“I don’t think so, Son. I just have to hold them off until Rogers gets here. Time to bring the pain.” He turned and double-timed back to the house, already dialing his phone. I watched him go and thought, It’s not going to go well for those SUV people.

The Halo was hovering just out of line of sight but under the trees, in case anyone had a directional detector. Sheldon had parked several drones at strategic locations to keep an eye on the house. With the detectors not yet taken care of, we’d decided not to take a chance on bringing the Halo in to pick us up. Patrick and I settled for hiding behind a log in a slight depression on the property.

“A large contingent of police vehicles is making its way toward your home,” Sheldon announced. “Still several minutes out. The SUVs will get here first and will have a couple of minutes of free play. Will your parents be okay?”

“We have a safe room downstairs if it comes to that. But my father has a lot of combat training that’s probably going to be useful. And he’s pissed.” I grinned. “You should watch a movie called Rambo for reference.”

The squad of black SUVs pulled up to the house and a whole lot of very tough-looking characters jumped out, carrying automatic weapons, followed by a half dozen business-suit types. Nat spoke over the cling-ons. “I recognize them from the third floor. Four of them, anyway.”

Patrick pointed at one of the suits. “That’s the security office manager that was questioning Phil. It looks like the Loranna have decided to take a hands-on approach.”

One of the mercenary types ran up to the front door and kicked it in, then died in a spray of blood as a shotgun blast hit him from a high angle. The six suits dove behind the nearest SUV, while the other mercs raised their weapons and started firing on the house.

No one seemed to notice at first that the mercs were dropping one by one from sniper fire, from the back of the group forward. Then someone yelled an order and the whole squad dropped and rolled behind the nearest cover. But with no obvious target to shoot back at, it looked like things would degenerate into a standoff.

Then the cavalry showed up, in the form of the entire Dunnville police department. Eight patrol cars, two SUVs, a Humvee, and an armored carrier charged onto the property, tires spinning and gravel flying.

“Cooool … ” Patrick said. I gave him a sour look.

The mercs, glad to finally have a target to take out their frustrations on, opened up on the police cars with small-arms fire. The vehicles skidded to a stop and cops started jumping out, weapons in hand.