Castello pulled off his night-vision goggles and stowed them; when he
got inside the house, he didn’t dare wear them. With them on, all it would take is someone hitting a light switch to blind him. “Anybody down?”
“Not us, Boss.”
“Rock?”
“Nope.”
“Steele?”
“No.”
“Go.” Zack struggled with the man, his face still hidden. Already he had his knife out, only his need to determine if this was a member of the Cartel or a civilian who lived in the house prevented him from drawing the blade across the man’s throat. Castello nodded and disappeared into the house.
“Are ya going to kill me, bro?” The man exploded into action as soon as Castello left them alone.
“Colgan?” Zack was rarely caught by surprise, right now surprise almost got him kneed in the balls. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Colgan didn’t answer with his voice, instead he let his fists do the talking.
Zack fought like a bastard, hands, teeth, knees. Nothing was off limits.
No gentleman’s rules here. “Fucker.” He took a hard punch to the stomach, his vest not offering much protection from the power Colgan put behind it.
Should have doubled the Kevlar, idiot.
“She is coming back with me.” Colgan ducked to avoid the slam of Zack’s foot, his hand grabbing for Zack’s boot. “I have a—”
“I don’t give a shit what you want.” Zack twisted in mid-air to avoid face-planting. “She is family.” In his mind, Axel was already Castello’s, that made Krystal Castello’s to protect.
“—Warrant.” Colgan grunted, pulling a knife Zack remembered only too freaking well. He had gifted the Daniel Winkler fixed-blade to the fucker for saving his ass in Somalia.
“Yeah, don’t give a shit,” In the movies, hand-to-hand combat goes on, keeps moving through the scenes. In reality, fighting this way was rough, dirty and hard fucking work. Both men were breathing hard and huffing after only a few minutes. “You going to stab me, Colgan?” They circled each other, looking for an opening.
“Maybe.” Colgan grunted, stepping back to avoid a headbutt. Zack stumbled on the steps. They were making way too much noise. He pushed Marc hard, shoving his former SEAL Team Six teammate back a couple of
steps, then growled when the man spun around and headed for the trees. Zack pulled his 45 Caliber Compact (M45C) handgun but held his fire, he couldn’t, no not couldn’t, wouldn’t shoot Marc in the back. Both the need for silence and the fact that it was a man he knew as well as he knew himself meant he held back; otherwise, he wouldn’t have hesitated.
“Damn it.”
***
Castello moved through the small house, clearing rooms as he went.
Normally he wouldn’t do this alone, he would have his team right on his six.
He did a cursory search for documents. There were three passports in a desk drawer in the first room; flicking through them, he recognized Krystal’s picture in one so he took them, stuffing them into the cargo pocket of his BDUs.
He heard Steele’s voice in his ear. “Hostages clear.”
Godfuckingdammit!Castello had wanted to be the one to save Axel’s sister, it was illogical, stupid, he shouldn’t give a shit who got her and the kids as long as they got them out. But it did fucking matter.
“Roger.” Castello pushed in the door of the last room, a nun’s habit hung over a chair, the moonlight showing an old woman fast asleep in the bed. A pair of hearing aids on the bedside table explained why she hadn’t heard a thing. He slowly withdrew from the room and pulled the door to the level it had been open to before his arrival.
“Boss?” Sawyer’s voice sounded softly in his ear, “ETA to the exfil?”
“The hostage is pretty shaky, and the kids too small to walk.” Steele told them, “We’re gonna have to carry them out. Nothing serious, we’ll be ready to roll in five minutes.”
