Thunderous raid

In the sunset's fading glow, the abandoned gas station cast a long shadow.

The air was taut, mingled with the smell of motor oil and blood.

Davis guarded the convenience store entrance, his shotgun slung diagonally across him, his gaze sweeping the wilderness.

Andrea held the high ground, her rifle steady. Her marksmanship had improved rapidly.

Glenn and T-Dog stood guard by the wall, having stopped their cleanup work.

Rick sat beside the jeep, his leg freshly rebandaged, his expression grave.

Lori held Carl, Carol hugged Sophia, and Min-seon stood watch beside them.

Everyone was quiet, their eyes drifting now and then toward the fields to the southeast, all waiting for the outcome there.

Time passed as they waited.

At last, the weeds at the edge of the gas station stirred.

Three figures swiftly emerged: Daryl, Merle, and Shane.

Merle carried a man over his shoulder, his hands bound behind his back, his mouth gagged, his face injured.

Daryl held a battered pair of military binoculars and an old hunting rifle.

Shane brought up the rear with his shotgun ready, scanning behind them.

"Boss! All done!"

Merle grinned and dumped the man onto the gravel, drawing a muffled groan.

"Clear," Daryl said tersely, handing the binoculars and hunting rifle to Lynn. "He was alone in the barn. We got the sentry positions out of him."

He looked at the prisoner groaning on the ground.

Lynn took the binoculars, cold and heavy, and looked at Daryl. "Intel."

Daryl nodded. "Their base is two kilometers northeast, at the abandoned Sunset Motel. Twenty-one or twenty-three people.

"The boss is called Scarface. Bald, knife scar on his left cheek.

"Two pickups, a Ford F-150 and a Chevy, with steel plates welded on.

"Weapons: seven or eight hunting rifles, a dozen or so machetes, a few handguns. Not much ammo. And..."

He paused for emphasis. "Two RPG-7 launchers, four rounds total, hidden in the easternmost room on the motel's second floor.

"This sentry said they're their last resort for dealing with tough opponents."

"Rocket launchers?!"

Glenn gasped quietly, his face turning pale.

Shock appeared on everyone's faces. Their enemies actually had weapons that devastating.

Merle kicked the prisoner. "Bastard wouldn't talk. Had to break a few fingers before he remembered where the launchers were."

The prisoner twitched on the ground.

Lynn's gaze turned cold. Rocket launchers-that exceeded his estimates.

They posed an enormous threat in open ground.

The Jackal's intelligence had been accurate, but the enemy had held back a trump card.

The threat had escalated!

Negotiations were now completely out of the question.

"The motel's layout?" Lynn asked directly.

"Two stories, U-shaped, parking lot in the middle," Daryl answered quickly. "They mostly hang out in a big room on the first floor with the dividing walls knocked through.

"Scarface and two trusted men are in the room with the launchers at the east end of the second floor.

"The sentry said... they saw we had women and an RV that wouldn't move, and figured we were easy pickings.

"They'll probably strike once it's a little darker and they've figured out our numbers and weapons."

Shane cracked his knuckles. "Fuck! Those bastards even have rocket launchers.

"Lynn, we can't keep waiting. We have to move now, hit them before they're ready. If they get those things out, we're all finished."

Rick opened his mouth, looked at the prisoner on the ground, then at Lynn's cold profile, and lowered his head. The rocket launchers had shattered his last illusions.

Negotiations required both sides to be evenly matched.

Lynn surveyed the group, fear mingling with anger. He needed an elite force to eliminate the threat quickly.

"Davis." Lynn's voice was decisive.

Davis stepped forward, as silent and composed as ever.

"Shane."

"Daryl."

"Merle."

"Glenn."

Those named tensed. Glenn gritted his teeth and nodded.

"You five, come with me." Lynn's gaze swept over them. "Our target is the Sunset Motel.

"Mission: eliminate all hostile threats. Prioritize destroying or securing the launchers and ammunition.

"Requirements: fast, precise, ruthless. Leave no survivors."

"Yes, Boss!" Davis answered.

"About damn time!" Shane racked his shotgun.

Merle licked his lips. "Big job!"

Daryl cocked his crossbow.

Glenn tightened his grip on his handgun, his face pale but his gaze steady.

Lynn looked at Rick, Andrea, and T-Dog. "Rick, stay and command the camp's defense. Andrea, T-Dog, assist Rick. Hold this place and protect the women and children.

"If anything happens, Rick has authority to open fire."

T-Dog nodded. "Count on us!"

Rick looked at Lynn with a complicated expression, then finally nodded. "Be careful."

Lynn turned toward the jeep, and Davis followed, heading for the driver's seat.

Shane squeezed into the back seat while Merle and Daryl stood beside the doors.

Glenn glanced at everyone in camp, opened the rear passenger-side door, and climbed in.

The engine growled.

Without turning on its headlights, the jeep slipped off the road, crushing weeds as it headed northeast.

Inside the jeep, all was quiet except for the engine's rumble and their breathing.

Everyone prepared tensely.

Lynn leaned back and closed his eyes, quietly issuing instructions to The Jackal:

"Jackal, your target is the Sunset Motel.

"Prioritize clearing the room on the east side of the second floor and the rocket launcher holder. Hunt at will."

The order went out without a reply.

Lynn knew The Jackal was already moving.

Before long, the jeep stopped in a hollow a few hundred meters from the motel, and its engine shut off.

Ahead, the dilapidated, U-shaped two-story building took shape in the fading light. Firelight shone through several windows, with faint swearing and laughter drifting out.

Two pickups with welded steel plating stood in the parking lot.

"Follow the plan," Lynn's voice broke the silence. "Davis, handle the frontal assault. Create chaos and draw their fire.

"Shane, Merle, take the left flank and clear the targets on the first floor.

"Daryl, Glenn, take the right flank. Secure high ground, provide suppression, and locate the rocket launcher window. The target is at the east end of the second floor."

"Move!"

They melted into the darkness and rushed toward their targets.

Lynn was fastest, heading straight for the main entrance without seeking cover, though he moved through shadows and wrecked cars.

The battle erupted with a tremendous roar!

Boom-!!!

Davis charged from behind a wrecked car and fired his shotgun at a lit first-floor window. Buckshot blasted through the frame and glass, drawing screams and curses from inside.

"We're under attack!"

The motel instantly erupted into uproar.

Almost simultaneously, Shane's shotgun thundered on the left flank, followed by Merle's curses and the sounds of hacking blades.

On the right, a crossbow bolt sliced through the air and buried itself in the eye socket of a raider peering out from the second floor. Glenn followed with repeated handgun shots.

Chaos swept through the motel, leaving the raiders stunned.

Lynn crossed the parking lot amid the chaotic muzzle flashes and pressed close to the motel wall. Bracing one hand on a projecting section, he vaulted onto the second-floor walkway.

Two startled raiders had just rushed out onto the walkway when a dark blur flashed past. Agony tore through their throats, and they fell, clutching their necks.

Lynn never stopped, charging straight toward the lit room at the far eastern end! He could sense the savage aura inside.

Inside the room, Scarface held a revolver and roared at his two men, "The launchers! Get them outside and blow those fuckers apart!"

One man was dragging a canvas bag (RPG) from beneath the bed, while the other carried a crate of rockets.

Scarface had just pulled the door open-

Pfft! Pfft!

Two faint sounds.

Scarface and the man dragging the bag froze. Blood welled from a hole in Scarface's forehead, his gaze fixed. His subordinate slumped, shot through the back of the head.

The remaining raider carrying the crate froze in terror, then shrieked, dropped it, and reached for his gun.

Lynn had already charged into the room. His left hand clamped around the man's gun wrist and twisted viciously.

Crack! Bone snapped!

"Aah-!"

The raider screamed.

Lynn hooked his right arm around the man's neck and wrenched.

The scream cut off with the faint crack of breaking vertebrae.

Within five seconds, all three were dead.

Scarface and his subordinate had died to precision shots (The Jackal), while Lynn had killed the last.

Lynn ignored the bodies, fixing his gaze on the canvas bag and wooden crate. The greatest threat had been neutralized.

Then a furious roar came from downstairs: "The launchers! Give them to me, now!!" Heavy footsteps charged toward the stairs!

Lynn's gaze chilled, and he darted to the doorway.

Downstairs, a burly raider (Scarface's trusted man), his eyes bloodshot, hacked a companion aside with his machete and charged toward the stairs. He knew where the launchers were.

He reached the foot of the stairs-

Pfft!

A crossbow bolt shot from a dark corner to the side, piercing the side of his neck.

The burly raider abruptly faltered and staggered several steps, his machete falling to the floor. Clutching his spurting neck, he made strange, rasping noises and turned his head.

Lynn paid no heed, leaping straight down from the second floor and plunging his military dagger into the top of the burly raider's head as he fell.

The blade pierced his skull.

The light died in the burly raider's eyes. His massive body crashed onto the stairs, shaking loose dust.

The first-floor hall instantly fell silent.

The surviving raiders were stunned.

Scarface was dead, the launchers hadn't fired, and their strongest fighter was dead too.

They watched Lynn pull out his dagger and coldly survey the room, saw Davis, Shane, and Merle closing in, saw Glenn aiming his gun at the entrance and Daryl raising his crossbow on the second floor...

Despair settled over them.

One man dropped his machete, then a second, a third... Clanging rang out in succession.

The remaining seven or eight raiders knelt and raised their hands.

The raid had destroyed the motel stronghold in minutes. No one had noticed The Jackal shooting Scarface and his subordinate, or that final fatal bolt.

The threat was eliminated.

Lynn flicked the blood from his dagger and surveyed the kneeling prisoners and the bodies.