23
Bones finished climbing the ladder as the gunfire abated. Glock in hand, he emerged and spotted four men in black garb racing through the half-opened sliding door into the dark barn. Three shots later, two were down. He dove for cover behind the nearby grain bin. Bullets and buckshot slammed into it and the wall beyond.
After the five second barrage, silence reigned. Maddock hadn’t joined Bones—he would’ve recognized the sound of his partner’s Walther.
“Mr. Bonebrake.” The deep, calm voice came from the far side of the barn, back by the disk plow. Bones bristled at its nasal tone. “I have your partner, Dane Maddock, sitting, facing the wall, with my pistol pointed at his blond head. And my associate, Diego, has his assault rifle aimed at his torso in general, should I for some reason
