"Best I can do is shoot
the poor bastard up with so much morphine he'll never wake up again," said Krank grimly.
"Not good enough Krank. I know you have a team here...." Anthony hissed back under his breath, losing patience.
Before Krank could respond Ebbe clicked her fingers at them loudly. Anthony instantly knew something was wrong.
"Why's that bitch clicking
her..." Krank had started. In a split second Anthony thrust an elbow into Krank's chin, making a satisfying crack sound as it connected. Krank had made the mistake of think of Ebbe as an ordinary civi. If she wanted to to shut up, there was a damn good reason. Maybe it was that, or was my reaction because he called her a bitch? Anthony wasn't sure himself.
"Whatever you've been
staring out this window waiting for, for the past four months, has just
arrived," Ebbe hissed urgently, her face ashen with worry.
"How do you...?" Chum began to speak, rubbing his jaw.
"She just does. Exit
options?" Anthony interrupted in exasperation.
Krank nodded downward and
Anthony replied with an acknowledging nod. He knew all along there was more here than a run down farm house. Without a sound, Anthony gestured
with his hands to Jake and Cody, flicking his thumb at Art, still tightly
strapped to the stretcher. The pair nodded and grabbed one side
each.
"Show them the way and then show
me where you keep your shit," Anthony barked making sure to keep his volume down and use the bass in his voice to project authority.
Krank ushered the group out of the room and into the hallway, leaving Anthony alone. For a second he wanted to turn and watch Ebbe as she left, but he fought the urge, instead striding up to the monitors Ebbe had been focused on. He peered at it, not because he didn't trust her judgement, but because he hoped to discern the numbers outside. His eyes flicked to the front window and back to the monitor.
He heard Krank return from the hallway, doing his best to disguise his heavy footsteps upon the floorboards.
"At least seven men. Light arms, semi-auto I'd guess. Four at the rear, three at the front," Anthony said without turning, still watching the screens. His eyes interpreted the evidence in a flash; a branch swaying where there was no wind, a bird fleeing the bushes, a shadow where there should be none, a wet spot on an otherwise dry path, grass depressed more in one spot than another and no obvious signs of a vehicle nearby. "There here for you, not me, aren't they?" Anthony asked as he finally turned his back on the screen and squared up to Krank.
Krank simply nodded and tossed a Light Support Weapon across to Anthony, who caught it, checked the clip and gestured to Krank to toss him some spare ones. Krank obliged by flinging a small backpack across. Anthony took a peek inside.
"Jesus mate, you planning on starting a war?"
Krank just grinned and loaded his shotgun.
"You stop 'em getting close. But if you fuck up, I'll take care of it!" Krank boomed, patting his gun lovingly.
"The rear?" Anthony quizzed, assuming Krank had it covered.
"Wall of iron mate. Unless they brought a tank, the front is their only option," he paused and peered at the monitor, "they didn't bring a tank did they?"
Anthony shook his head and crept swiftly across the room and propped his gun up against the window. He peered through the optical sight, sweeping the open ground. He could see why Krank picked this house. With the rear blocked, anyone attacking had no choice but to move in from the front. The front drive was wide open in all directions, with flat expanses of fields in all directions. The only cover were the thin stretches of thicket that bordered the drive. He focused his sights on the Land Rover, its hood and engine shattered by Krank's earlier assault upon it. No way we're getting out in that thing.
There! A shadow peeked out from beneath the vehicle. Logical, it was currently the best cover in the exposed drive. The next question, fire first, or wait to see what their intentions were? Shit, if their intentions were to make contact, they would have done so by now. This was a Goddamn assassination squad. I probably trained these arseholes, Anthony reflected. He turned and glanced at Krank, also propped against the opposite window, sweeping his oversize shotgun left and right. I should have kept Jake up here with me, Anthony thought.
Thwack! Something whistled through the window, making a half inch hole just to the right of Anthony's head.
"Holy shit!" Anthony exclaimed. "Sniper!" he whispered loudly to Krank. Did he miss on purpose? Anthony asked himself. An agency sniper would have sent that bullet right between my eyes if he'd wanted to. What are they playing at? They want us to retreat? Yes, that's it, they actually want us to go into a siege mentality and retreat to whatever Krank has hidden beneath this house.
Anthony sank down and turned to Krank.
"This isn't their first attempt is it?" he asked, not bothering to keep his voice down, they knew they were here now, that was obvious. Krank shook his head. "They agency?"
"Mate, I don't know," Krank shrugged, "two months back I shot three of 'em, but the others took the bodies away and fled. Alls I know, they want in, and they ain't getting in!"
"They must have been watching the house all along. Fuck! As soon as they saw us arrive they attacked. They knew you had company! They figured that meant you'd be a softer target" Anthony cursed. "Look mate, they aren't going to knock on the door. That sniper missed me on purpose. They want us to retreat, so they can follow."
"Balls, that doesn't make any sense," Krank spat, "why not just shoot us both, walk in, happy as Larry, and rip the house apart?"
"They obviously know they won't work," Anthony retorted, "let me guess, you got IQ biometrics down there?"
Krank nodded.
"So without you alive and well, no access, right? I mean, that shit knows if you're drugged, wounded, or under pressure."
"Yeah, but how can they know that?" Krank replied.
"That's the question. They clearly know you well enough to know they can't force you to open the door. They clearly know you haven't got enough supplies above ground to survive a long term siege. They also must know what you have down there."
Krank shook his head vigorously.
"No fucker has a clue what's down there mate, trust me. Not the agency, not the government, just me and God."
Anthony closed his eyes tightly and cleared his mind. He focused upon his internal abyss, thinking of nothing, seeing nothing, hearing nothing. No more questions. No more mysteries. Ebbe, the moon, the sun, Art, Krank, the agency, the attackers, all melted away. All that was left was the enveloping darkness. Peace shrouded in darkness.
His eyes opened with a start.
"There's only one answer," Anthony stated calmly.
"Oh yeah? Chinese takeaway?" Krank replied sarcastically.
"I'll tell you later. First we gotta play along. Shoot some shit!"
"Now you're talking my language!" Krank boomed enthusiastically,
"I'll lay down a suppressing fire across the drive, you aim at anything that tries to run for cover," Anthony said calmly as he lifted his gun sight and aimed at the Land Rover. "Sorry, old girl," he whispered to the shredded vehicle, before opening fire and tearing new holes across it's side.
Rattatatata. His gun fired hard and fast, penetrating the Land Rover and sending shards of shattered glass raining to the gravel below.
Boom. Krank released a round from his shotgun. The sound seemed distant to Anthony, as if it were an echo in a canyon. The crack, crack sound of his own weapon was deafening. A brief interlude to load a new clip left the usual ringing in his ears, something he had long learned to disregard. He pressed his right eye up to the sight again and swept the surroundings. Spotting movement in the bushes to the left, he sent a sweeping shower of bullets in that direction. He wasn't really trying to kill anyone, but it had to look good, otherwise they'd know something was wrong. Anthony was hoping to speak to one of the attackers, to confirm his suspicions. There was no way this was coincidence he had decided. Everything since he had been hand-picked for the Ebbe job was starting to come off like a set-up, right up to this attack on the farmhouse. Some bastard in a five thousand quid suit was playing God. That pissed him off. He wanted to regain control. And that would start right now.
Rattatatata. His gun shredded the foliage. A figure, shrouded in black, leaped from the bushes and scrambled frantically for cover. Boom. Krank let off a round in their direction. The spray of shot caught them in their right leg, lacerating the flesh from bone and sending them tumbling to the gravel. Before Krank could let off another round, three previously hidden figures appeared and opened fire. The bullets smashed through the window and ripped through the furnishings, sending splinters flying through the room. Krank and Anthony dove for cover, both covering their heads from the cascade of debris. Finally the firing relented and Anthony raised his gun above the window line and without looking, fired randomly in all directions.
He paused and turned to Krank.
"I think they believe we're serious," Anthony said calmy, as if nothing had happened.
"Whaddya mean 'believe'?" Krank retorted, also lifting his gun and blindly firing out of the shattered window.
"Like I said. There's only one answer to this," Anthony replied.
"Like you said," Krank agreed.
Anthony turned and pointed his gun at Krank.
"You'll have to die."
