He hit his attacker, a man about his age, dark hair, built, gold teeth, funneling all his shock into a right hook. His fist connected in a deeply satisfying punch that found his attacker’s jaw and snapped his head back.

Then Ranger grabbed the man’s wrist with both hands and banged his hand against the granite. The knife jerked out of the man’s grip, but it earned Ranger a fist to his ear and his world tilted.

Who—

He growled, ducked his head, and grabbed the man around his middle, running him back and ramming him into the counter. Landed a couple jabs in his midsection before the attacker slammed his knee into Ranger’s gut. The wind whooshed out of him.

A fist across his jaw dazed him and he tasted blood.

Why—

Ranger’s hand closed on the Moka pot, now boiling, and he grabbed it up, used it as a club, and smashed it into his attacker’s face.

The man shouted and Ranger followed with another shot, an uppercut that sent the man backwards. He hit the counter, fell, and in a second, Ranger was on him, his arm around his neck in a sleeper hold.

How—

The man struggled beneath him, but Ranger hadn’t completely forgotten who he was. He tightened his hold. Sleepy time, and then he’d tie up the man and dig around for the answers.

“Perestan!”

Ranger froze. Looked up.

No. Oh . . . no!

Another man of similar build held Noemi around the neck, a handgun pressed to her head. She still wore her pajamas and white bathrobe, her golden-brown eyes wide, fixed on Ranger.

“Stop,” the man said, his word heavily accented.

Yes. Ranger let go of the man beneath him, got up, and raised his hands. It was just that simple. “Please don’t hurt her.”

The man on the floor fought to his feet and, with Noemi watching, hit Ranger with what felt like the force of a thousand suns. He spun, tripped, and his head slammed on the granite island. Heat exploded through him. He hit his knees.

“No, stop!” Noemi screamed, but it didn’t slow down his attacker. He kicked Ranger, this time in the jaw, and he fell back, the world spinning.

Give up, give in, or give it all you’ve got. This part of being a SEAL, he remembered.

He rolled to his hands and knees—

“Stop.”

The voice jarred him, and he froze.

Not Noemi’s voice. Quieter. But in that quietness, not really a question.

More of a command.

And behind it sounded the cocking of a gun.

His father. Maybe with the Szecsei & Fuchs double-barrel big game rifle he kept in his office.

Oh, Ranger hoped.

“That’s enough of that,” his father said. “Leave now. I don’t want to have to shoot you for trespassing.”