Sustained automatic fire rakes the side of the house, punching through walls, shattering what's left of the windows. I drop flat, and Harper hits the floor beside me. I crane to check on Emma and Lily, relieved to see them huddled where Jake told them to stay.
“Ammo check," Jake says through the comms.
"Seventy percent," I respond.
"Sixty," Mason says. "They're not letting up."
“I’m almost out,” Harper says, her voice low and raspy.
I risk a look through the window. Four shooters advancing on the stable, using the barn as cover. Two more moving toward the main house from the north. Another truck pulling up behind them.
This is bad.
We're good—Delta Force good—but we're three operators defending a massive property against a never-ending stream of attackers with unlimited ammunition and zero concern for casualties.
“Mandy? Hendricks?” I look out the window. “If you guys are out there, we could use the help.”
Mandy’s voice came through with a crackle. “Hendricks is probably getting a pedi, but I’m here. I’m working on something.”
“Can you work on it faster?” Jake asks dryly.
"Luke." Harper's voice is steady beside me. "Give me a weapon."
I glance at her. Her face is pale and her jaw set, but her eyes are clear.
"Harper—"
"Give me a weapon." She holds a bloody hand out. "I'm not sitting this out."
I reach for the spare rifle I grabbed from the ops room and hand it to her. "Here, sunshine."
She takes it, checks the magazine, and chambers a round.
"Stay with me," I say. "Follow my lead. Don't be a hero."
"Too late for that," she mutters as she moves to the window beside me.
We fire together.
Harper's good—better than I expected. She's trained, and she's angry. Every shot is controlled and deliberate. She drops a shooter advancing on the barn, then pivots and takes out another trying to flank Mason's position.
"Nice shot," I say.
"Shut up and get this done," she replies.
“Yes, ma’am.” I grin despite everything and put three rounds into the engine block of an approaching truck. It grinds to a halt, smoke pouring from under the hood.
"Contact, east side!" Jake's voice is sharp over comms. "They're pushing hard. I'm falling back to the kitchen."
Shit. "Mason, can you hold the stable?"
"For now. But they're probing for weak points. They know what they're doing."
We're running out of time.
"Luke, we have a problem," Mason says over comms. "They're setting up a heavy weapon on the ridge. Looks like a .50 cal."
Fuck. If they get that thing operational, they'll tear through the house like it’s paper. "Jake, can you get eyes on it?"