Page 48 of Antonio Miles

I shoved the gun back into the guy’s mouth, harder this time. Might have broken a couple of teeth.

“Tonio. There’s no more information here. All dead means is no confirmation from their end if we need it.”

I looked at Sully. He stared right back. He wasn’t going to back down. The edge of my control wanted to break free, but I held it and eased the gun back.

“Fine.”

Sully held my gaze for a long second. Then he dragged the man out of my grip, set him face down on the curb, and zip-tied his wrists.

I wiped the spit off my face and scanned the street. “Anybody in my way goes down,” I said. I let the fury coat every word. “Once I have Tessa, though, everyone dies.”

Sully nodded. “Understood.”

By the time we neared Éclipse, the city had gone stone silent. Anyone who saw us -- underground or not -- backed off after one look. Denton’s network, the one that had watched us for ten Goddamned weeks, was bleeding out on the curb. Seth must have been managing Nashville’s finest, because, without fail, every time I heard sirens headed in our direction, they were silenced and no one showed.

I took a breath, fished my phone, and called Knight. “What’s their status?”

He was all business. “They took her in a dark blue utility van with a stolen plate. The driver’s ex-military. They’re four minutes from the loading bay at Éclipse. I’m tracking them on traffic cameras all the way. Two cars following as tail sweepers. You want the route?”

“I want all three. You draw me a map, I’ll eliminate every backup.”

Knight sent the info in a text. “I’ll cover your approach with cams.”

“You probably already know, but they’re wiping camera feeds in real time.”

“Yep. Already worked around it. They are not nearly as thorough as they thought they were.”

I hung up and pointed at Kass. “We blitz the van, then take the tails. Everyone dies.”

Kass was bleeding from two places but didn’t seem to notice. “Copy.”

I nodded at his arm. “You good?”

Kass glanced down and shrugged. “Just a scratch. Got another on my outer thigh, but it’s just cosmetic.”

The next intersection held the first sweep car. Hawk and Griffin boxed them, yanked the two men out, and hustled them into the alley. One guy tried to beg for his life. He actually knelt with his fucking hands together like he was praying.

I crouched to meet his eyes. “Think you’re the first one begging tonight?”

He shook like a leaf and had no information. So, I put a bullet in his skull and moved to the next.

The second man tried to run. Griffin caught him with a short right and dropped him cold.

“Want him breathing?” Griffin asked.

“No.”

Griffin, to the fervent pleas of the man, just one in a chain of many enabling a sex trade full of unwilling and expendable women and girls, shot the motherfucker in the throat. I raised an eyebrow. Griffin just shrugged. “Might have wanted an open casket.”

“Nice,” I muttered wryly.

The actual loaded van was harder. The men inside were professionals, unlike the other men in this fucking chain. By the time we hit the loading dock, the van had rolled into the lot. Four men in masks, all armed, swept their area.

We formed a perimeter. Kass, Finch, and Sully moved tight, silent. I watched the driver. He was the one in charge.

I waited until the cargo door opened. I saw the smeared blood on the left panel. Carrie’s touch. My pulse spiked. I hit the driver hard. I yanked him out by the collar and cracked his head into the van frame. He slumped, out cold, blood pouring from the scalp wound.

The men piled out, guns up. Finch shot two. The fourth tried to knife Sully, but Sully caught the blade on his forearm, then ripped the gauge out of the guy’s ear with the crook of his finger. Again, the screams were some of the most satisfying I’d ever heard. I relished every Goddamned note.