Private Rogue

Chapter 89

Joshua and I were in the Toyota, watching Jessie take position on the brow of the hill. She lay prone in the snow and set up her AR-15 on a bipod, then checked the magazines of ammunition she had in a small bag beside her.

I glanced in the rear-view and saw Justine and Mo-bot heading toward the road. Justine was on the phone, calling the cops as we’d agreed. She looked nervously in my direction.

“She’s set,” Floyd said. I glanced at Jessie and saw her giving a thumbs-up.

I put the car in gear. “Ready?” I asked.

Floyd patted his AR-15 and nodded.

I stepped on the gas and we lurched forward, spitting icy gravel as the wheels fought for traction. We crested the hill and saw most of Andreyev’s men were congregating around the farmhouse. They looked up the moment they heard the engine, and sprang into action when they caught sight of us racing toward them.

My attention was suddenly drawn from the farmhouse by the sight of three figures running away from the far barn. They were heading toward the forest on the other side of the field. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing: Beth, Maria and Danny had somehow managed to escape! I pointed them out to Floyd and a smile began to appear on his face before it quickly hardened to a look of grim resolve.

Andreyev and the two guards who had been stationed outside the barn were running along the exterior wall. They would soon have a line of sight on Beth and the children.

The men by the farmhouse opened fire on us. As bullets thudded into the ground all around the SUV, Jessie replied on our behalf and sprayed the group with bullets. The rattle of machine-gunfire sent panic through Andreyev’s men. Two of them went down with bloody wounds and were hauled into the farmhouse by their retreating accomplices.

Andreyev stopped in his tracks when he heard the gunfire and yelled something at the two guards before changing direction and running back toward the courtyard. The two guards continued their pursuit of Beth and the children.

I steered off the track and took us round the house and through the thick snow that covered the bumpy hill. We sprayed ice and slush everywhere and bounced around wildly as the engine roared. Above us, Jessie kept laying down covering fire, pinning Andreyev’s men inside the farmhouse.

We hit level ground and shot past the house, onto the field beside the east barn. One of the guards pursuing Beth turned and opened fire on us. The other shot at her and the kids.

“Stop the car,” Floyd said.

I stepped on the brake and we skidded to a halt. Floyd jumped out and raised his AR-15 to his shoulder.

I heard gunfire and looked to my left to see one of Andreyev’s men shooting at us through the back window of the house.

I pulled my Glock from the holster in the center console, opened the door and returned fire. The man staggered back, wounded, and I turned just in time to see Floyd target the guard who was shooting at us. His pistol could hardly make the distance, but the AR-15 had no such trouble. Floyd squeezed the trigger. The first bullet tore through the man’s throat. The second pierced his skull.

Beth and the children were almost at the trees, the second guard not far behind. As his comrade’s body tumbled into the snow, Floyd quickly shifted his aim to the guard pursuing his family. He squeezed the trigger and hit his target in the center of his back. The man went down instantly.

An engine roared and I looked left to see a black Porsche Cayenne shoot out of another barn. Andreyev was at the wheel. He raced across the courtyard and out into open countryside away from the farmhouse. He was heading for a track that cut through the woods.

“You go. Look after your family,” I told Floyd. “I’ll take care of him.”

“Thank you, Jack. For everything you’ve done.”

He slung his rifle, shut the car door, and set out at a sprint.

I popped the Toyota in gear and went in pursuit of the fleeing Russian.