Betrayal

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

OUTSIDE THE TWO-STORY LOG COTTAGE, several men were emerging from the trees. They were dressed in black and there was no mistaking the Heckler & Koch MPK5 submachine gun each man carried. The MP5K is the ultimate close-quarters weapon, capable of firing 900 rounds per minute. The fact they could be carried concealed without limiting your freedom of movement told Rory these men were not a police Swat team moving in to capture Holly Rae Burnette. Not one of them wore the typical body armor, helmet or ballistic shield you would expect with a true SWAT team. Couple that with the fact Rory couldn't see a single badge hanging from around anyone's neck, and there was no Swat or uniform logo in sight, these were not Maryland police, the FBI, Homeland Security or any other body of authority.

One of the men on the left gestured toward Rory's vehicle parked in the roadway. Another man nodded in confirmation, gesturing for the man near the vehicle to move towards the front of the cottage. Then he said something to the man on his left and the message was passed along to the rest of the men along the tree line.

Rory counted seven in total. No...more men emerged from the trees. Make that eight...nine...ten. There was a gesture, a signal towards the back of the cottage and Rory knew there was no more sense counting. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pocket-sized Swiss Army knife and nudged the woman to bend forward in the chair.

"What...what are you doing?"

Rory snipped the plastic handcuffs, freeing her wrists.

Holly brought her arms back around in front of her, rubbing her wrists, "So, you believe me then?"

"I wouldn't say that. It's more a case of expediency." He gestured with his head towards the window as he slipped the pocketknife back in his jeans.

Standing up partway from the chair, Holly glanced out the window. A hand flew to her mouth, "Oh, my God, the police found me."

"Not so much the police as... someone."

Holly looked at Rory, confusion written across her face, "What do you mean someone–?"

Reaching out quickly, Rory grabbed her elbow and pulled her to the floor with him.

The men outside had spotted them both through the window. The roar of the MPK5 submachine guns rent the air as the 9×19mm Parabellum bullets smashed through the window glass, sending shards of glass across the room and on top of Rory and Holly on the floor.

Burnette screamed and put her hands on top of her head.

But Rory wasn't stopping to cover up. He was on the move in a heartbeat, grabbing her elbow again and urging her to move over the roar of the submachine guns, "Move low. Do it now or we're dead."

Resisting at first out of fear, Holly looked into Rory's determined eyes and finally nodded. Rising to a crouch, she allowed herself to be hustled out of the room and off to the right into a hallway as bullets tore at the walls.

Rory heard someone kicking in the back door and there were shouts everywhere around the house. There was no doubt they were surrounded.

The roar of submachine guns from the back joined the deadly symphony from the right. Then gunfire from the left side joined with more from the front and bullets now tore at them from every angle

Holly dove for the floor, covering her head with her hands and jamming her body against the wall of the hallway.

Rory dropped to his stomach but reached out to Holly, "No, no, no. They'll move in as they fire." He pulled on her arm, urging her to follow him.

Bullets ripped lines of holes in the walls. The glass in picture frames exploded and showered the two on the floor. There were the sounds of lamps and glassware shattering and exploding on all sides.

"Just trust me."

"I don't know you," Holly yelled. She began to panic.

Rory had to get her to focus and work with him or they would both be dead before long. He yelled at her, "Just act like a lady and pull your dress down."

Holly blinked at the comment, her panic broken as she turned sideways to look down. Her dress was up over her hips, revealing every bit of her legs and yellow panties. She swore under her breath, pushing her dress down with both hands.

Rory nodded, "Good. Now follow me, Burnette." Rory turned on his stomach and snaked his way through a doorway on the left.

Swearing again, Holly yelled, "I still don't know you," as she turned her body and began to crawl after him. A moment later, she grimaced and pulled her right hand back. She had sliced the side of her thumb open on a piece of broken glass. Clenching her teeth, Holly did her best to ignore the pain as she crawled through the doorway, lifting her legs to avoid other pieces of glass.

Rory was already on the other side of the small room, reaching up to a doorknob. He ducked as splinters of wood and glass exploded over top of him. Through the roar of the submachine guns, he heard, "Now what?" He looked back to see Holly right behind him. Her hand was bloody and she had left a trail of blood across the floor, "Are you okay? Were you hit by a bullet?"

"No, I cut it on some glass. Now what do we do?"

Rory felt relief, turned back, waited for a line of bullets to pass overhead and then quickly reached up, turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. "C'mon," he said. He crawled forward into the garage area, sliding down three steps to the concrete floor. As he reached the driver side door of Mercedes-Benz SUV, he glanced back.

Holly was right there behind him, her eyes wild with fear as bullets ripped apart the doorway right behind her. "I'll go around the other side–"

"No. Climb across," Rory said as he rose to his knees and pulled the driver's door open a crack.

Moving low around to his right, Holly slipped up into the SUV.

Rory placed a hand on her butt and pushed her to move faster.

"Hey!" Holly protested as she crawled over the center console to the passenger seat, pulling her dress down.

Ignoring her protest, Rory reached up to the sun visor and pulled it down, hoping he remembered his conversation with Zachary Stalder correctly. Keys dropped and he caught them, inserting the key in the ignition in one swift motion. The SUV's 329-hp engine roared to life.

A moment later, bullets ripped through the garage door.

Holly screamed as the back window of the SUV was blown out and she dropped to the floor.

Rory ducked low to the right, put the SUV in reverse and jammed his foot down on the gas. The tires of the SUV smoked and squealed in agony and then the six thousand pound vehicle smashed its way backward through the wooden garage door. He kept the pedal down as bullets ripped over the top of the seats, blowing out the front windshield. A moment later, there was a heavy bump at the back, a bang on the roof and then a body somersaulted down onto the hood of the SUV and disappeared off the front end.

Holly screamed as bullets from another shooter blew in the driver's side window and the glass showered them both.

Driving blind, Rory cut the vehicle to the left, kept the gas pedal down and headed for the roadway out. He realized a moment later it was the wrong move. The Mercedes-Benz SUV banged with a jolt to a stop.

Holly screamed and grunted in pain as her head was driven against the passenger side door.

Rory realized he had run into his own rental SUV, blocking the exit from the property. Cursing his own stupidity, Rory reached underneath his body, slammed the vehicle into drive and tromped down on the gas pedal again, driving the vehicle forward. Then he cranked the steering wheel hard to the right. A hail of bullets ripped apart the side of the SUV as the tires squealed and left two lines of black on the pavement. Then the tires were ripping up grass and dirt as Rory did his best to drive the vehicle between the side of the rental and the trees. He heard the scrape of paint and metal on the right side as tree limbs scratched along the left side. When the scraping ended on the right, he took the chance to peek over the dash and through the open front window to see where he was going. Cutting the vehicle hard to the right, he lost control and the SUV shot across the road. Steering hard back to the left, he only managed to get the vehicle turned enough that only the right front fender bounced off a tree.

The shock of the blow knocked the SUV back onto the narrow roadway where it spun in a half-circle, coming to a stop. The engine quit.

The roar of gunfire continued, most of the damage now taken by the rental SUV as the men aimed for the Mercedes.

Rory turned the key in the ignition. The car refused to start. He did it again. The engine started with a rumble. He floored the gas, fighting to straighten the vehicle as he tried to stay low. The engine roared, the tires squealed and smoked a moment before they caught and then they rocketed away from the two-story log cottage. But as the engine growled, carrying them down the road, Rory looked to the right and cursed hard.