Chapter 22
Frank heard a low sound of feet crunching in gravel from his right and crackling leaves from his left as the two guards strolled back around. The one behind the house was whistling. Sweet Gypsy Rose, of all things.
Horace’s target came into view first.
He came straight up from his hunker, right hand driving in under his victim’s sternum, left hand slashing across the throat. It was over in less than a second.
Blood sprayed from an open carotid and the man’s shotgun dropped as his body sagged. Frank could see his mouth working uselessly. Scarlet runnels poured from his mouth and down his chin.
Horace caught the body and eased it to the ground.
From Yakov’s corner, he heard the second guard break into a run as he called out.
“Hey, what the—“
A squelching thunk cut his yell
