Chapter 1 #2
His tone is strained, and I know it’s because this mission is hitting close to home.
It’s that way for all of us, but for a guy who lost his younger sister at the same age this girl is, he’s struggling.
I only hope this has a happier ending than the tragic story that ripped apart what remained of his family after his dad abandoned them.
“We’ll get to her. Everything else clear?”
“Crystal,” he replies.
“Great.” I turn to survey my team. Even dirtied and bloodied there’s no other group of men I would count on having my back. They’re the best of the best. And I’m lucky to serve beside them. “Let’s go find this girl and get her home.”
“On you, Cap,” Sawyer says as he raises his weapon at the ready.
With a final nod, I turn and raise my weapon then head for the stairs. Cowboy was right and both men at the top of the stairs are down, their eyes frozen open, pulses nonexistent.
God, please let her be alive.
Please don’t let us have been too late.
I pause by the door and hold up a fist for my team to pause, too. Pressing my ear to the door to listen for any sounds, I gently close one hand around the handle and try to turn it. The door’s locked, and I hear nothing on the other side.
If she were dead, they wouldn’t have kept the door locked.
Either she’s in there alone—or she’s not. But my hope that we’ll find her alive grows.
Adrenaline pumping through my veins, I shove the anger down to keep a clear head. Details matter in moments like this. Emotions will blur already distorted lines.
Glancing back at my team, I motion for Ryker to come around. He offers me a slight nod and I raise my weapon all the way, training the barrel on the door. Ryker raises a heavy boot and slams it into the door.
It splinters and we move in as one.
It takes less than a heartbeat to get inside, but that heartbeat feels like it takes hours when I see a silver blade pressed to the throat of a trembling teenage girl. Her blue eyes are wide and terrified, her cheeks dirty, trails of tears cutting through the grime.
The man behind her glares at me, dark eyes darting back and forth between me and the rest of my team. He’s sizing us up. Trying to decide if he has a chance. Given that he used to be one of us, he likely knows he doesn’t.
“Come on, Martin, you know the only way you’re walking out of this is if you let her go,” I warn, my weapon trained on him and the girl since I can’t get a clear shot through her given the coward is using her as a shield.
“You’re on the wrong side,” he snaps.
“You’ve got that backward, Bud,” Sawyer comments. “Good guys don’t kidnap terrified teenage girls. No matter the circumstances. I always knew you were a loose cannon.”
“Please,” she whimpers, the word barely audible given her thick accent and the terror in her tone. “Let me go.”
“Shut up!” Martin yells, pulling her tighter against him. She cries out and a bead of crimson drips down the side of her throat where the bite of the blade got her.
I glance at Sawyer. Then Ryker. Then one final look Garrison’s way.
Their gazes say the same thing I’m thinking: Martin is going to kill her as soon as he comes to the understanding that he’s not leaving here a free man. He knows he’s going down and he’ll take her with him just to cause as much damage as he can.
Something I can’t allow.
“It’s going to be okay,” I tell the girl. “Okay?”
Her eyes widen, but she takes a deep breath.
I squeeze the trigger.
The gunshot is deafening in this small room, and the girl screams in pain as the bullet rips through the meat of her shoulder and slams into her abductor. Martin releases her and stumbles backward. Both Ryker and Sawyer move in on him while I rush for the girl.
Garrison is already getting his med kit ready to go while I lay my weapon aside and apply pressure.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I had no choice.”
“I—I know,” she whimpers. Tears stream down her face. “My dad. I want my dad. Can I go home now?” she whimpers.
“Absolutely,” I reply.
“Got the quick clot,” Garrison says.
“She okay?” Cowboy asks through my coms.
“Yeah. Bullet wound to the shoulder. Make the call.”
“They’re already on their way,” he replies. “I’m coming in.”
I tear a larger hole in her shirt so I can access her shoulder, then flush it with saline. She cries out and squirms, but Garrison takes her hand in his.
“Squeeze, okay?” he tells her. “You’re doing so good. So brave.”
Moving as fast as I can to ensure she doesn’t bleed out, I fill the wound with gauze, packing it as tightly as I can. I hate that I caused her pain. But a bullet to the shoulder, with a clean exit, is a lot better than what Martin would have done.
Cowboy comes rushing in right as I’m finished with the front of her injury.
His hazel eyes narrow on her, nostrils flaring in anger when he gets a look at the guy Ryker is currently detaining.
“You guys have no idea what you just did! You kicked a hornet’s nest! They’ll make you disappear, and you’ll never see the light of day again!” Martin yells. He’s always been a loose cannon, but I never would have picture him taking the terrorist route.
I ignore his threats, focusing only on the girl. “I’m going to gently roll you to your side, okay? So I can get the exit wound.”
She nods.
Blood pools beneath her, slower now that I’ve got one part of the injury packed. Gently, I roll her over, feeling terrible when she hisses in pain.
“She’s losing consciousness,” Garrison warns.
“Shock. Stay with us, Charlotte,” I say urgently as I pack her exit wound. “Wrap,” I reach out a hand and Cowboy slams a wrap into it. Placing the end on her entry wound, I wrap her shoulder as best I can given the awkward location.
Injury packed and wrapped, I gently lay her back then stand and turn my attention to the guy who’d been holding her. His familiar face is one I’d honestly hoped to never see again.
“Martin Shaw.” I shake my head. “You’ve got that backward on the hornet’s nest. You should have left the girl alone.”
“This isn’t over,” Martin warns again, a sadistic smile on his face. “You have no idea what you just stepped in.”
“That’s what they all say,” I reply as the door opens and four men wearing black tactical uniforms rush in, weapons drawn. When they see that we’ve got it covered, they lower them and two rip Martin from the ground.
He’s rushed out of the room and two medics load the unconscious teen onto a stretcher, then carry her out.
As they’re leaving the room, our handler, Brenda Leroy strolls in wearing black slacks, tall heels, and a black suit jacket.
Her dark hair is slicked down, so shiny you can practically see your reflection.
Her red lips are flattened in a tight, disapproving line. “A lot of bodies out there, Knox,” she says. “You get a little trigger happy?”
“Actually, that was me,” Cowboy replies, tone sharp as a razor. “And there was no way to get to the girl without dropping them. You vastly underestimated the fire power here. That or you just decided not to clue us in.”
Her disapproving look isn’t unfamiliar. “You know that I am only as good as the intel I get. I was unaware of the amount of people Shaw managed to get on his side. Apparently, the corruption ran deeper than we thought.”
“He claims we kicked a hornet’s nest,” I tell her. “My guess is this is only the tip of that iceberg.” Crossing both arms, I glare back at her.
We’ve known Brenda for years. Ever since our last official op as Navy SEALs six years ago went sideways and she offered us off-books contracts or prison cells.
Obviously, there wasn’t much of a choice there.
“Who shot the girl?”
“I did,” I say, earning an arched brow. “It was that or Shaw was going to kill her.”
“We’ll get his bullet hole patched up and find out who he’s working for. Until then, lay low. This isn’t going to be a fun one to explain.”
“Feel free to cut us loose,” Cowboy replies coldly.
“You’re cut loose when I say you are,” she snaps. “And I’m not done with you just yet.”
“Prison’s looking pretty good these days,” Sawyer comments dryly.
“Given that you just put a bullet hole in the daughter of a French diplomat, I wouldn’t rule it out just yet,” Brenda replies. “Now, go before I have to include your names in my paperwork. I’ll be in touch with your next assignment,” she adds as I pass by.
I don’t miss the irritated glance she throws my way right before she starts barking orders at the men who’d come in to start cleaning up the mess.
Tomorrow there will be no evidence of anything that happened here.
They’ll destroy this place, creating a new black site somewhere else unlisted to replace it. The only reason we haven’t fought our way out from beneath her thumb is because we do good work. My team and I hunt rogue government agents and military operators.
We bring them to justice before too much damage can be done.
And today, we saved the life of an innocent seventeen-year-old.
So, despite the way Brenda makes my skin crawl, I’ll keep pushing forward until the day she becomes a rogue agent in need of justice that I will happily deliver.