Guess that was his answer. If he argued, he’d probably get served up the St. Crispin’s Day speech.

“Hey, dude.” By the dining room table, Erica waved at him. “I’m assigned to you.”

“You?” Spotting movement, Bull turned.

Kit and Sarah were upstairs on the landing outside Mako’s rooms, both carrying weapons.

He scanned the living area, and dread lodged in his gut. “Kit, where’s Frankie?”

Kit looked over the railing. “Isn’t she with the women in the tunnels?”

“No.” Fear increasing, he turned to Lillian.

Surprise, then concern filled her face. “I didn’t see her.”

Upstairs, Sarah leaned over the railing. “Dear God, I don’t think she was in the van. Erica, did you see her?”

“I…no, she wasn’t.” Erica’s eyes were wide. “How could we not notice?”

Bull bit back his snarl. The women had been terrorized and tied-up in a dark van, and as driver, Kit wouldn’t have known who was in the cargo area.

His hands closed into fists as he fought the need to charge into the PZs until he found her.

Don’t be a fool.

Either she’d escaped in the commotion at the roadhouse, or was shot and left behind, or she hadn’t escaped. None of which he could do anything about right now. His jaw was so tight his teeth ground together.

The quickest way to her was to eliminate the bastards outside.

Exhaling, he saw that Kit had a hand over her mouth and was shaking. Yeah, there was guilt to spare and no time for it.

“We’ll find her.” He hardened his voice. “For now, move out, Kit.”

Her mouth firmed, and then she and Sarah hurried toward the stairs to the attic.

The dining room table held a pile of weaponry, obviously for Bull. He strapped the Colt 45 around his waist, slung the bag with ammo over his shoulder, and picked up the HK semi-automatic rifle.

“We’re ready.” Loaded up, Dante stood beside Lillian.

Bull nodded to Erica. “Let’s go.”

With the three behind him, Bull hunched slightly as he strode through the fucking-low tunnel. A side tunnel held the steps to Caz’s house. “Erica, wait here.”

With Dante and Lillian behind him, he went up the stairs to the door, punched in the code, and ushered them through. “You know how to get into the attic?”

They both nodded.

Back in the tunnel, he led Erica past Hawk’s and turned into his side-tunnel and up the stairs. He put in his code, opened the door, waved her in, then kicked it shut.

Two more flights upstairs got them into the small attic area.

Each house had a sniper’s roost. The walls were reinforced with metal and sandbags. Camouflaged slits in the roof and walls allowed the shooter to move and target different areas.