Just beyond the porch is a large picture window with two shadows reflecting off the light and I’m assuming one is Penny’s while the other is her husband’s. I don’t want to meet the man who has loved my wife and daughter when I couldn’t, but I know I need to thank him. And I need to tell him that I’m not here to take Penny away from him. She loves him. I’ll never stand in the way of that.
On the second floor one room is lit and I can faintly make out a shadow.
“Claire,” I mumble under my breath. If the guys hear me they don’t say anything.
Guns are raised and I’m quickly scanning the perimeter as to why. Rask still has us holding position and I’m desperately trying to see what he does. When I place my hand on Nate’s shoulder he points ahead, and I follow his finger until my eyes land on the basement. A flashlight is being turned on and off down there, and as I flip my goggles to infrared and do a quick scan I now know why Rask has us on the ready. There are four bodies when there should only be three.
“They have company,” Evan says, confirming what I’m seeing.
“Let’s move. Archers, take the front. Knock first. Let them have a chance to answer before you bust down their door. McCoy and I will take the back and see if we can dance with their intruder.”
Dance? No, the tango doesn’t interest me. Grabbing Frannie by the neck and squeezing the life out of her does, though, and as demented as it sounds I’m really hoping I have the chance to do that soon.
Rask and I duck under windows and pause when he points down to the ground, where glass and wood splinters are littered. I duck my head into the window and try to squeeze in, but can’t fit.
“Definitely a small-framed person,” I report to Rask.
“A man doesn’t leave a broken window like this lying around.”
“The glass is on the ground, making it seem like it was broken from inside,” I add, questioning why anyone would break the window from inside the house.
Rask’s face deadpans as he glances at me. I don’t want to know what he’s thinking, but if it’s anything like the thoughts running through my head right now, I’ll be aiming my gun at Ray Barnes while the rest of the team aim theirs at Frannie. I hate that I instantly think he can’t be trusted, but this seems suspicious.
“We need to move,” he says and I nod, hoping he understands that we need to consider multiple hostiles and proceed with our senses heightened. We step over the glass and around the corner to face the kitchen. The light above the door is broken with glass shards resting on the steps. Whoever did this is hoping that the occupants flee barefoot and cut themselves.
“God she’s sadistic.”
“And well trained,” Rask adds.
He tries the door, turning the handle easily. It makes me wonder if our intruder did the same thing or if she’s beaten us upstairs and unlocked the door for a hasty exit. We get our answer the moment we step into the house. The calm, eerie voice causes the fine hairs on my neck to stand tall. Each step that Rask and I take is calculated and meant to catch her off guard. Nate and Evan should also be in the house by now, but I don’t hear them, and calling out to them would be foolish, costing us the advantage.
“Do not answer the door,” the voice says from inside the room.
Rask pauses and glances slightly in my direction, nodding. The voice belongs to Frannie Riveria—just as we suspected—and explains why Nate and Evan aren’t in the house. In front of us is an entryway into the living room where I’m suspecting Frannie is since that’s the last place I saw the shadows of the two people I assumed to be Penny and Ray.
Rask and I quickly enter the room just as the Archers come in, but we’re too late. Frannie stands in the center of the room with Penny sitting in a chair, her hands duct taped to the armrests. A gun is pressed up against her flesh, penetrating Penny’s temple. It takes everything in me not to rush forward to knock Frannie down and cover Penny for safety reasons, but I don’t. I do what my training has ingrained me to do and steady my rifle onto Frannie. This is the scene we saw outside. The only difference is that when we were looking, we saw someone downstairs.
We’re late.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Hogan’s Heroes.” She doesn’t seem to care that there are four Navy SEALs each with a gun aimed at her. She’s come to finish off the last person who can testify against her brother and I have a feeling she’s not leaving until Penny is dead.
“We aren’t in Germany, Frannie, and none of us are prisoners of war,” Evan says, training his pistol on her. Nate moves around the back of Frannie, cornering her.
“Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?” Ray’s voice quivers as he speaks out. A quick look tells me his hands are tied behind his back and he would’ve been forced to watch his wife’s assassination and probably Claire’s, too. For a brief moment I thought he could be involved and relief washes over me that he’s not.
“Tell him, Frannie,” Evan says, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Tell this man why you’re pointing a gun at his wife’s head. Tell him why you’ve been hunting her down for the past six months. And please for the love of God tell us why you would destroy all of our lives. Inquiring minds want to know what goes on in your fucked up mind.”
“You’ll never understand, Evan.”