9. Jude
9
JUDE
Five guards down, four more people to go, and there was no point being quiet.
I liked this part of a mission: the stealth was over and everyone knew what was happening. It was like the moment after you came downstairs for Christmas as a kid, the moment of post-restraint when you could finally let your impulses fly and tear into some packages with abandon.
Except we were tearing through the Artemis , mowing down the guards in our way, clearing the craft a few feet at a time as we made our way toward the room near the bow where we’d seen Lilah on the thermal camera.
The yacht had two levels. Rafe had taken the upper level, the one that seemed to be where the staff congregated. Nolan and I were taking the lower level, where they were keeping Lilah.
“Left,” Nolan barked.
I lifted my weapon and fired at a guard who’d appeared in the doorway of one of the rooms.
He fell fast, slumping to the floor in the doorframe.
Six down, three to go, including the one woman besides Lilah who seemed to be on board.
I heard the muffled thump of Rafe’s silencer through my earpiece and knew another man was down.
Rafe’s voice sounded in my ear. “Nighty-night, Captain.”
Nolan and I stepped into each room on the way down the hall — Nolan in the rooms on the right while I took the rooms on the left — clearing each one as we went. I had to force myself to focus on my three-foot world, a concept we’d learned in SEALs training to compartmentalize, to focus on immediate threats instead of what might be farther ahead.
We got closer to Lilah with every room we cleared, and it was hard not to rush forward, to tear the place apart looking for her instead of taking it a step at a time like we’d been trained to do.
Finally we reached the end of the hall and the last room on the left.
Lilah’s room.
Except instead of a closed door, it was wide open.
A quick glance inside revealed an empty bedroom, the sheets disheveled on a full-size bed, a collection of shattered dishes and glassware littering the floor along with what looked like chicken and mashed potatoes.
And then, right under my feet, a long smear of blood.