The Warrior Code by Ty Patterson

Author:Ty Patterson [Patterson, Ty]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-11-20T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Shadows moved across the front window.

Zeb saw them through the corner of his eye.

Thought translated to action even before his mind processed what his eyes had seen.

He sprang off Krone just as the shadows, three of them, stepped through the window and opened fire where he had just been.

Zeb ran into the dining room and, under the cover of the dividing wall, paused just once to reach into one of his many deep pockets to pull out a flash-bang. He threw it over his shoulder without looking back.

In three long strides he reached the rear of the kitchen, went to a window and, after covering his face with his left hand, jumped through it.

For a second he was illuminated against the intense burst of light in the living room, followed by the loud detonation.

Hostile!

He saw the rifle barrel too late, aimed at him from the side of the window.

It flashed fire and a giant hammer struck him in his ribs on his right-hand side. He fell, gasping for breath, a shadow moved across him and the rifle barrel struck him over his right eyebrow.

Zeb blacked out for a short moment, and when he came to, he blearily made out the shadow looking down at him. The shadow swung; Zeb gritted his teeth, compartmentalized the pain and reached out with his left hand, grabbed the attacker’s legs and jerked.

The man shouted in surprise as he realized Zeb was alive and conscious, and when he fell over, Zeb sank his blade deep in him.

Zeb punched him in the throat and twisted the knife till the body lay still.

Got lucky. He thought I was dead. Didn’t realize I was wearing armor.

Now, Move!

He threw the body away from him, staggered for a minute, leaned against the wall, wiped the flowing blood from his eyebrow with his sleeve, and took stock of himself. His ribs were hurting as if an elephant had trampled over him, but he was sure there was no lasting damage.

Three men inside, along with Krone, who might have been hit by their incoming fire. Romero’s dead.

He thought the men might be incapacitated by the bang, but he couldn’t be sure. He glanced at his watch. Less than a minute since he’d burst through the window.

He took a couple of deep breaths, calmed down his heart rate, and forced his mind to go to the grey space it occupied in times of combat. He drew his Glock and ghosted to the front of the house.

If three more had followed Krone, there could be more.

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