He jogged back to the abandoned APV, avoiding the sprawled bodies he and his team had dragged down to the road. He hated using his fallen fellow operators as props, but he needed to recast the battlefield. He wanted to make the Dark Ones QRF team leader think the final battle had taken place on the driveway and draw their attention away from the berms, where Johnny was covering, and the crashed APVs, where Eli and Bex now hid. With a heavy exhale, he climbed inside the big armored 4x4 and closed the door. Kneeling on the rear bench seat, he looked out the back window down the access road toward Highway 70. The light from the burning Charger forced him to flip his NVGs up and scan with his unaugmented eyes.

As he waited for the enemy, his thoughts went again to Maria.

What was she doing here? Had she somehow heard about the attack, and if so, why had she come alone instead of calling Nashville PD?

Something didn’t compute . . .

He wished he had his mobile so he could call or text her, but his cell phone was stowed in a duffel with his other personal gear back on the plane.

“Sword, Mother—two APVs are turning onto the access road,” Nisha reported in his ear. Before he had time to ask, she added, “Five thermals per vehicle, ten tangos total converging on your pos.”

“Well, that answers that question,” he murmured. Then in a clear voice, he said, “Check. Sword, hold your fire until my mark.”

Three acknowledgments came back from his teammates who were each covering in their assigned positions.

“Three, One—have you gotten that missile launcher figured out yet?” Jed asked Johnny.

“I think so. Just point and shoot—the missile does the rest,” Johnny said. “Are you sure you don’t want me to light up the lead vehicle on the approach?”

“I’m sure,” Jed said. “I want them stopped with doors open.”

“Roger that, boss.”

The fire was already starting to burn out in Perez’s car, with the most combustible materials quickly consumed along with the gasoline. The Charger’s gas tank had yet to ignite, and he put the odds of that happening at fifty-fifty. Whether it did or didn’t was irrelevant to his plan. The goal was to paint a picture of a failed last stand and draw the Dark Horizon shooters out of their vehicles en masse and into the kill box.