“We’re going to escape out the back?” said Manuel hopefully.
Tristan rolled his eyes. “No, we’re going to stop anyone who tries to get inside this house.”
Manuel scoffed. “Why would I help you?”
“Because these men aren’t here for us. They’re here for your daughter. And if they can’t find her here, they’re going to torture us until they get a location. So I think it’s your highest priority right now to make sure every one of us makes it out of here safely. Don’t you think?” Tristan walked away, giving Manuel a chance to answer for himself. But a few seconds later, he heard the footsteps following him.
He crossed through the living room, where it looked like Toni was finishing packing up. He had no idea how she expected to get any of her equipment out of the house, but he’d learned it was best not to question Toni. As soon as he saw her, she started in on what the plan was.
“They’re splitting out into three teams,” she said. “Gage is clearing the way to one of the vans. Take care of your guys at the back entrance, and meet me in the van on the west side of the driveway. Then we’ll get the hell out of Dodge.”
“What happens if they follow us?”
“Well, we have two options. We can either make sure none of them are in a condition to follow anybody, or we can disable all the cars. I’m going to be disabling all cars; you make sure no one can follow us. I like having all of our bases covered.”
“You’re going to kill them?” said Manuel in a surprisingly shocked voice.
Not exactly the ruthless tyrant Tristan was expecting. “We’re going to incapacitate them,” said Tristan. He wasn’t going to promise not to kill anybody, because he wasn’t in a position to make that promise. What he couldn’t have was Manuel getting a bleeding heart now. They had Shae leave because they didn’t want to have a liability on their hands. She was inexperienced and, to be honest, too nice for this kind of work. Manuel was also a liability, but it came with the added benefit that no one here really cared whether he died. But after witnessing the little reunion Shae had just gone through, he knew she would care. Which meant his job was doubly hard. He’d be guarding a door on his own and making sure Manuel didn’t get himself killed. Oh, the fun never stopped.
Tristan reached into one of his bags and pulled out a Glock and three extra magazines. He slipped the magazines into his jean pockets and raked the slide back on the Glock until he heard a bullet load in the chamber. He headed toward the back of the house and stood just out of the line of sight of the two giant French doors. It was the easiest entry to the back. The windows around the house were all reinforced glass, so it would take a bullet to break them, and he’d hear it. The French doors, however, were as delicate as they looked. It would take about two seconds for these guys to kick them in.
“Maybe I should go,” said Manuel with a tremor of fear in his voice.
“You stay here,” said Tristan in a hushed whisper. “We’re taking care of these men and then we’re going around to the front. I can’t go looking for you when we need to leave. You need to be here.”
“But you said there were sixteen guys. Doesn’t that mean we’re outnumbered by at least five to two?”
“We’re outnumbered five to one. I don’t think you’ll be much help.” Tristan didn’t say it to be mean. He wasn’t expecting Manuel to pick up a gun and start shooting. Manuel’s only job at the moment was to not get himself killed.
“Is this what you do? You do shootouts and kill people for a living?”
Tristan growled. This wasn’t the time for this conversation. This was time for silent contemplation before he started shooting people. “No,” he said between clenched teeth. “I’m a thief.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
Tristan took his eyes off the French doors to glare at him. “Does it look like it’s my job to make you feel better? The only reason I’m not letting you die is because I’m worried it would make Shae feel sad for some stupid reason. Now, every second I’m looking at you and not that door is a second longer it takes me to react. You know how long it takes for someone to fire a bullet?” He didn’t wait for Manuel to answer as he turned to look to the door again. This time he saw a flash of movement. He steadied his grip on the gun and prepared himself.
He went through the different scenarios in his head. Five against one was never ideal, and he knew there could be more than five depending on how they split up. As soon as he started shooting, they’d return fire. They’d be sitting ducks. He saw one of the guys approach the doors and give a little hand signal to the guys behind him. That was important. They had an agreed-on hand signal, which meant this probably wasn’t a random mishmash of guys that Damask put together. This was probably a team. Teams were good, because you learned to work like a well-oiled machine. He knew that from working for so long with Gage, Hunter, and Slade.
But it was also a disadvantage. If you worked in a team, you didn’t want your team members to die. Pesky little side effect of having emotions. He’d use that against them. The guy at the door punched through a pane of glass as if it were made of sugar.
Tristan could feel Manuel tense behind him, and he leaned forward. “This should be a good time to start shooting.”
“I got this,” whispered Tristan.
“But—”
Tristan shoved his elbow back, hitting Manuel squarely in the gut. The man grunted and finally shut up. The first assailant reached through the broken pane of glass and turned the lock, which allowed him to open the door. Two of his guys followed him in; there were now three inside that Tristan could see.
Tristan backed a little farther into the hallway so he wouldn’t be seen. Of course, this meant he couldn’t see the guys anymore, but he could hear their footsteps clearly. Tristan took a few deep breaths, but wasn’t afraid. The situation wasn’t ideal, but he’d faced worse odds. All he had to do was wait for two. More. Seconds....
The first guy walked by the hallway, and Tristan bolted into action. He stepped out and slammed his fist to the first guy’s face while at the same time wrapping his gun arm around the man, using him as a human shield as he turned to face his comrades. They hesitated to shoot through their friend, and that was all Tristan needed as he opened fire. He only had a limited number of bullets, so he made them count. Normally he’d aim for center mass, but because they were wearing bulletproof gear, he aimed for the shoulders instead.
The two men immediately went down, and Tristan smiled. Suddenly the odds were looking much more in his favor.