“Been ready, boss.”
“Go.”
Switching from goggles to the night vision scope mounted on his Colt AR-15, Trevor watched and waited as Hill made his way to the front door. Adrenaline itched through his veins, but his hands remained steady.
At the door, Grant silently attached the blast strip before easing himself from the building. Squatting down a safe distance away, his deep voice travelled through the team’s coms. “Ready when you are, boss.”
Jake’s eyes remained forward as he spoke to Trevor. “Your call, Matthews.”
Trevor ignored the memories threatening to assault him. A different time. Different team. As he gave the go-ahead, he prayed history wouldn’t repeat itself.
With his chin tipped down, he spoke clearly into the mic attached to his vest. “Light it up, Hill.”
“Fire in the hole.” Grant’s warning came only seconds before the door was blown from its shoddy hinges. A cloud of dust blew toward them.
“Go, go, go!” Trevor yelled loudly.
Swarming the shack from all sides, the members of Alpha Team were at the door and entering the structure within seconds. Guns raised and ready to fire, they moved as one, their boots stomping on top of the fallen door as they made their way inside. It was a lethal dance they’d long-ago perfected.
The smell nearly knocked them over the instant they were inside. It was one Trevor and the others recognized instantly.
“Holy shit.” Coop lowered his weapon and used his other arm to cover his mouth.
Mac did the same, her arm muffling her voice. “Jesus Christ, that’s nasty.”
Pushing past the need to vomit, Trevor blinked against his watering eyes and stared at the source of the odor. There, in the center of the room, was a dead man.
With a medic’s eye, he quickly assessed the visible injuries. Wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, Trevor could easily see his wrists and ankles were tied to a wooden chair. And the man had clearly been tortured.
Dried blood encircled his skin from his struggles against the rough rope. All ten fingers had been broken, as well as the man’s nose and jaw. Shallow cuts that would never heal had been made all over the man’s body. Trevor’s experience told him they’d been made to inflict maximum pain with minimal risk. All made prior to the deep, open gash running along the front of the man’s neck.
Moving his eyes around the rest of the single-room shack, he noticed a large, metal bucket tipped on the floor near a crude, wooden table. A blood-stained towel was in a heap beside it, and Trevor instantly knew what it all meant.
He was waterboarded.
The same memories he’d fought against a few minutes before came barreling in. This man, whoever he was, had been tortured in almost the exact same way Lisa had been before she was killed.
“Check his prints,” Trevor ordered roughly.
Knowing the directive was meant for him, Derek slid his backpack from his shoulders and swiftly removed a small tablet.
Clearly trying to hold his breath, Derek approached the chair and grimaced as he lifted one of the dead man’s disfigured digit. Pressing the fingertip to the screen, they only had to wait a few seconds before the device beeped with recognition.
He stood straight and turned to Trevor and Jake. Lifting the tablet, he turned the screen in their direction. “It’s Omar Hadim.”
“Well, that’s unfortunate,” Coop said, sounding genuinely disappointed. Trevor could sure as hell relate.
“Pretty anti-fucking-climactic, if you ask me,” Grant grumbled. “I’ll keep an eye on things outside.” Then, the big guy unceremoniously left the small space.
Looking like he was about to lose his lunch, Coop spoke up a little too quickly. “Uh, yeah. That’s a good idea. I should probably go with him. You know, just in case.”
Shaking her head, Mac rolled her eyes and mumbled, “Pussies.”
She then unzipped one of her thigh pockets and pulled out her work phone. Knowing Ryker would want as much evidence as they could gather for his final report, she began taking pictures of both Hadim and the room.
“Well, I don’t know who did this to him”—Derek drawled—“but it sure seems like Karma finally caught up with the bastard.”
Trevor was still standing in the same spot he’d stopped in after entering the structure. From beside him, Jake said, “I’d say you’re right, D.” Facing Trevor, he added, “You wanted Lisa and the others to get their justice. Looks like they finally got it. I’m just sorry someone else handed it down before you got the chance to do it yourself.”
