Chapter 18
KIT
“On your six.” Wes, aka Wildcard, says quietly, his hand on my shoulder as Ghost does his thing and picks the lock.
“Viper to Cipher, confirm phone jammer is active,” I say low as I watch Ghost click the lock open.
“Copy that. Jammer is working. Calls to emergency services can’t be made.”
I smirk to myself at Cipher’s confirmation that he knew why I was asking.
The last thing we need are cops getting notified while we are in the middle of this. We can deal with the fallout later. Right now, I need to get my girls back.
As soon as Ghost pushes the door open, my gun is raised and we are moving in.
“Heat signatures show one inside the bathroom, two moving around in the living room,” Cipher’s voice rumbles in my earpiece.
“Three in the kitchen. Another three in a small room downstairs, although one is cooling. As well as a couple at the rear of the house. And there are five or six in the rear shed.”
“Copy that,” I whisper, my eyes scanning everything we pass on our way up the passage, our steps barely audible as we go. “Bruiser and Doc, move in.”
“Copy.” Bruiser acknowledges as Wes, Ghost, and I near the cracked door leading into the kitchen.
I lift my hand in a stop gesture, and we still as we wait, our focus on the room we are about to enter, but our senses scanning our surroundings every second.
“Three. Two. Go.”
At Bruiser’s countdown, we burst into the kitchen as quietly as we can, taking the three Serpents by surprise as they bag and weigh cocaine.
I don’t hesitate to pull the trigger, instantly killing the lanky looking Serpent that goes for his gun, while Bruiser coming in from the outside door takes out the guy bagging the drugs, and Wildcard puts two shots into the third guy’s chest, but not before he fucking yells, alerting the house.
Pounding feet on the timber floors indicate the others in the house know something’s up despite us using silencers, and as soon as Ghost goes to move out into the hall, bullets spray the doorway, splintering wood as we take cover.
Lowering to his haunches just inside the door, Ghost locks his gaze with me, pointing to his eyes, and then low in the direction of the shooter, before pointing to me and Wes and then in the other direction, up the hall.
I nod, knowing exactly what he means, and Wes and I get ourselves into position as Ghost holds his hand up before counting down silently by lowering each finger.
Three.
Two.
One.
Ghost throws himself low, out into the hallway, landing on his back as he sprays bullets in the other shooters’ direction, and I don’t even risk a glance that way as Wes and I dash up the passage to the living room with Bruiser on our tail.
Getting low on my haunches, I press my hand to the cracked door and push it open, bullets immediately spraying our way, but since they are aimed high, they don’t hit their mark.
Leaping up, I shoot in the direction of the shooter as I dart into the room, taking cover behind a table as Wildcard follows.
“Who are you?!” a voice bellows from the small room off to the side.
“Step out and I’ll tell you!” I call, and the moment I do, a huge, beefed-up guy leaps up from behind the couch and starts shooting in my direction.
He only gets two shots off before his head whips back, and a stunned look falls across his face as blood starts to pool from the hole now in his forehead thanks to Bruiser, before he tumbles to the floor with a loud thud.
Dashing out from behind the table, I train my gun on the door that the voice came from.
“Come out,” I call. “You have nowhere else to go.”
“Not until you tell me who the fuck you are!” the guy bellows, and given he was being protected by the now dead beefed-up guy, I’m gonna guess the Serpents leader is behind the door.
Snake.
“Cipher to Viper.” Julian’s voice crackles in my ear. “Send Ghost out and we’ll check downstairs where the other heat signatures are.”
My eyes dart to Colt, and I give him a nod before he glides out of the room with a level of silence that sends a chill up my spine.
“Want me to kick the door down?” Bruiser asks, and I consider it for a moment.
We have to assume Snake is armed, which means he’ll have a direct line to shoot Bruiser. However, we’ve done this shit before, so I nod before locking eyes with Wildcard and gesture to Bruiser’s left side.
With my best mate’s eyes trained on me, I point to my hand, arm, and legs, and he nods, knowing I’m telling him to shoot Snake’s limbs so he can’t shoot at us, or try to run. Since Wes and I will have a different angle, my focus will be on the opposite hand, arm and leg as Wes.
This time it’s me who does the silent countdown using my fingers, and the moment I get to one, Bruiser kicks the door with everything he has, and the fucking thing swings open, slamming wide.
Snake isn’t in the doorway like we planned for, but the moment Bruiser’s gun breaches the threshold, bullets from a semiautomatic spray the doorway.
Wes, being on the far side, gets hit, blood spraying from his arm, but the crazy fucker charges straight past Bruiser, into the small bathroom, pulling the trigger and hitting his target.
I’m expecting to walk in and see Snake with a bullet between his eyes, but Wes understood the fucking assignment, shooting at Snake’s arms and one leg to render him fucking useless.
“Fuck, Wildcard. You okay?” I grin as I pass him, and he heaves through the pain of his flesh wounds as he nods.
“Any other job and the fucker would be dead,” Wildcard snarls through gritted teeth, stepping back so I can deal with the prick that shot at us.
Dion Abraham. The Serpents’ ruthless leader, better known as Snake.
“Where are they?” I snarl, and the fucker has the audacity to play dumb.
“Who exactly are you looking for?”
Lurching forward, I jam the barrel of my gun up under his chin, forcing his head back as he hisses in panic.
“You fucking know exactly who I mean. Your men kidnapped my daughter!”
When a menacing smile spreads his lips wide, revealing decaying teeth, I have to fight the urge to smash the butt of my gun against them.
“Kidnapping that little girl was not my order. Carlos did that all on his own, doing a favour for his whore of a cousin,” Snake snaps at me, his lip curling in disdain. “He paid the price for that. With his life.”
“So where the fuck is my little girl?” I jam the gun harder, relishing the hiss of pain that leaves his lips.
“She’s my little girl now.”
The moment those words leave his lips, something inside me fucking snaps, and I squeeze the trigger, painting the tiles with his brain.