Footsteps sound, the door handle turns, and she chickens out. “You go. I’ll stall as long as I can.”
Right, the baby.I shoot the window and as it crumbles, say a prayer, and jump.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Suds
A gunshot booms, glass shatters, and a woman jumps out of the window frame. Damn, it’s not just any woman, it’s Sam. Her legs flail, her flimsy dress rides up to her waist, and for a horrible moment she veers off course.
With the grace of a flying ostrich, she wiggles her arms and misses the cement patio by mere inches. Seconds later, her wet head pops up in the deep end of the pool and my heart starts beating again.
When this is all over, I’m going to spank her behind but good for skydiving without a parachute. However, right now, we’ve been waiting for a distraction and she’s provided it.
After her amazing display of stupidity, it’s fucking hard to focus on the mission but we’re committed and my pals are counting on me.
“Move, move, move!” Lucky, crouching beside me, slaps my shoulder.
Jack and Slate, at the front of the house answer as one. “Copy that.”
“Two guns headed toward the pool.” Grayson, stationed at the hotel, feeds us intel from the drone.
“On it.” Leaning forward, my weapon pointed toward the house, my pal and I break through the hedges.
Sam, now at the ledge, crawls out, and makes a beeline for the sea. Even now, I admire how her mind works. If she swims out far enough, she’ll be harder to find but dammit, she could just as easily drown.
I’m torn. Do I run for her or save the rest? Both. Fuck. Racing like hell, I shout as she starts to dive. “Sam, to me.”
She turns and thank God, runs toward me. Her wet dress clings, leaving nothing to the imagination and as much as I want to take her in my arms and comfort her, I need to help my buddies to rescue the rest.
Two men with rifles follow me and because they point, I have to take them out. It’s a damn shame but it had to be done.
Barefoot, Sam flies back toward me and stops to retrieve a rifle from dead hands. Armed, she follows me into the house, her hand at my back, grasping my belt.
Crumbled safety glass crunches under my boots as we make our way to the house. Girls scream, guns go off, and men shout in Arabic.
Inside. Lucky says into my comm unit. “Ask Sam. How many sheilas?”
Quickly, I glance behind me. “How many teens were with you?”
“Fourteen total, counting me and Sienna.” She points out five huddled in a corner.
“Get them to the van out front.” I shove her gently in their direction.
Nodding, she grabs one by the hand and by some miracle they trust her to lead them to safety.
Jack says into my comm. “The upstairs is clear. Coming down.”
Shit. Eight girls still to find.“Talk to me, Gray. How many in the first room?” Back to back with the giant Aussie, I make my way down a long hallway and stop at the door.
“Two.”That makes sense. One Arab pig and one underage female.
My fist bangs on oak. “Send out the girl.”
Ready for friend or foe, I keep my finger on the trigger as footsteps sound and the door handle turns. When a kid of no more than sixteen appears, my pal pushes her behind him and we race to the next room.
He checks his watch. “This is taking way too long, mate. The local authorities will arrive any second.”
Jack shouts into my comm. “Where the fuck are you two?”
