Assuming he could get there without notice. He had no clue how many Tangos stood between his current position and the cabin.
As it turned out, that number was two. The team hunting them had taken up position along the tree line, which made sense for monitoring and targeting. But the tactic left them at a clear disadvantage from the rear. They had no one guarding their sixes. No doubt they considered that vulnerability negligible. They were attacking at dawn after all, while everyone lay sleeping. There shouldn’t have been anyone in the forest for them to worry about. Hell—there wouldn’t have been, if it hadn’t been for a bitchy ghost.
Taking advantage of their vulnerability, Rawls fell back, easing from tree to tree. The second Tango blended into the shrubbery, but Rawls’s experienced eyes picked up on him immediately.
With the element of surprise on his side, and his visitor’s blade in his hand, Rawls had the second guy limp and on the ground in seconds. The third Tango was posted several yards to the right of the cabin. Another few seconds and his path to the window was clear. He wiped the blade on a tuft of grass and holstered the knife.
So far the team members had been positioned every fifty feet, give or take. Which meant he should have easy access to the window. Should being the operative word. You couldn’t count on logic or patterns, and leaving cover for open ground was always a gamble.
Still, it had to be done. So he crouched and rushed the window. With each abbreviated stride, the muscles of his back twitched in anticipation of a bullet or a blade.
Behind him the forest remained silent. Tranquil.
Reaching the window, he crouched and carefully pushed it to the left. So far so good . . . one last quick scan behind him, and he hoisted himself up and swung his feet inside. Carefully he eased himself back down, simultaneously shifting the rifle to the front so it wouldn’t get hung up on the window seal.
“What the fucking hell, you stupid motherfucker,” a harsh raspy voice growled as Rawls’s boots touched down on the wood floor.
Rawls raised his head and found a fully clothed and booted Mac glaring at him from the open bedroom door.
“The fucking window? Are you shitting—” His tirade cut off at the finger Rawls held to his lips. Mac’s dark eyes dropped, completing a quick up-and-down scan that took in every smear of blood on Rawls’s clothes.
Pivoting, Rawls eased the window closed again, and when he turned back, Mac was inches away.
“How many?” Mac asked in a low rumble.
“Every fifty feet.” Rawls calculated the length of the compound and doubled it. “Twenty-five—give or take.”
“How the hell did they get past the sensors? Wolf has this place wired to the gills,” Mac growled.
Rawls shrugged, but he could guess—Pachico. The bastard must have done something to the security system. Damn it, he should have expected something like this, took steps to prevent it. Instead, he’d let his preoccupation with Faith and his current situation blind him.
Mac glanced at the bloodstains.
Rawls shook the frustrated guilt off. Wallowing in regret wouldn’t help them. “I dropped three. We’re clear from here to west of the helipad.”
With a curt nod, Mac snatched the radio from Rawls’s grasp. “Zane and Cos can get their women into the tunnels. We need to grab Amy and her kids. Faith is in their cabin too. We’ll grab all four of them and hustle them below.”
“Faith’s in the kitchen,” Rawls said. He glanced at the radio and raised a brow. “They’ll be monitorin’ the channels.”
“No shit.” Mac grimaced. “Let’s hope Winters and Cosky are as smart as they think they are.” Mac’s voice turned grim. He shot a glance at Rawls. “You’ll need to get the doc underground. Grab the sat phone while you’re there. We’ll rendezvous in the hub.” He stared down at the radio for a moment and grimaced. “Let’s hope like hell those bastards circling us are monitoring the channels. We don’t have time to take the tunnels to grab the gals.” He glanced toward the window and lifted the radio to his mouth.
“Alpha two, three, and four.” Mac keyed the radio. “Jude’s taken a turn for the worse. We can’t wait for the medevac, that appendix needs to come out now. Doc will do the surgery, but we’ll need all hands on deck. Rawls is on his way to the lodge to get the med kit. The rest of us will rendezvous with Amy in the hub.” He paused. “Copy?” A static crackle followed by two calm affirmatives. “Amy? You copy?”
At Amy’s quiet confirmation, Mac tossed Rawls the radio and waved him away.