“We got this,” she said, and killed the lights in the building.
GREYSTONE
Greystone loweredthe goggles on the helmet, stepped into the hallway, and cleared the area. “Lock it.”
She snapped the bolt into place. “Done,” she said through the comm.
Greystone lived for these missions. Hunting down the world’s worst gave him a deep sense of purpose. He knew Haqazzii had a gun. Might have a kitchen knife. Even so, he wasn’t afraid.
Keenly aware of his surroundings, his senses were on high-alert. Despite the hard floor, he made no sound as he traveled down the hallway. He’d walk forty feet, stop, and listen. Haqazzii would either be lying in wait, ready to pounce, or he’d be on the move himself.
Greystone could clear each of the offices, but he had a plan. His gut told him Haqazzii was hiding, ready to unload Sin’s weapon the second Greystone made his presence known.
But Greystone had lured terrorists out before and he’d do it again. First, he cleared the break room, then he made his way back into the women’s locker room, though he doubted Haqazzii would be there. After clearing that, he did the same in the men’s. Then, he leaned against the cold, tiled wall.
“Austin,” he murmured.
“I’m here.”
“He’s not in either locker room or the break room. Do you think he’s in an office?”
Silence.
“No,” she said. “We forgot to ask if he stole a phone.”
“Fuck me.”
“Sin, did he take a phone?” Caroline asked. “No, Grey’s still looking for him. Grey, he didn’t take a phone.”
Was that a mistake? Had Haqazzii fucked up?
“Austin, I’m out,” Greystone whispered.
He ran through the layout of the building in his mind. And that’s when it hit him. Haqazzii wasn’t hiding in an office, and he wasn’t lurking in a restroom. He hadn’t crawled into one of the built-ins in the rec room either. Sajid Haqazzii was hiding in a location that would give him complete advantage, a sniper waiting to take out the BLACK OPS, one shot at a time.
Moving like the wind, Greystone took off for the kitchen in the residential wing of the building. As he approached, he stealthed over to the doorway and, with his back against the wall, peered into the pitch-black room.
He didn’t know if Haqazzii had stockpiled an arsenal of weapons from the locker room. All he knew was that Haqazzii had a Glock… and that was all he needed to take them out.
With his weapon drawn, he entered the L-shaped kitchen, glanced around the corner at the air conditioner intake duct built into the ceiling.
Blood rushed through his veins.
The oversized door hung askew. Sajid Haqazzii was hiding in the ceiling.
Gotcha.
Grey needed to be right, he needed to be swift, and he needed to be exact.
I got this.
Greystone cupped his hands around his face, creating a tunnel to help carry his voice.
“Sajid,” he whispered before he ducked behind the oversized refrigerator.
Nothing.
He cocked his head, hoping to catch Sajid’s breathing, but silence thundered in his ears.
