“Not the girl!” Anton howled. “I want the bitch alive!”

Sebastian had his Glock out and the safety off. He fired at the shooter holding the submachine gun and hit him high in the shoulder as a short burst of gunfire erupted from the far right corner of the room. Sebastian’s eyes automatically flicked in that direction, past the moving bodies, past the limbs and furniture, and got a glimpse of the shooter.

Paul.

Paul was here and was getting to his feet and he fired again and Frank dropped to the floor, his limbs as limp and useless as a doll’s. Half his head was missing.

Sebastian froze, unable to process what had just happened. No, he thought to himself, a scream rising in his throat. No, this isn’t happening. Frank and I are the good guys. We’re supposed to win. We’re supposed to—

Billy, the man Sebastian had assigned to watch Faye, was fast. The man who had been standing beside Billy, a guy Sebastian had never seen before, lay dead on the floor, in a pool of blood. From the corner of his eye he saw Faye army crawling across the slick red pool. He saw Billy withdraw his weapon in one smooth motion, flick off the safety with his thumb, and fire a double tap that took down the man with the submachine gun. Paul ducked for cover.

Faye had a handgun—someone must have dropped it, and she had gone after it—and now she was firing, too. Billy dropped to one knee and began firing into the room, Faye coming out of her cover, Sebastian counting one, two, three other shooters—

Paul. There he was, by the French doors.

Take him down.

End this.

Now.

Sebastian scrambled to his feet, the adrenaline making his legs feel as though they were as fragile as glass. He raised his Glock and Paul raised his nine and Paul was smiling, and Faye shoved him back, toward the hall, and Sebastian lost sight of Paul. She pushed him again and this time he pushed back. The fear he had seen in her earlier was gone, replaced by a grim determination he rarely saw in women.

Ava flashed through his mind as Faye said, “There are too many of them. We need to leave. Now.”

Sebastian realized she was right. They were outnumbered, outgunned.

Eyes on the room, Faye fired again. Again. “Car?”

“Garage,” he replied.

“You got the keys? Then move.”

He nodded, panting. When he realized Faye hadn’t followed, Sebastian looked over his shoulder, saw her firing into the room, laying down cover fire. Then she swung her handgun to Anton and fired.

Sebastian bolted down the hall, legs and limbs burning. Faye darted in front of him, clutched the doorknob, her hands and fingers slick with blood. Her entire front, even parts of her face and hair, was covered in it.

“Need to clear the garage first,” she said as gunshots erupted from the belly of the house. She threw open the door and cleared the area directly in front of her, Sebastian noticing how she paid close attention to her blind spots.