows facing the lake, his view of the rippling, dark blue water transitioned into sandy beach and rocks, exposing the three guards sprawled in the grass. Everything had been so quiet. He was impressed. A sudden realization washed over him. This could be the same crew that had abducted Miguel Estrada and stopped the assassination team assigned to kill Benjamin Young in Atlanta. A glimmer of hope flashed in his mind. He might be facing a small team.
He flipped the G33STS Magnifier down, exposing the EOTech sight. He anticipated engaging targets at close range in the backyard and would have no use for the 3X optic attachment. The edge of the infinity pool appeared over the deck, followed by Mills and Harding. A dark-haired, dark-skinned man stood next to Mills. A little further and the whole scene would come into focus. Four men armed with rifles stood around the three founders of True America. Brown thumbed the rifle's selector switch to "auto" and aimed at two of the operatives standing in tandem. Lee Harding's torso was clearly visible behind them, which didn't make an impression on Brown one way or the other.
He depressed the trigger for a sustained burst, shifting the EOTech's red holographic sight image to the next target. A 7.62mm bullet penetrated his right eye and exited his skull before he could aim the next burst. Brown could still see out of his other eye and was vaguely aware that his body had ceased to function. He never felt the fusillade of bullets fired from the pool patio.
The smell of scotch floated in the air between the confused men. Daniel leaned over the table to pour the three terrorists another round of drinks. They would need a little something to numb them for what he had planned. The crystal decanter exploded in Daniel's hand, followed by the thunderous explosions, as 5.56mm bullets ripped through the air, shattering everything in their path. He felt a sharp pain in his left shoulder and realized he had been spun ninety degrees to face Munoz and Fayed, who pointed their smoking rifles upward at the deck. Daniel saw a dark figure drop out of sight below the railing, followed by a cascade of glass from one of the immense picture windows high above him. The glass fragments tumbled over the side of the deck, bringing him back to his senses.
He turned back to their three prisoners. Lee Harding's head lolled to the left, his arms and legs lightly twitching. His glassy eyes stared lifelessly forward, drawing Daniel's attention away from the small red hole visible above his right eyebrow. Jackson Greely looked unharmed, staring blankly at Harding's grotesque post mortem display. Mills started to stand, but was pushed back into his chair by Fayed, who stared past Daniel with a look of dismay. As Daniel's hearing recovered and the initial shock of being shot faded, he heard the desperate rasping sounds of the man who had been standing right behind him when the automatic fire started. He didn't need to turn around to know that Tariq Paracha had absorbed most of the steel fired from the deck.
Fayed shoved the table aside as Daniel wheeled around to see Paracha on his back, clawing at his blood-soaked neck. He could see two other entry wounds, one in his upper chest and another high on the front of his left thigh. The vast amount of blood pooling on the stone under his hips signaled to Daniel that the bullet passing through his thigh had likely severed or nicked his femoral artery. Combined with a neck shot, there would be little they could do for Tariq. They hadn't been equipped with a first aid kit, let alone a trauma kit.
"Watch them and keep an eye on the house. We can't afford any more surprises," Daniel said.