They’d buried Barbara first thing in the morning, and Tace had brought her kitten to Sami’s room since Derek ended up being allergic. The mechanic had wept during the service.
So had Sami while clutching her rosary. How many people had to die?
“Mission, baby,” Tace murmured. “Focus on right now.”
She nodded.
The Plaza building had thirty floors aboveground, so there was no way to infiltrate via the roof. There had to be escape tunnels built into the facility, but she had no idea where they led to or from.
As assault plans went, they were operating in the dark. Literally and figuratively. The idea of seeing Dr. Ramirez again, if he was still alive, made her want to throw up.
They parked and quickly exited the vehicle from behind a deserted and silent bank building that had at least fifty floors.
A team moved in from each direction, leaving getaway vehicles and medical supplies exactly three blocks from the target. If one escape route was blocked, they had three more chances.
Six Vanguard and Mercenary soldiers composed each team . . . a total of twenty-four people in all. It was the most either group could afford to lose.
Sami’s group of six included Tace, Jax, Raze, Greyson, and Damon. Grey and Damon had gotten in a blowup about Damon’s participating, but the ex-cop wouldn’t be dissuaded. They’d left without letting the Pure church know he was part of the team. Hopefully.
“Remember the good old days with radio communications and earpieces?” Jax muttered to Raze.
“I’m still not talking to you,” Raze countered, shoving a knife into his boot.
“You just did,” Jax said.
Sami shimmied a bulletproof vest over her head and secured the Velcro. “Boys. Now isn’t the time to fight, although I think Raze was correct.” The soldier had insisted, rather loudly, that Jax needed to stay behind and lead Vanguard in case they didn’t make it out.
Jax had disagreed—just as loudly.
“I’m a soldier, Raze. That ain’t never gonna change,” Jax said, glancing up at the waning moon and securing his own vest.
“If you get shot, I’m not hauling your ass out,” Raze retorted.
“Ditto,” Jax snapped.
“Knock it off.” Sami carefully slipped a backpack over her arms, which held grenades and C4. The haul from the president’s safe house had been scarily impressive. Good thing she was with people who were familiar with the weapons and explosives. She’d only seen such things on television and still wasn’t sure of the official names for some of the devices.
Tace grabbed a rocket launcher and hefted it over one shoulder. Sweat dotted his forehead, and his pupils had dilated.
She moved toward him. “Are you okay?” she whispered while everyone else suited up.
He nodded.
She elbowed him in the gut and hit his vest. She winced.
He glanced down.Can’t see out of my left eye,he mouthed.
Shit. “Let me know if it gets bad enough you can’t move,” she whispered. While leaving him at the truck might be a safer move, if he had another attack, it might be his last. They needed the syringe for him and right now.
What if she couldn’t find the right enzyme? What if the Bunker was out of the stuff? She shook off her fears and waited for the “go” sign.
Jax motioned for everyone to gather. “We have no idea how many soldiers they have or what kind of patrols they do. Keep an ear out . . . and if possible, knock out and secure instead of kill. Remember, these folks might think they’re still working for the US government.”
Sami shivered. “Some of the soldiers might not even be aware of the experiments. But who knows.”
Greyson turned to Damon. “If it’s you or them . . .”
“Copy that,” Damon said. “Mercy is a luxury.”
