Free The Golden Crystal by Nick Thacker Page A

something going on?” Jeff asked his older brother. 
    “No idea, seemed pretty quiet out there tonight.”
    “Yeah - let’s just grab our gear; we can change later if we need to.”
    As they entered their room they could hear scuffling sounds in the hall ahead, around the corner to their left.
    They both froze at the sudden unmistakable sound of a gunshot. 
    “What the hell?” asked Wayne.
    “Watch my back,” Jeff said, tossing Wayne’s gear toward him. “I’ll see if I can get a look around the corner.” He grabbed his handgun and radio and hustled back into the hall with his brother close behind.
    At the corner Jeff crouched, peering carefully around the corner.
    A shot from somewhere down the hall narrowly missed his unprotected head. 
    “Shit!” he yelled, ducking back undercover. 
    Wayne grabbed him by the collar. “Let’s go around — we can block their exit from the north wing!”
    Jeff followed his brother the other direction, crouch-running in the dimly lit hall. With no sounds from behind them, they focused their attention forward, expecting a threat at any moment. 
    This building housed the scientists’ quarters — mostly dormitory-style rooms along the exterior wall. The rooms on both floors opened onto the inner perimeter hall, with a single large amphitheater and meeting hall taking up the center of the structure. The brothers intended to intercept the shooters — whoever they were — by cutting off their escape route either through the theater or around the hallway. 
    The theater entrance was directly in front of the main doors. Wayne slowed and took up a position outside the theater doors, careful to stay out of the light coming through the main entrance. He signaled for Jeff to stay put. 
    Jeff turned, automatically taking up the rear guard. “If they come through the theater, they’ll have a straight shot through the main doors,” Wayne whispered almost inaudibly. “Stay here and don’t let ‘em get past you. I’ll move up to the next corner and see if they’re trying to get around the back way.” Without waiting for a reply, Wayne ran forward, hugging the wall. He paused for a second at the corner, peered around it, then disappeared from Jeff’s view. 
    Wayne could see the far end of the hall clearly. Two men — soldiers from their looks — were standing against the wall, looking the other way. At first they didn’t see him coming toward them at a determined trot, but one of them eventually caught the movement in his peripheral vision. With a swift turn, the soldier lifted his assault rifle to his eye — just as his head disappeared in a cloud of blood as Wayne’s hollow point impacted the bridge of his nose.
    Wayne’s Smith & Wesson Compact 9mm wasn’t silenced, and in the closed-in hallway the shot was almost deafening. Without slowing, he targeted the second man — now fumbling around, trying to bring his weapon to bear — and fired two more shots, putting the man down. As he fell, Wayne continued his quick jog, only slowing down as he reached the bodies and the next corner. As he dropped to one knee to check for vital signs and move the weapons out of reach, Jeff ran up, clearly making sure his brother hadn’t been caught alone in a gunfight. Taking stock of the situation, Jeff breathed a sigh of relief.
    “Let’s get to work,” Jeff said, almost solemnly. His entire demeanor had changed completely. Five minutes earlier, he had been a fun-loving, carefree kid brother. Now Wayne saw Jeff’s face take on a steely resolve; the quietly angry look of a cowboy who’d just learned that there was a trespasser on his land. Wayne knew from experience that in situations like this it was best to point him in the right direction and stay the hell out of the way. 
    They looked around the next corner, expecting an immediate onslaught of gunfire. Instead, there was almost complete silence as they cautiously moved ahead. The only sound was a faint beeping. They both