Saint lay on top of me, his weight an alien sensation that was easier to endure than Alexei’s fake booty-call energy.
He widened the hole and pointed a gloved finger at a cluster of buildings far closer than I’d anticipated. “Back left.”
The back left building was made of wood and divided into sections. “Kennels?”
“Maybe.”
I gritted my teeth. Were there dogs here too? Was that how this was going to go down? Like some sick torture scene from a shitty mafia film?
“No dogs,” Saint murmured as if he’d read my mind. “I haven’t seen all I need to see, but I’d have heard them by now.”
“How do we get to that building?”
Saint didn’t answer. Just pulled the leaves back into place and slid off me so fast my lungs expanded hard enough to hurt.
I coughed.
He thumped my back and pointed down. “Go.”
We clambered down, jumping the last few metres.
Saint landed at Cam’s feet and grabbed a stick. He carved the layout of the derelict yard into the chalky soil, circling the kennel building. “I can see inside every building but this one. If they brought him here, that’s where he’ll be.”
I hadn’t considered the possibility that Mateo had been taken elsewhere. I dropped to a crouch, vision swimming as I tried to focus on Saint’s quick-fire plan, but his brevity was too much for me. Too assumptive of the brain power needed to fill in the gaps.
“There’s no fence,” Cam said. “Just the river around the back.”
“It’s high,” Folk said.
Locke nodded. “From the rain last week. It’s not wide, though. You could make it, right? In one breath?”
Folk nodded. “Easy. I can pull someone with me too.”
“Me.” I rose to my feet. “I’m a good swimmer and I don’t smoke a million fags a day.”
Cam shook his head. “You’ve got an exposed wound.” He jabbed a finger at Saint. “Not you either. I’ll do it.”
Saint opened his mouth.
Cam silenced him the way only he could. “You and Embry go round. Locke and Nash advance from this side. No guns unless you have to, but do what needs to be done to any fucker who gets in your way.”
A phone buzzed.
Saint’s.
He glanced at the screen, and something inside him seemed to relax. But whatever it was, he kept it to himself and frustration banded Cam’s broad shoulders. He growled more instructions, then slapped his weapon in his palm.
“Ten minutes. That’s all we have to get in and out. This is our rally point. Don’t get killed.”
We moved out, splitting into three groups. I’d never seen Cam swim, so I tried not to think about him dunking himself in the murky river and followed Saint, trusting him to lead me around a site he’d seen more of than me.
More hedgerows covered us until we came to exposed land. The kennel building was twenty feet away, but between us were guards, gun holsters visible beneath their clothes.
I counted three, and I trusted Saint could take down two before they heard us coming. My own aim was less reliable. Beating a man to death was my claim to fame, but I’d never shot to kill, and it had been years since I’d handled a gun at all.
Sunlight made Mateo’s brown hair shine like molten chocolate. “If you can see it, you can shoot it. Don’t worry about anything else.”
All right then.
