They were now down to three foes on the porch, and the trio weren't waiting to be picked off. One each crouched on either side of the door, using the porch furniture as shields, while the third, the smallest and most acrobatic of the guards, ran partly down the steps to the ground and then turned and crouched there, able to cover either of her companions or shoot in either direction.
None of them had spotted Maslovic above them and in the trees. "They're waiting for you on both sides," he warned them. "I'll take the one on the stairs."
Without even thinking about it, Sanchez on one side and Nasser on the other leaped over the railing and landed with rolls on the ground below, then got up and made their way out from the building and then forward, just ahead of their companions still on the porch but at just enough distance to be able to shoot anything that presented itself.
"No good, everybody stop!" Maslovic ordered. "Now, at my command, I'm going to take the stair shooter and I want the two on the ground to use their floater packs, go up and shoot low and wide on either side of the front door. Got it? Darch, you come forward as soon as you hear our shots and finish them off. Okay… Now!"
It was almost a textbook exercise. Although neither of the marines on the ground could see the nearly prone ambushers above, both could see the door and simply rose up and squeezed off an energy clip towards the lowest point on the porch. Maslovic fired as soon as he'd given the order, hitting the woman on the stairs squarely in the back before she even realized he was there. Nasser nailed one on the porch but did not put him completely out of action; the other sensed Sanchez and rolled on the porch as she came up to it. They both fired nearly at once, and both hit their marks. Sanchez dropped like a stone, but the man on the porch was going nowhere, either.
Rosen and Ndulu could see each other as the wounded but still dangerous last guard started firing in wide bursts. He barely missed Nasser but the marine was forced to drop back below the porch line. Shooting out, though, made the guard a perfect target for the two marines closing on his position, and in a double burst he was nearly fried.
As soon as all the opposition was clear, the discipline of the team showed as Ndulu and Rosen kept the door in their sights allowing Nasser and Maslovic to rush to Sanchez. Maslovic kneeled down, checked his companion, and saw that she was still breathing, although shallowly. The shot had been a lethal charge but had been mostly absorbed by the combat suit. It was pretty well shorted out, though, and that meant just insuring that Sanchez didn't suddenly die from shock. He gave her an injection that would help but didn't try the stimulants to bring her around. Without the suit capabilities and having taken that kind of shot, she'd be more a danger to herself than a help to the team if she came around right now.
"Darch, bring the van in closer but keep it out of visual range of the lodge. We still don't know if they have any nasty surprises in there," Maslovic called. "Sanchez is down on the ground to the west of the exterior stairs. She is out but will recover. Pick her up as soon as I call you in. Got that?"
"Aye, sir," Darch responded.
Broz immediately began the report from the ferret camera. "The cook and chief bodyguard inside are on either side of the door ready to blast anyone who comes in, but Schwartz is just sitting, apparently unarmed, on one of the big sofas there and Macouri has that gun in his hands but it's being held in a more or less relaxed position. He doesn't look very confident and may be deciding what to do. The two younger women have backed off to the kitchen area but appear to be just looking nervously back at the door waiting to see what will happen."
"Can you risk exposing a ferret?" Maslovic asked.
"I think so. I wouldn't want to expose the wide-camera one I'm looking at now, but the recon one's expendable if necessary. There's no obvious sound system to broadcast into that's on, but I could probably get the internal speaker levels loud enough to be heard. I think now's the time or they might take a stand. You want to do it or should I?"
"You go ahead. You can see what's going on in there better than I can. I don't want to obscure vision out here now. You never know when something's going to pop up."
"Very well. I'm going to try and position it for maximum effect and minimum target, up and to one side of the fireplace. The acoustics with that high ceiling should do, although I wish that damned ceiling fan was off."
"Just do it!"
Broz cleared her throat. "Attention! You inside! We are a marine field-strike team. All of your support outside has been neutralized."
Everybody inside jumped and began looking around to see where the sound was coming from. It wasn't booming or threatening, rather it was thin and distant, but they definitely could hear and understand it.
"By whose authority do you invade my property and wantonly kill my people?" Macouri shouted out, defiance in his tone.
"We are a special force unit under the command of Captain Kim of the naval cruiser Thermopylae," Broz responded. "Your-guests-can tell you more about it if they already haven't. You are engaged in illegal commerce with unknown alien forces."
"Alien! Poppycock! I deal in no forces that mankind hasn't been familiar with since its very beginning! You have no right to do this!"
"We have every right under our commission from the Earth System Combine, also known as the Confederacy of United Worlds."
"The Confederacy is dead! You are nothing but a bunch of pirates and thugs!" Georgi Macouri shouted, still looking up and around, trying to locate the speaker but being defeated by the diffuseness given to sound by the great room's design.
Got you there! thought Captain Murphy, watching the whole thing from the van.
"I am not going to argue with you, sir," Broz responded to the outburst. "We are in position. You have one minute. We may move at any time after that. If we continue military action we will continue it to its end. You will not be permitted to cause us harm and then give up. You understand that? I see that you do. No more debate. Your choice. Your free minute begins… now."
"Now, wait a minute…" Macouri began, but he suddenly realized that the point of no return was upon him. He looked over at his remaining guardians. "Joshua? What do you think?"
"We can take a few of 'em with us, sir!" the big man responded confidently.
"Perhaps, but a fat lot of good that does us." He was sweating in spite of the air conditioning, and his face showed real anguish. He turned to his companion on the sofa. "Magda?"
"What can they do, darling? Let them play soldier, then we'll buy them another spaceship or something to play with and everybody will be happy."
His teeth clenched, Macouri hissed, "Yes," although he clearly didn't like the choice. He turned around and looked at the ceiling again. "All right! All right! Resources are the better part of valor and all that! Joshua, Natasha-just put down your guns and stand by. I'm putting mine on the floor."
Joshua looked almost disappointed. "Whatever you say, sir," he responded, and both he and the hard-bitten cook put down their rifles and knives as instructed and walked over and stood behind their boss.
"I think you can go in now," Broz told Maslovic. "They look like they've given up."
Even with all that, the sergeant opened the door as if the ambush was still waiting, and Nasser and Rosen flanked either side of the double doors, weapons at the ready.
Maslovic took a deep breath and walked in. The two on either side followed him, still at the ready, and Ndulu, who was still bleeding but not badly from her earlier wound, brought up the rear directly in back of him.