Chapter 33
Jericho
"Three in the front. Another two in the back and five souls inside," Jersey says when we join the other team two blocks from the address we were given through the IP address controlling the security system.
" There are seven bedrooms ," Casper says through our mics. " From the heat sensors we have, it looks like there's one adult in the basement with a child ."
My skin itches to get inside and tear that motherfucker limb from limb.
"You can't keep me outside," I say to Hemlock when he locks eyes on me.
"I know," he says with a gentle dip of his head that gives me permission to be a part of my son's rescue.
"Thank you," I tell him, knowing what a big deal this is.
"Entry is going to be hard," Lark says. "The house is situated on a hill, and I don't doubt that he's going to have his team take pot shots at everyone who gets close."
"We've put two sharpshooters in place," Hemlock says, placing a tablet on the hood of the SUV. "Here and here."
We all watch as he points to the two spots on the map. We'll have to orient ourselves with our surroundings very quickly, and that can always lead to errors.
"And if we run into another tripwire?" Lark asks.
"I'll take care of the fucking explosives," Nyx says, and I want to wrap my hands around his fucking throat and squeeze for how he acted with Aspen.
The man looks bored leaning against the side of the SUV, somehow a part of the team but also not, if that makes sense. It's like he doesn't have a care in the world, but I wonder if it's because he honestly doesn't care if he sees another day.
Hemlock nods at Nyx, and I have to have the faith in Nyx that our president does. That's my faith in Hemlock, not the man that has an ass kicking coming soon.
"We'll have the guys take the ones out front and in the back," Lark continues. "And then we can—"
"Excuse me!"
We turn to see a feeble old man walking toward us. We chose this location because there's an empty lot, but it still puts us right in the middle of an occupied neighborhood.
"Are you fellas having trouble finding something?"
"We've got it under control," Hemlock says. "If you could go back into your house."
"Are you guys the SWAT team? I called the police last week about that house three doors down."
I don't bother to follow the point of his finger. It's in the opposite direction of where we're headed in a few minutes.
"I warned him before I called," the old man continues. "It's not like I didn't ask him to keep his trash cans off the sidewalk. It shouldn't be any surprise to him when you knock on his door."
"Sir," Nyx says as he stands to his full height.
The old man who has to be at least a foot and a half shorter than Nyx looks up at him, his lip curled like he won't take any shit off a heathen in his little town.
"It'll take more than you, young man," the old man says, standing a few inches taller.
I swear for the first time in my life, I see Nyx's lip twitch as if he's trying to hold back a smile.
"I was a commander of the 9th Amphibious Brigade in Vietnam in sixty-eight," the old man continues. "Don't let my size fool you. My balls are bigger than your head."
"Yes, sir," Nyx says as he lifts the sleeve of his shirt. I'll be damned if he doesn't have the Marine Corps insignia tattooed on his left bicep.
I can't forgive him completely for what he did but knowing he's a fellow Marine changes things a little.
"We'll take care of the guy with the trash can issue, sir," Hemlock says.
The old man nods at him before turning back and heading across the street to his yard.
"I love old people," Lark says with a quick chuckle.
We spend only another couple of minutes going over finer details about positioning before we head in the direction of the house.
The sharpshooters take their shots only a second before we step onto the property, and we have no way of knowing what's going on in the house.
"Five down, four to go," Lark says into the mic. "We have—"
Aro, the guy I'm teamed up with jerks to the side a second before he hisses.
"Fuck."
" What's fuck ?" Hemlock growls into the mic.
"Aro is hit," I say, dragging him behind a tree by his vest.
"Why is it always fucking me?" he growls, holding his arm to his chest.
" Unlucky fucking bastard ," someone else mutters into the mic.
" How bad is it ?" Hound asks. I know he isn't here, but he must be on a motorcycle outside of the house.
"Forearm," I say, helping Aro pull a bandage from his utility pants. "Shot came from the southeast."
" Got him ," someone else says a few breaths later.
"You can go," he says to me.
"You're sure?" I ask, not wanting to leave a man down.
"Go get your son, man," he says after I help him get the bandage wrapped around his arm.
" How are you doing, Aro ?" Hound asks through the mic.
"A lot less pain than getting my fucking leg blown off," he mutters, but despite what he's saying, I can see the pain in his eyes. "Slick is gonna kill me."
Laughter comes through the mics but it only lasts a second.
" Keep moving, Jericho ," Hemlock says.
" Three left ," Lark says. " Keep your eyes open. Two more and Gaines ."
"Thanks, man," I say to Aro before keeping in a crouch and continuing my trek across the yard.
" Two left ," someone else says.
My blood is pumping, and at this point, it's more than fear. It's the realization that the man who has haunted me every time I've looked in the mirror for the last eight years is soon going to die. It's almost like that feeling of waking up on Christmas morning. You don't want to get out of bed because you're too excited but there's also a part of you that understands it may not live up to the expectations.
" It's okay, son ."
My feet carry me faster.
" Where the fuck is he ?" Damien growls.
I hear his voice through someone's mic.
" We're missing one ," someone else says.
" I've got Gaines in the basement with the boy. He's got a device and the boy has what appears to be explosives strapped to his body ."
" Be careful ," Jersey says. " The bomb at location one was very fucking volatile ."
" Where is he ?" Damien growls again.
" He's on his way, motherfucker ," Lark snaps. "Why don't you let the kid go?"
" The last one other than Gaines is down ," Nyx says. " On my way to the basement ."
Knowing I'm safe from gunfire right now, I lower my rifle and haul ass through the house.
Nyx and I meet right at the top of the basement stairs, but he doesn't hesitate to let me go ahead of him.
I lift the nose of my rifle as I inch lower on the staircase.
The basement is huge, the center of the room boasting a rather nice in-ground swimming pool.
I see my son in person for the first time, and I register all of it, the bruise on his cheek and the tear stains accompanying it. His eyes are the exact same color as mine.
"I see your ugly face every time I look in his eyes," Damien says, and I swear the man staggers as he takes a step closer to Eli.
He's holding what I have to assume is the detonator in his hand, his thumb poised over the switch.
"Where's that whore of yours?" he spits. "This is actually better. Killing the two of you will hurt her more than dying along with you."
"Doing that kills you too," Lark says, but I know there's no reasoning with the man.
There will never be a day when he will give up and go to prison. He knew when he staged this whole damn thing that the day we laid eyes on each other was going to be our last.
Grief strikes me for my loss. I'll never get the chance to know my son. I regret spending time with Aspen in silence, rather than making her tell me about every single day of his life since he was born, knowing I would've committed it all to memory so I could take it into the afterlife with me.
"I guess I'll see you all in hell," Damien says, and he pushes the button without hesitation.
I stand a little taller in that moment, knowing this isn't something I want to survive, but there's no boom. There's no rattling of the house above us before it comes crashing down. There's no explosion.
The second Damien looks at the device in his hand, I pull the trigger.
Eli screams as Damien lists to the side, falling into the pool. Red blooms in the water all around him.
"No!" Nyx yells when I rush toward my son. "We got fucking lucky. Let me handle it."
I stop in my tracks, teeth grinding as I watch Nyx circle my son and figure out the best way to dismantle the bomb strapped to my son's chest.
"Hi," I say to him. I keep some distance, but I'm not capable of standing there and not speaking to him. "I just need you to be brave for a few more minutes."
The child swallows as he watches me crouch down a few feet from him.
I focus only on my son. I don't concern myself with what Nyx is doing. It's in his and everyone else's best interest that he does a good job. I'm putting my literal life in his hands, much like all the other guys down here who haven't left.
"My name is Nolan."
"H-he called you L-Luke."
I give him a sad smile. "That was who I told him I was."
"H-he said y-you're my d-daddy."
Fresh tears run down his cheeks.
"Yes," I say.
"Where's my m-momma?"
"She's close," I tell him. "We'll go see her soon. I promise. I can't believe how brave you are. I'm so proud of you."
"Just one more," Nyx says. "There."
As if he's holding a tray of boiling water that will slosh everywhere, I watch as Nyx gently lifts the box from Eli's lap.
He still seems stunned and is unwilling to move until he's given permission. It makes me wonder what he's suffered to keep him so calm in the face of such adversity.
Once the bomb is clear, I don't waste a second scooping him up in my arms. His tiny hands cling to my clothes as I rush up the stairs. I have to get him to safety, and that isn't within a hundred yards of that fucking bomb.
I realize as I rush outside, meeting the cool air, that tears are also running down my face.