Sweat broke along his brow, and in his desperation he practically lunged for the circular handle overhead. He positioned himself so that his feet were just beneath her shoulders, her head cradled between his thighs. If Caroline climbed up so much as a step, her head would come into contact with his dick and Lord help them both if that happened. She must’ve sensed his desperation because she stayed right where she was, trembling and sweating just like he was.
Reaper yanked the handle, metal crunched on metal as the solid lock slid open. Before he lifted the door, he closed his eyes and pushed his senses outward, searching for the slightest vibration in the air or the earth. There was a panther prowling about a mile away, and howler monkeys were yelling in the trees.
There were no footsteps. However, there were human heartbeats. Almost ten of them.
Of course Gen. Rainier had known about the exit.
Ten to one—not insurmountable odds but not the best considering he was about to pop his head up out of this hole. It was like a game of Whack-a-Mole, only instead of a single sledgehammer-bearing teenager, he was facing ten guns for hire packing serious heat.
The only thing he had working in his favor was the element of surprise. They had no idea when he’d emerge from that hole. All eyes would be focused on the lid.
As soon as the men saw it shift vertically, he’d be dead.
He’d have to go out hot and fast, relying on his highly trained senses to guide him. Even then, if he fired off one round per second, one of the soldiers could still take him out.
His hand fell to his waist and wrapped around the grenade hanging from its holder. Good thing he’d come in packing some serious heat.
“Caroline, they’re out there right now waiting on us to come out.”
She gasped. “No, I can’t go back.”
And she wouldn’t, not if he had any say in the matter. “I can take them out, but I need you to go back down the ladder.”
“What? I can’t—don’t ask me to.”
Reaper gritted his teeth and fought off a small surge of aggravation. He was used to his men following his commands without question. Until Mankel and his mind control. “I’m fixing to pop this lid and toss out a grenade. Do you really want to risk being knocked unconscious from the shock waves?”
He could practically feel her frowning beneath her. “Of course not, it’s just that—”
“I know—you’re claustrophobic, I picked up on that little fact right after we entered the tunnel. I’m not asking you to go all the way to the bottom, just down about ten feet so I know you’re protected.”
He absolutely couldn’t take any risks with her life, not if he was going to save his team. She was more precious than the air he breathed and he’d do everything he could to get her back home safely.
If only his men were here. He wouldn’t even have to explain his plan of action to them. They’d trained together so extensively that each of his men could read the others’ moves with almost zero communication.
Before Project Mayhem they’d been one of the elite of the elite—beyond special forces or black ops—they’d been classified under GA, other government agencies. But now, thanks to Project Mayhem, they were nearly invincible together.
Minus their Achilles heel. The serum.
“Caroline, do what I said now. Ten feet.”
She moved down one rung and stopped. “Reaper, I’m scared. What if the grenade doesn’t kill all of them?”
Of course it wouldn’t kill all of them. The only way his grenade would take out ten men was if they were standing around the hatch in a circle. Unless they were complete idiots, they’d be spread out on different levels and different distances with different weapons. At best, he could take out three, maybe four, and use the smoke as a distraction and camouflage. “I will take care of the rest of the men. You stay down here until I come back and get you.”
“And if you don’t come back?” she whispered.
That wasn’t an option. “I’ll be back.”
He knew she wanted to argue, but she kept silent and descended. As soon as she was a safe distance away, Reaper pulled the grenade from his chest. He leaned his head to the right and then the left, rolling his shoulders in preparation for combat. Shit up there was about to get real ugly.
Primed and ready to move, Reaper grabbed the overhead handle and yanked. He shoved it up just far enough to toss out the grenade before slamming it shut again. There were shouts and a couple of seconds later a boom rocked the tunnel. Caroline screamed.
Reaper burst from the tunnel seconds later, gun raised and ready. The door slammed shut behind him. Smoke rolled around him, providing a thick, acrid haze. Camouflage. He’d gotten three men. A couple more were still alive but hadn’t gathered their bearings yet.
He sensed movement behind him and dropped to the ground and rolled. A bullet whizzed a couple feet overhead the place he’d been standing moments before. On his belly, Reaper fired on instinct.
It was a direct hit.
