“Rhys,” Stryker said. “We need to enter through the basement.”
“Copy that,” Rhys replied.
Stryker and Sin made their way into the backyard. Within seconds, Sin had picked the lock on the basement door and all three men slipped inside. A man slept on the sofa. IDware confirmed him as one of the five gang members.
Rhys and Sin split up to clear the lower level.
Stryker stood over the sleeping man. His eyes fluttered open. He bolted upright, reached for his sidearm—
Pop! Pop!
Two bullets to his head. He slumped forward. Stryker pushed him backwards and shot him in the heart.
“Two back here,” Sin whispered into his comm.
“Confirmed gang members?” Stryker replied.
Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!
“Confirmed,” Sin replied. “Both down.”
“We can take out the guard on the first floor,” Stryker said. “Rhys, you can stay with Rowdy while we cover the top floor.”
The basement door flew open. Two men came running down the dark stairs and started firing.BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!
Both of Rowdy’s men dropped. Rhys was writhing on the floor. “Brooks, Rhys is down,” Stryker said.
“On my way,” Brooks replied.
Rhys winced. “It’s my leg.”
“Get him outta here,” Stryker said to Sin.
Sin helped Rhys stand, then wrapped his arm around Rhys’s waist and hurried him out of the house. Outright fury sent Stryker bolting up the stairs three at a time. The first floor was clear. He continued to the top floor. Cleared the first bedroom, then the bathroom.
Anxious whispers were coming from the back bedroom. With his handgun at the ready, Stryker entered the dark room. Two women were huddled in the corner, but Rowdy and his guard weren’t there. He hurried out and strode toward the only room he hadn’t checked.
Just as he approached the entryway, Rowdy’s guard appeared, raised his weapon—
Pop! Pop! Pop!
Stryker hit him once in the head, twice in the chest. The guard dropped. The room was empty, but Stryker heard someone breathing in the closet.It’s gotta be Rowdy.
“Rhys is secure,” Sin said into Stryker’s comm. “I’m coming up.”
“At least two women in the back bedroom,” Stryker whispered, covering his mouth with his hand. “Assume they’re armed.”
Stryker opened the closet door. Rowdy aimed his gun at Stryker’s head.
Pop!
Stryker shot the pistol out of his hand and kicked the weapon out of reach. Then, he raised his goggles and stared into the eyes of one of the most wanted men in America.
“You’re never gonna make it out alive,” Rowdy growled.
“Neither are you,” Stryker bit out. He pulled out his phone and showed Rowdy the screen. “This is the prosecutor who put you away twenty years ago. Amanda Truman. Remember her?”
