Janie sent him a sneer and a foreboding, “For now.”
The look in his eyes grew hard as stone, and when he turned around, she thought he was leaving. Janie was too busy feeling proud of herself for the way she’d stood her ground to notice his arm suddenly swinging her way.
Pain exploded as the back of his hand slammed into the side of her face. She cried out as the blow sent her flying to the floor. Her head bounced off the concrete a fraction of a second before her shoulder and hip.
A thousand bright, tiny stars filled her vision, and it was all she could do to stay awake.
“You know, your friend thought she was in charge at first, too.” Campbell lowered himself into a squat beside her. “So I suggest you get that attitude of yours in check, unless you want to end up just like her.”
He’s trying to scare you. He’s using threats and physical intimidation to frighten you into submission.
She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t scared. But Janie was also beyond pissed and willing to do whatever it took to survive. Even if it meant letting this sorry excuse for a man believe he had her completely controlled.
A small groan escaped that wasn’t the least bit performative, which only helped her cause.
“I’ll be back in a while to ask you some questions.” Campbell pushed himself up to his feet. “Oh, and just so you know, I’m bringing a friend. And he’s very good at getting people to talk.”
He walked out, shut the door, and locked her inside. Janie’s chin trembled, and though she tried like hell to keep them at bay, a fresh onslaught of tears rushed to the surface.
She’d talked a tough game, and she’d meant every word she’d said. But as she lay with her head pounding and her body aching from the blow, Janie couldn’t help but be afraid.
Please be looking for me, Emmett. I don’t know how to get out of this one without you.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Jethro Barclay looked every bit the formidable man Emmett had come to expect. With his six-four frame, broad shoulders, and fit, muscular build, the only parts of him that gave away the man’s age were his thick, silver hair and matching beard.
Like Echo, he was dressed in all black, an imposing form moving with purpose and a confidence that couldn’t be faked. Others may see a man like him coming their way and assume he was past his prime.
Others would be wrong.
One look at the guy’s impressive skills and kills was all it took to know how deadly he was. From what Emmett had seen on paper, the former Delta Force operator was the perfect choice for Echo’s current mission. And if there was any doubt, the long rifle slung over Jethro’s broad shoulder was more confirmation that the man was dangerous.
“Show time.” He reached down and flashed hisheadlights twice, letting the man watching know it was safe to approach.
Jethro walked across the abandoned parking lot with long, powerful steps. When their pinch hitter was only a few yards away, Emmett opened his door and exited the SUV. He shut the door quietly and crossed the remaining distance, meeting the man in the middle.
“Emmett Shaw.” He offered an outstretched hand.
The other man’s grip was firm and steady. “Jethro Barclay.” His deep voice had a bit of a rough edge to it. “I already scoped out the buildings closest to your target location, and the one across the street and one lot over will give me the best view inside.”
He gave a dip of his chin. “I appreciate the assist.”
Jethro’s dark, slightly narrow stare slid to the five others who’d just climbed out of the vehicle behind Emmett. When his gaze returned, he shared intel he’d already gathered.
“I didn’t see anyone out back, but there’s most likely at least one person guarding the door. When I get into position, I’ll have a better idea of the number of bodies in the entrance. Once I can confirm, I’ll relay that information to you and your team.”
“Sounds good,” Emmett agreed, handing their designated sniper an earpiece. “We’ll stay back until we hear from you.”
Jethro put the small, two-way mic in his left ear, giving it a slight twist to secure it in place.
“Real quick,” Emmett continued. “This is Detective Lincoln Boone. He’s here to . . .” He paused before settling on, “Help.”
Truth be told, he wasn’t altogether sure why theD.C. detective had decided to come along. But Boone hadn’t called in his troops, so the guy deserved a little credit for that.
Continuing through the introductions, Emmett went through the rest of the group with haste. “Lucas Mercer’s our medic. You spoke on the phone with Gwen Winslow, our demolitions expert. Draven Brown is Echo’s tactical specialist, and Blake Savage is the team’s technical analyst.”
“Good to meet you all.” Jethro’s rumble ran deep.
