Josh spoke for the first time in several minutes. “It’s my fault. I freaked out when they came back to the house the second time. We were in here in the dark, and when the first one kicked down the door, I grabbed the backpack and jetted out the back, only to find the other one waiting out there.”

“When he broke through the front door, I grabbed my wife and followed Josh. There was just no time to grab my Kimber 1911 off the kitchen counter. Hell, it’s still there, not that we need more guns,” Brandon said, sweeping an arm across the weaponry arrayed on the table.

Zack’s mind raced. Before they could do anything else, they needed to relocate. He didn’t know how many men Barrett had with him, but if he had more at the elementary school, he could call in reinforcements.

“Okay. Here’s where we are. We’ve got what they’re looking for. That gives us the advantage, at least in the near term. We don’t know what’s on this thing or why they want it, but we have it, which makes finding us their number one priority.”

Zack checked his watch. It’d been nearly fifteen minutes since he’d ended the conversation with Barrett. He had no idea what the man was up to, but he knew that the more time he gave him, the worse it would be for all of them.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, unless you have a better idea. I’m taking the laptop, I’m going to exfiltrate out of this neighborhood, get a cell signal, and call in reinforcements, if Sam hasn’t done it already.” He’d also told them about her exploits and her current mission to escape and call for help. “It gets this thing away from these bastards, and I get to call in the cavalry.”

“Exfiltrate?” Josh asked. “Who talks like that?” His voice was a mixture of puzzlement and awe.

“Former operators who never left the life, no matter what they say or do,” Brandon answered, staring at Zack.