Kenn shrugged, sliding his knife back into his muddy black boot. "We'll have taken out at least half these men and that'll leave a lot of exits with light or no cover. We'll look from those trees along the windows first, then slip in, and nail 'em as we find 'em. Once inside, we head for the gym, 'cause that's where they'll be with a group of sheep that size. From there, we'll do what we do best."
"They might negotiate, surrender."
Kenn stood up, automatically checking his gear and gun, and the other Eagles followed his lead. They had been on a few missions where hostages were involved, but only once had there been a shootout, the small gang of Aryan Brothers not wanting to give up their captives. They had given their lives instead, but the newness of doing battle hadn't worn off for the Eagles yet.
Kenn tapped his good luck charm, a Zippo lighter he kept in his pocket, voice hard. "Adrian wouldn't and we won't either. Top four shooters with me, the rest to the sides and meet up. I'm man in the middle. On my mark."
Kenn's timing was perfect. He and Kyle fired as they ran, and the two Mexican lookouts jerked at the same time, fell together. The other dark-skinned man on the roof ran toward his comrade and then he too arched, stopped, falling as the second rush of black-clad Eagles hit the building.
They came to the wall in two, fast waves, Kenn and Kyle stepping into view as the front doors opened and two short, hard-looking Slavers walked out.
Kyle whistled and then waved a ringed middle finger at their shocked faces. The two men drew their guns, and the Eagles ducked back out of sight as they gave chase.
"One...two...three. Now!"
Jumping out together, their guns took down both men before they could return fire, Kenn shooting twice.
The two Eagles quickly dragged the heavy bodies around the corner as Chris, Kyle's second Eagle, pointed to the other row of trees. "The Banners center there. That's probably the gym."
Eight men carefully eased up the trees a minute later, using the thick branches for cover from the ground and windows, glad they were gloved against the moldy bark.
"Bulletproof glass." Kenn's voice was barely audible.
Kyle grinned, showing white teeth, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Not today. All the Eagles are packing armor-piercing rounds. Your gat clips, too."
Kenn's mind raced as he peered through the dirty glass, seeing only five armed men around the circle of roughly 50 civilians on the filthy, gymnasium floor. Which one was the Man?