“Wraith is in position.” a whispered voice comes through our earpieces. “I have eyes on Chad, but no sign of target, sir.”
“Eagle Eye is in position and also reporting no signs of the target.”
“Wait for the others to confirm,” Mal whispers. It feels like an eternity has passed before the next sniper reports in.
“Wolf is in position. I also have eyes on Chad, but no sign of the target, sir.”
“Quiet is in position.” She pauses, so I know the news isn’t good. “Target’s location is unknown.”
My heart stops. Unknown.
“Is he not here?” Brendan cries.
“It’s possible, but I doubt the Hellhounds have enough tech to re-route a location to a police station,” Liv says. “Maybe?—”
“Eagle Eye has eyes on the target,” Eagle Eye says excitedly. “Northeast corner. He’s in a shipping crate four rows in.”
“Can you confirm, Quiet?” Mal asks.
“Sorry, sir. No visual—” she starts.
“Shit! They’re taking an axe to the crate, sir,” Eagle Eye cuts in.
“An axe!” Brendan shouts.
“Those fuckers are so dead,” I growl.
“I don’t have a clean shot,” Eagle Eye says.
“Don’t take the shot,” I order.
“Cutting the power should make them panic and stop attacking the crate,” Mal says, and I nod. “Alright, teams. Cutting the power in three, two, one.”
Liv presses a key, and all the lights go out. Then all hell breaks loose.
“They’re leaving the area, but Chad is staying behind,” Wraith says.
“Keep an eye on him,” Mal orders as we finally start moving toward the building.
I’m so ready to go in there. I need to see him and hold him, but what if he’s not okay?
I’ll burn this place to the ground and myself along with it. I don’t want to live in a world without him.
“Chad’s opened fire on the crate,” Quiet warns.
“Tag. Go,” Mal orders, and I can practically hear the crazy fucker grin. There’s nothing he loves more than fucking shit up. It’s a tense few minutes, but finally, we get to the side doors where my men are stacking up the bodies. There’ll be one hell of a bonfire after this.
“Tag has Chad on the ground, but he’s drawn a lot of attention,” Quiet says, updating us.
“Snipers. Fire at will,” Mal says. All four snipers copy, and the sound of rifles fill the air.
“Is Rory okay, Quiet?” I plead as the rest of my men form up in front of us.
“Not sure. I don’t see any movement from the crate— Wait! Rory just reached out and grabbed Chad’s gun.”
“Oh, thank fuck.” Our group sighs in relief.
“Alpha team. Go,” Mal commands. They break down the door and take positions before we filter in and start shooting.
