Ignite (Unbreakable Bonds 7)

His only warning was a soft click of the deadbolt sliding into its housing before the door swung soundlessly open. He reached for his gun out of instinct, but Noah was on the other side of the door.

“Hold. It’s just me,” Noah quickly said in a whisper.

“You’re already inside?” Rowe asked.

He stepped out of the way, allowing Rowe to step inside. “No security system and the back door was unlocked.”

“That’s not a good sign.”

“No, but you haven’t seen the worst of it.”

Rowe wanted to hit his head against the doorjamb at Noah’s words. He wasn’t in the mood for worse. He wanted something better. He wanted something to work out in their favor for once. Following Noah into the living room, he found JB standing in the center of the room, the flashlight on his phone directed toward the couch. And the dead body of Joseph Cates.

“Fuck,” Rowe snarled. It looked like the man took several shots to the chest while he was sitting on the couch. The TV was still on, showing some infomercial offering a quick and tasty way to cut fat from your diet.

“There goes our chance to get some information,” JB muttered.

“True, but he might still have some good info. You and Noah go upstairs. Look around for anything useful. You’ve got three minutes.” Both men nodded and Rowe was grateful that they didn’t argue. He wanted a moment to look over the scene.

As soon as they headed out of the room, Rowe flipped on a floor lamp and looked more closely at the living room. Cates’s body was seated on the couch, the TV remote next to his right hand. Some fast-food wrappers littered the battered coffee table in front of him, as if he’d recently finished a meal. There was an open can of beer on the table as well. Rowe turned slowly, taking in the room. There was a large cushioned chair resting diagonally to the couch and an unopened can of beer on the little side table next to the chair. Interesting…

It looked like Joseph had returned home with some fast food. He turned on the TV and ate dinner. Then company arrived. Someone he knew. While the place wasn’t exactly clean, it didn’t look as if there had been a struggle. Nothing was overturned or torn. No, poor Joe sat and shared a beer with his guest before the asshole killed him. The murderer probably walked right out the back door.

Rowe was willing to put money on the likelihood that it had been Erik. If that man was the mastermind behind the plot to steal the Army weapons, then he was probably tying up some loose ends. Cates and his own brother could cause problems for him if someone started taking a closer look at the ambush.

But would Erik kill his little brother?

Signs were pointing toward yes on that one. The man had spearheaded an attack to kill his fellow countrymen. He likely killed one of his confederates. There was no way David Johnson was safe.

Rowe glanced back down at his watch and drew in a breath to shout for Noah and JB. Their three minutes of searching were up. But before he could even speak, he heard two sets of footsteps thundering down the stairs.

“We’ve got company,” JB announced before he reached the first floor.

“Car just pulled into the driveway with the lights off,” Noah added.

Rowe grabbed the gun from its holster on his hip and chambered a round. He couldn’t say he was overly surprised. They might have been cautious entering the house, but there had to have been some hidden camera or sensor to tip off Erik. If Chris Perkins had spotted Dave, Erik had to figure it was only a matter of time that they’d locate Joseph. “How many?”

“Three got out. There’s one still behind the wheel.”

Rowe gave a quick nod. Johnson had lost at least three at the attack on the motel and Jeff had left town. He’d killed Joseph and would probably dispose of David. And now four more men. How many men did he have to throw at them? Such a fucking waste.

“Noah, back door. I’ll cover the front. JB, check to make sure there isn’t a side door or an entrance through the basement.”

The two men didn’t say a word as they darted off to their assignments. Rowe turned on one heel and jogged to the front door. He didn’t bother to lock it again. That was silly. He wanted the fuckers to come inside. There were more hiding places and cover for him to use for protection. He had the advantage over the invaders.

Hanging at the edge of the living room, his shoulder leaning against the doorjamb leading to the hall, Rowe waited. Shots were fired through the front door, shattering the glass and pummeling the old wood. These assholes weren’t interested in being sneaky in the least. A second later, a booted foot slammed into the door, kicking it open. Rowe smirked and dropped back a little, watching as the handgun entered the house first, followed by a large man in a black T-shirt and a ski mask. With a sigh, Rowe lifted his gun, took half a second to aim, and squeezed the trigger twice. He easily put two in the guy’s chest, sending him sprawling backward into the door, pushing it farther from where it had sprung back after the initial kick.