Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
The setting sun sat low over the horizon, painting the evening sky a bruised iron. The ocean seethed against the coastline, the gale-force wind whipping rain across the surging water.
Buck turned off the highway a mile back from the abandoned cannery, parking his truck on an old dirt road that paralleled the shoreline, ending at the edge of the factory property.
Bodie and Dalton pulled in behind him, lights cutting circles through the encroaching dark before winking off, leaving an eerie void in the gray light.
Five miles behind them, completely off Grieves’ radar, Greer and a heavily armed federal tactical team waited in an empty warehouse, holding a hard perimeter in case Grieves slipped out.
Raven’s Watch had been placed on standby, with Foster’s team staged for an emergency medical run within the next few hours.
Buck glanced over at Tierney. She’d barely spoken since the call with Grieves, the heavy silence telling him everything he needed to know.
He placed his hand over hers. “Are you sure you’re up for this? No one would blame you if facing him was asking too much.”
She drew in a deep breath, turning to face him. “I’ve allowed him to rule the last eighteen months of my life. It’s time I took that back.”
“That’s my girl.” He grinned when she rolled her eyes. “Just, don’t be a hero. You’ve got an entire team backing you up. No need to go sacrificing yourself for the greater good.”
“I won’t, if you won’t.”
Buck cringed inwardly. He should have seen that coming. “I’ll try. But if he threatens you…”
He’d do whatever was necessary because there wasn’t a future, a life worth living, without her in it.
Tierney opened her mouth, probably to call him out, then shut it, leaning over to plant a quick kiss on his lips. It ended far too soon, the creaking hinges sounding through the cab as she jumped out, joined the rest of Buck’s team at the front of the trucks.
Bodie held out a map, tracing the route once before waving Tierney ahead.
She glanced over at Buck, nodded, then took off, moving with the fluid grace of a seasoned tracker.
He doublechecked her gear as she headed into the night.
Like the rest of them, she was loaded for bear, with extra mags and frags strapped to her vest. Any hint of panic from the meeting had vanished, replaced by a cold fury that tightened his chest.
This was the MI6 version she’d claimed she’d lost. That Grieves had broken. And Buck knew, she wouldn’t settle for anything less than Grieves’ full surrender.
A mix of brine and earth filled the air as Tierney veered onto the salt-burned seagrass lining the shore, effortlessly choosing the best line as if she’d walked the route a thousand times.
She kept the pace fast, but controlled, weaving them through a series of large boulders and skeletal shipwrecks before gaining a bit of elevation, snaking along the embankment as she closed in on the factory.
Buck glanced over at Avery, her lithe form fading in and out of the blowing grass. She was risking her badge, her career, going in off-the-books, but she hadn’t hesitated, just handed her badge to Greer and suited up.
Dalton obviously had his own thoughts regarding her presence, staying closer than usual as they crossed the last quarter mile, crouched along the boundary. They formed a small line, scanning the open pavement as the last rays of warm light faded to dusk.
Before them, the factory spread out in a sprawling nightmare of industrial decay.
Three, massive processing buildings towered against the indigo sky, the units interconnected by a spiderweb of rusted, open-air catwalks and enclosed conveyor tubes.
To their left, a rotting dock jutted into the crashing waves, one of the boards lifting off the beams, vanishing into the black water with the next rolling breaker.
Across the asphalt, dozens of oversized, circular brine tanks sat in various stages of decomposition, flakes of rusted iron dancing across the pavement in the gusting breeze.
Buck raised his scope, searched the grounds before shaking his head.
“Thermals are going to be garbage inside the buildings. Too much ambient heat trapped in the old insulation, with the metal jacking up the readings. And those brine tanks are radiating heat from years of sludge brewing inside. We’re essentially going in blind. ”
Bodie inched forward, still scanning the growing shadows. “No way we can move as a unified front and not attract every damn merc in there. Not if Grieves has CCTV and sensors wired throughout the units. Better to split into pairs, attack multiple fronts at once.”
He pointed to the first building. “Buck. Tierney. You’re Alpha team.
You’ll take the main processing floor. Try to make your way to Wade so Buck can disarm whatever Grieves wired to Wade’s chest. Dalton.
Avery. You’re Bravo. We need you on the upper catwalks providing overwatch and clearing out any sniper nests you can find.
There’s bound to be at least two assholes hiding up high. Find and eliminate them.”
He moved over to where the old office had been stationed.
“Nick. Sloane. You’re Charlie. We’re counting on you to flank through the utility corridors — get a direct line to the old junction boxes so Sloane can work her magic.
Map out whatever closed-loop surveillance Grieves installed.
Blind him. Rowan and I will clear the primary loading bay.
Keep the exit secure so there’s an open line for medical extraction once he’s freed.
” He patted down his vest, then gave Rowan’s a once over.
“Any questions?” He waved them ahead. “Remember, lives first. Everyone comes home. We can track Grieves down again later. But as good as she is, even Rowan can’t raise the dead. ”
Buck held Tierney’s gaze, memorizing the symmetrical lines of her face.
The way she chewed on her bottom lip before she reined in the voices, muzzled them.
He checked their route one last time with his scope, then moved out, quickstepping behind her as she crossed the open stretch of asphalt, slipping between the towering, rusted brine tanks.
The rain that had been building all day, kicked in full force, hammering against the corrugated metal, drowning out the roar of the ocean as it rose along the shore, crashing into the rotting dock.
The wind whistled through the metal struts, picking up dust and paint chips, swirling them across the pavement as Tierney stopped at the edge of the vats, mapped out the next sprint to the main entrance.
A flicker of movement caught his eye, and he stopped Tierney with an arm across her chest before he went to one knee, traced the nearly invisible monofilament strung between the last tank and the main building, the thin wire fluttering in the wind.
It led to a concealed claymore, an LED blinking green across the top.
Buck touched the line, shaking his head.
“The way Grieves strung this sends the bulk of the blast force away from the trip line. This isn’t designed to kill.
It’s a variation on my perimeter traps. He’s hoping we’ll set one off, show him which quadrant we breached.
Though, I’m sure we’ll show up on one of his cameras sooner or later.
” He stepped over it. “We’ll leave it for now. ”
Tierney broke into a run, veered toward a rusted, half-open loading bay door on the side of the main processing building. She stopped at the threshold, let Buck give it a quick once-over, before stepping inside, pressing against the adjoining wall.
The stench hit them full force, a toxic mix of ammonia, wet rust, and decades of rotten fish.
Green algae bloomed from the cracks in the concrete floor, the damp surface riddled with puddles.
Above, jagged gray light sliced through the broken skylights, as water plinked against a hollow metal vat, the erratic rhythm scratching at his nerves.
Buck listened for movement, the combined noise echoing through the space. “This place is an acoustic nightmare. We’d be lucky to hear one of Grieves’ men stomp across the room.”
She gagged, covering her mouth and nose with the neckline of her shirt. “At least, it works both ways. Assuming the air in here doesn’t kill us, first.” She pointed across the room. “It the schematics Sloane downloaded are right, Wade’s probably down that hallway toward the center of the building.”
“I’ve got—”
A click cut him off, Dalton’s intermittent voice crackling over their comms. “Alpha… Bravo’s… upper catwalks. You’ve… movement coming... Two...”
Buck tapped his earpiece. Sloane had warned them that between the massive amount of concrete and metal, the comms would likely be compromised. Especially if Grieves added jamming tech to the mix.
Tierney ducked behind a shattered conveyor belt, crouching beside Buck as he scoured the shadows, searching for a hint of movement. A crackle of static drifted in from outside, what sounded like footsteps blending in with the echoed noise.
They waited, breath held, weapons at the ready, when two mercs wavered into view wearing heavily plated tactical gear with suppressed carbines and night-vision hanging around their necks.
They stopped just shy of committing to the room, sweeping the area, staring at where Buck and Tierney were hiding for several seconds before inching inside.
One of the men reached for his goggles, signaling he’d clear the room before moving on.
Buck held a finger to his mouth, motioned to the other side of the conveyor as he removed his knife, readying it.
Tierney nodded, notching her rifle into the crook of her shoulder, sighting the guy as Buck scooted underneath the belt, crossing the short space to the far wall.
He grabbed a stray hex nut off the floor, waiting until the men took a few more steps inside before tossing it off to the right. It clattered across the floor, the metallic ping snapping their attention toward the door.
Tierney rose from behind the conveyor, finger caressing the trigger, muzzle pointed at the lead man as he turned, looked directly at her.
The rifle coughed twice, the dull thuts cutting through the dripping water as the guy’s head jerked back, both rounds shattering his goggles — toppling him backwards.
His buddy turned, rifle still lifting, gaze searching the shadows to find his mark as Buck surged forward, barreling into him before he’d zeroed in on Tierney.
No prolonged fight. No jostling for position. Just a lunging stab under the asshole’s Kevlar collar, Buck’s other hand across his mouth. The guy’s eyes bulged wide, body rounding inward before he slowly sank to the floor, Buck bracing his weight.
Two down in five seconds flat.
He wrapped his hands around the man’s chest, dragged him over to an empty vat as Tierney hauled the other. He patted the guy down, pausing when he saw a thick, insulated wire running from his radio through a slit in his armor.
A voice shouted inside Buck’s head, that wire dropping his stomach.
He checked their six, then ripped the guy’s vest off, tracing the line under the merc’s shirt to a unit strapped around his chest. A green LED flickered erratically on the side of the unit, pulsing on and off before fading into a solid red glow.
A shrill, flatline tone sounded over the radio, the beep echoed a second later by the guy Tierney had dropped.
Buck pounded the concrete. “Shit.”
Tierney looked from the men over to him. “What? What is that?”
“It’s a fucking wrench in our plan.” He tugged the unit free.
He’d only ever seen a setup like this once, and it had ended poorly.
“This is a very unique dead-man switch that sends a continuous biometric signal to a central receiver. Whenever the signal gets interrupted, the relay activates a failsafe protocol, and the timer on Wade’s chest accelerates. ”
She frowned, glancing at the two dead men, brows furrowed, her pulse thrashing beneath her skin. She rolled her guy over, dug into his vest, revealing an identical unit, the crimson glow illuminating the man’s pale skin. “If they’re all wired, and we kill them…”
“We’ll kill Wade.”
“Jesus, what—”
She cut off when a loud horn blared from somewhere deep inside the plant, the noise vibrating the cracked glass barely holding together on the skylights. Above them, a red strobe light flashed twice, lighting up the darkness before cutting off, the lingering tone still rattling the panes.
Buck grunted. “I’ll give Grieves this much. He’s definitely got a flair for the dramatic. And now he knows that, not only are we already on the board, we just took out two of his players. I doubt we’ll be able to surprise the rest.”
He tapped his comms, calling out to his teammates, but only empty air answered back. “And there go the jammers.”
“This is bad.”
Bad was an understatement.
Six heavily armed, tactically trained killers moving through the dark with orders to shoot on sight. And Buck’s team had to fight them with both hands tied behind their backs.
But nothing terrified him more than the radio silence buzzing in his ear.
Because Bodie, Dalton, and Nick didn’t know the rules had changed. And they were still hunting to kill.