THE THREE TAKEN A FEW STEPS to escape, but a hail of bullets began to pierce the wooden walls of the house, destroying everything within reach. Shards of glass and wood flew everywhere. Lying on the floor, they could only watch what was happening, there was nothing they could do.
In the background, the sound of shouts from those in the street could be heard. His opponents no longer cared about the description; everything was being done in the open, in front of everyone.
Finally, when the attack had stopped, Benedetti began to sneak towards the room and shouted:
— Come on! I'll cover you! — Saying this, he got down on his knees behind a sofa and started shooting in the direction he believed to be the origin of the attack.
Martin quickly followed him, passing him through the lowered smoke. Clooney hesitated, he wasn't cool-headed enough for that kind of situation, although he felt the adrenaline running through his veins, his mind was stronger and held him captive to the fear of dying.
So this is how Greg feels on missions...
— Come on, you madman! — shouted Martin, almost invisible in the smoke.
Clooney tried to gather courage by saying to himself:
You are too good to die like this!!!
In a fit of eagerness, he jumped forward and began to sneak toward the one who was calling him. The enemy's bullets now responded to Carl Benedetti's, flying over them and hitting what was left of the house. Clooney screamed desperately as he heard the sound of the impacts and felt the shards falling on him, but he did not stop.
With the roll of documents and the flash drive in one hand, Martin reached the kitchen and tried to open the door, but he couldn't find the key, as he had left it somewhere in the living room. He deeply regretted not having been more cautious when he arrived at the place, not having looked for an alternative entrance. He had really underestimated his adversary. They were certainly as Robert had warned, terribly organized, numerous and fearsome.
He couldn't open the door and was afraid to stand up and try to break it down. Still lying down, he pulled out his gun and started shooting around the doorknob, destroying the wood in several places to weaken it. Not only the shards from the door, but also those coming from other sides hit his face and arms, leaving many scratches and cuts. The wound in his stomach was bleeding excessively from the sudden movements he had made, and he felt his strength fading...
It had to be quick...
AFTER THE SHOTS AT THE DOOR and the wood weakened around the handle, he began to strike hard against it, with his feet, lying on the floor under the gunfire. After a few of them, the door gave way and opened, breaking its wood completely. The way was clear, but Martin did not know if he would have the strength to go on.
Clooney caught up with him and crawled to the back of the house. When he saw him lying there, he pulled him out, with great effort and groans of despair.
Carl Benedetti remained undaunted in his confrontation with the unknown adversary, although he was so unprotected behind the sofa. Little by little he crept towards the direction his companions had gone and looked for air to breathe amidst that cursed smoke. His breath was very bad due to the smoke, and in that situation he already felt faint. At one point, however, as he fired the few bullets that remained in his cartridge towards the street, he saw a shadow appear next to him, in the cloud of smoke that still filled the place.
With the excellent reflexes he had even after so many years, he turned and shot at her, hitting her square in the chest. The enemy, however, was carrying a semi-automatic weapon, and as he fell, he released a burst of bullets in her direction, hitting her left arm in two places.
Carl fell backwards to the ground, startled by the apparition and trying to dodge the shots.
Without many options in his arsenal, with a wounded arm and very few bullets remaining, he didn't think about continuing the confrontation, he tried to escape as quickly as he could before others could appear.
When he reached the kitchen door, he stood up and took a deep breath, feeling himself almost resuscitated from the lack of air.
In front of him was Clooney trying to carry Martin, who was in a terrible state covered in his blood. An impossible situation.
— Shit! — he exclaimed.
Carl helped him carry the young agent toward the back wall, which was made of bushes. With some effort, they reached the other side of it and pulled him through the neighbor's yard until they reached the street on the other side.
The killers were already reaching the kitchen door behind them.