Sam's eyes went wide, and he dragged Nathan farther into the room, out of the line of sight through the doorway. Nathan dropped his hand from Sam's face.

"Do we take them?" Sam asked, his voice barely audible.

"Or the window." Nathan nodded towards it behind Sam.

"I can't fight."

"But if we got a gun." They both stopped talking, because there were definitely footsteps in the house's entryway.

"If there's more than three or four then we don't stand a chance." Nathan whispered as fast as he could.

"Window?"

"Window." They tiptoed hastily to it and slid it open, making more noise than they wanted to.

"You first," Nathan said, and Sam hopped onto the windowsill, twisted and flipped his legs over, and dropped the couple of feet to the ground. Just as he dropped, Nathan heard the floor creak just outside the bedroom and he made a split-second decision. Moving quickly, he flattened himself along the wall that the door was on (he was already standing against it) and slid along it towards the door. He barely got into position before a person, heavily armored and armed with a rifle, stepped through.

Nathan was slower than he once was, but still quick enough. The person didn't have time to react before Nathan had grabbed him from behind and gave one quick jerk. He heard the crack and they dropped like a stone in front of him. He didn't have time to process it; instinctually he scooped up the rifle and with a swiftness he hadn't had in twenty years, he got to the window and launched himself out.

"You've still got it, little brother," Sam whispered, grinning.

"Ah, it's just like riding a bike," Nathan responded, trying to catch his breath. However, he didn't have time. A shout rang out from inside the house; someone had found the body, and in seconds they would notice the open window. The brothers ducked below the window's level and ran along the edge of the house towards the road, careful to stay out of sight from inside.

The fence between Sam's house and the neighbors was not the sturdiest-looking thing in the world and most of the way towards the street, a post had rotted out and several boards had fallen off. Nathan motioned to it and they slipped through. Now using the fence as cover, they could get closer to the road and get a decent look at the front of the house.

A rusty black panel van sat parked on the street in front of Sam's house. From their hiding spot they couldn't see anyone in the front seats, but the windows were dark enough that they couldn't tell for sure.

"Probably a rental," Sam muttered. Nathan almost laughed but managed to only nod.

Another armed man burst out of the front door and two more followed.

"They have to be close!" one of them barked. "Keep looking."

"I have a shot," Nathan said, peering through the rifle's scope.

"There's too many for us to take."

"So, we stay here and let them take us out?" Nathan whispered, getting frustrated.

"We gotta do this quietly," Sam responded, but his voice sounded farther away. Nathan glanced over his shoulder, and Sam no longer crouched at his side. Rather, he darted back down the fence line towards the opening. Nathan started to shout but stopped himself. Sam was going to get himself killed...

Nathan looked back to the front and scanned the situation. Three men total had come outside. One had gone around the side of the house opposite from where he hid. The other two had separated. One had returned inside, and the other now came towards him. Nathan pressed himself against the fence, trying to think. He had a shot. If he missed, he was dead.

Nathan took a deep breath and listened carefully, hearing where the footsteps were and planning where he was going to aim. He was about to lean around and take a shot, when he heard a gunshot from the other side of the house. Fear and adrenaline shot through him and he began to panic. Sam. It was just as likely that a mercenaries' shot had met it's mark as it was that Sam had managed to kill one of them. He had to take this guy out and figure out where Sam had gone. Lucky for Nathan, the shot had gotten the attention of the person who was bearing down on him. When Nathan poked around the end of the fence, the person's back faced him. Nathan fired.

He held the trigger down, letting several shots rapid fire into the person's back, but it wasn't enough. They spun around to face him, and Nathan knew that their armor was bullet-proof, and now he was pinned down. He whipped back around to the temporary safety that the fence provided and heard several bullets fire. One whizzed through the fence within six inches of his head, blasting a hole in the wood. Nathan dashed sideways away from the street and heard several more shots, but nothing hit him.

"Goddammit, you can't hide forever," the person snarled, but a moment later another voice spoke up.

"Put the gun down."

**********

"We gotta do this quietly," Sam said, backing silently away from Nathan and heading back to where they came from, already forming a plan in his head, assuming that they knew about all the gunmen. He prayed it was only those three. And the one Nathan had already killed.

Sam moved as quickly as he could back down the side of the house and hoisted himself into the window. The body was still on the floor and Sam searched it for any weapons and found a large folding knife on the person's belt. That would work.

Fortunately, Sam had the advantage of knowing the house better than anyone, and now he slipped through a small living area, moving towards the kitchen. He heard the front door opening again and flattened himself against the wall next to an arch connecting the living space and the kitchen.

It was only a few seconds before someone came through the archway, but Sam was ready. He jumped them from behind and with one quick motion, drew the knife across their throat. They fell to the floor.

Swooping down and grabbing the gun from their hands, Sam jumped to his feet again in seconds. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the head of someone walking under the windows across the room from him; the opposite side of the house he had come in from. He sprinted across the room and yanked one of the windows open.

"Hey, asshole." The person spun to face Sam and he fired a single shot that, at such a close distance, broke through the glass of the eye hole of their helmet. They dropped instantly.

There were several gunshots outside. Nathan, Sam thought and darted for the front door, ignoring the pain increasing in his injured leg and the knot of dread forming in his stomach. When he got outside, he found the last gunman tracking Nathan down the fence line, trying to get a clear shot.

"Goddammit, you can't hide forever," they sneered. Sam snuck up behind them and pressed the tip of his rifle against the exposed skin between their armor and their helmet.

"Put the gun down," he said icily. With no other choice, the gunman lowered his rifle.

"Now, now, don't do anything stupid," the stranger said.

"Your other three friends are already dead, so that's three stupid things we've already done today. Hey, Nathan, take his gun." To the gunman, he said, "If the end of that thing so much as leaves the ground, buddy, you're toast." Nathan came forward cautiously and took the rifle from their hands.

"Good," Sam said. "Now let's take a walk inside." His rifle never left the person's neck as they marched in.

"Now, take off your helmet, hand it to Nathan, and sit down on the couch," Sam instructed. They did as they were told and now Sam and Nathan stood in front of them with the gun still aimed.

"All right," Sam said. He smirked, his expression menacing. It felt good to have the upper hand. "How about you tell us what you boys were doing here."

"Trying to kill you, dumbass," the man hissed.

"Good, great, okay." Sam wiped his hand across his forehead and set it on his hip. "And what do you have against us?"

"Not both. Just you," he said. His eyes narrowed at Sam

"Just me?" Sam asked, glancing uneasily at Nathan. The man nodded.

"You heard me. Our instructions were to kill you, Samuel Drake."

"Okay, uh...just, help me out here. I'm confused. What have I done to warrant an assassination attempt?" Sam asked. No reply.

"Fine." Sam sighed heavily. "Who do you work for?"

"I work for myself. They just paid me good."

"Okay, Jesus, who paid you? I thought that was implied. If they're paying you, you work for them," Sam said, exasperated. He fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"A fancy Brit. They call him Charles Marlowe." The man gave a smile that was laced with malice.

"Marlowe?" Nathan said, taking several steps forward so he was standing even with Sam and he could see the older brother's face. "Wait, Sam, I know that name."

"You do?" Sam asked, looking at Nathan sharply. At the same time, the mercenary said,

"You'd better. He sends his regards." The brothers turned back to him, but they'd given the man just enough time to pull the pin.

"Get down!" Nathan shouted, but his warning came too late. He and Sam both flew backwards as the mercenary exploded.

**********