The Last Operation (The Remnants of War Series, Book 1) by Patrick Astre

about the people remaining in the house. Perhaps two or three guards and they would be asleep, off duty at this time. No, the big worry was the smaller house some fifty yards off. That house was more like a barracks and held about thirty men. They were poorly trained but would overwhelm the small team by sheer numbers alone. For the moment at least all was quiet in the mansion. The gunshots in the basement had been muffled by the thick stonewalls.
    He made it back to Miguel's apartment and searched frantically until he found a silver replica of a horned devil with a looped tail and a number of keys attached in the loop. He ran back downstairs and to the lower basement. One of the keys fit and opened the door. He stepped inside.
    * * *
    Richard Daniels slumped down in the seat and pulled the wide brim of the campesino hat over his eyes as they approached the guarded gate. Carlos gave a lazy wave and turned as if saying something to Daniel on the passenger's seat next to him. Daniels nodded his head without raising the hat. The ferro-cement gate swung open on its motorized track. Carlos headed the Durango down the mile-long road toward the second guard post.
    * * *
    Rhineman immediately recognized the man sitting on the floor. Pale and drawn, scraggly beard flecked with dried blood, James LeCount was chained to the cot that in turn was bolted into the concrete floor. The chain gave him just enough room to sit on the floor or lie down on the cot. He was on the floor because the cot held Oscar "Loony" Velez. The younger man's face was pale and his eyes open and listless. Oscar's left leg was a bloody swollen mess at the knee. LeCount had torn the pant leg and applied a tourniquet just above the joint.
    Rhineman stopped three feet from the chained men and squatted so their heads were level. LeCount's eyes opened wide as he realized he was facing a parody of Miguel Aquilino and not the real thing.
    "I'm an operative, part of a team getting you both out of here. How bad is he?" said Rhineman pointing toward Oscar's leg.
    "Shit, you're just in time," said LeCount, "They get more pissed off every day. That sadistic fucker Aquilino shot him in the kneecap yesterday." He paused and looked at Rhineman.
    "I know it ain't fucking Halloween, so I guess, no, make that I pray, you punched his clock and look like him to pull us out of here."
    "On target buckaroo. The way it works, we got about one and a half minute to meet our ride just outside. How bad is he? Can he walk?" Oscar Velez sat up. Every move yanked a grimace of pain from his face. His skin had the complexion of a jaundiced sickly old man. Rhineman pulled a small hypodermic syringe and injected Oscar.
    "That should mask the pain and give you a few minutes of straight thinking. That's all we need. We'll have you in a top military hospital by dinnertime."
    Rhineman fumbled with the keys until he found the one that opened the chain lock holding the men to the cot. LeCount helped Oscar to his feet and placed his arm around his shoulder. Oscar's left leg hung useless and dragging as fresh blood seeped out of the hideous wound that was his knee. Rhineman thought Velez would be lucky to keep the leg. He surely wouldn't walk right again.
    They went up the basement steps into the circular hallway with Rhineman leading the way. The right side of his white pants was bright red with blood from the leg wound. He limped slightly and winced with every step. The ricochet bullet had passed through muscle without hitting anything vital but it was now seriously talking to him.
    Kurt Rhineman was running on adrenaline.
    "We can't go through the front of the house. Fucked up as we are right now, their dumbest son of a bitch guard would make us out. We gotta use the kitchen service entrance."
    They walked thirty feet to the vaulted brick arch that decorated the entrance to the mansion's kitchen. Rhineman ushered LeCount and Velez inside. He started through the entrance when he heard the voice behind him,