Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Atlas’s Kevlar fit snugly around his chest. He rode shotgun. Rogue was at the wheel, and Viper, Reaper, and Havoc followed them in a separate vehicle.
Clouds shielded part of the moon, making the night even darker. Streetlights blipped past the windshield as they traveled. Music played at a low volume.
Leaving Molly behind had made him sick to his stomach. The trauma of the night Laine and Emmy had been taken would be forever branded in his mind.
“I understand now why you’ve had a stick up your ass since we left Pittsburgh,” Atlas said, breaking the still air in the car.
“The hell is that supposed to mean?”
Atlas lifted a hand in surrender. “I’m sayin’ I understand, asshole.” He sighed. “Leaving Molly reminds me of the night you left me with Laine and Emmy.” Regret churned inside him and mixed with the guilt he’d carried since that night.
The night his best friend almost lost his family—because of him.
“Oh,” Rogue said softly. “Yeah. I think about that day all the time. More now that I’m not there with them.”
His friend jerked his head to face him for a moment, then refocused on the road. “You feel the same leaving Molly?”
Atlas rubbed his thumb over his fingertips. “It’s hard not to. Something happening to Molly might be my karma for what happened to Laine and Emmy.”
“Laine and Emmy are fine.”
“I know. But they almost weren’t.”
“There’s no karma on you, man. It wasn’t your fault. Besides, don’t forget, you almost fucking died, too.”
Atlas’s chest tingled and his leg ached at the memory. He’d never forget it. Because when Rogue should’ve been focused on finding his girlfriend and her daughter, he’d been keeping Atlas alive until help arrived.
“Anyway,” he drawled, not wanting to bring up any more shit. “I get it. It sucks leaving people behind.”
“You’ve fallen for her, haven’t you?” Rogue’s question didn’t carry even a hint of amusement. Just curiosity. Maybe even empathy.
“I like her. A lot. I don’t want anything to happen to her.” It was more than that. So much more. “I’ve only known her two days. Hell, barely that.”
“Two days in battle is a lifetime. And it’s been a battle since the moment we found her.”
Atlas stared out of the window. The scenery had changed. Instead of high-rises, now he saw large industrial buildings, narrower streets, and even fewer streetlights.
“Nothing’s going to happen to Molly—Rex is right here,” Rogue said, as he pulled into a back parking lot a few buildings down from the warehouse. “Harry’s inside and confirmed Rex is there.”
“Doesn’t mean he won’t send someone after her.”
Rogue shifted into park. “I realize that.” He clapped his hand on Atlas’s shoulder. “So let’s make this quick. We both have women we want to get home to.” He withdrew his hand, a muscle jumping at his temple. Amusement swam in his friend’s hazel eyes. “For what it’s worth, I like her.”
Atlas smirked. “Not too much, I hope. Wouldn’t want to have to beat your ass today.”
Rogue barked out a laugh. “I’ve got eyes only for Laine.”
Headlights shone in Atlas’s side-view mirror as the guys pulled in behind him. Moments later their men slid into the back seat.
“Earpiece test,” Reaper said, passing out the bugs.
While waiting for their pizza to arrive back at the hotel, they’d cemented their plan. Atlas and Viper would head to the back exit of the warehouse, which faced an alley.
Harry had confirmed a shipment was coming in now, which meant someone would be at the loading dock. Rogue had also received the code for the front entrance from Harry, which would allow Reaper, Havoc, and him to get in undetected.
Atlas tucked the little device into his ear.
“Test,” Reaper said.
Everyone echoed their response.
“Move out,” Rogue commanded.
Atlas climbed out of the front passenger seat, his AR-15 slung around his chest. A handgun sat at the small of his back, and a knife was strapped snugly to his ankle.
The five of them moved from the parking lot shrouded by sleeping and abandoned buildings. The area was quiet, but that also meant their presence could be easily spotted.
They reached the edge of the lot and Atlas and Viper broke away from the group to cross the street. The other guys turned right, sticking close to the shadows the warehouse provided. Atlas and Viper ducked into the alleyway at the back of the building.
Heat radiated off the asphalt even though the sun had gone down. The air was thick and humid.
Anticipation made his steps light, his breath slow. He couldn’t promise he’d leave Rex unscathed once he got his hands on the man. Rogue wouldn’t like it, but there was no way he was walking away without putting the fear of god into the bastard.
One heart wrenching memory of Molly stained his mind—chained to the wall at that damn house in the jungle wearing a dirty, smelly men’s shirt, bruises discoloring her pretty face, her body thin and dehydrated.
He clenched his weapon. Yeah, there was no fucking way he was turning Rex in without knocking out the bastard’s teeth.
They passed a dumpster, then rounded a corner that led to the rear parking lot. A few cars were parked beneath a streetlight, and a road jetted off from the alley, slithering to the loading dock.
A truck was parked at the dock, and someone held a flashlight while a man rolled a dolly out of the warehouse and up the ramp leading to the back of the truck. Viper jerked his head, and they ducked behind a parked SUV forty feet from the two men.
“See any other guards?” Viper asked.
Atlas studied the dark space beyond the man holding the flashlight. It was too dim to see inside that area of the building. “No.”
Viper spoke into his mic. “We’ve got eyes on the dock. They’re loading right now. One driver and what appears to be one of Rex’s guards. Any more we can expect here?”
“Harry mentioned that only one man was taking care of the load tonight,” Rogue said. “He said they’re short-staffed—thanks to us.” His tone held satisfaction.
“Copy.”
The man wheeled another load into the back of the truck, then hopped down and made his way to the driver’s side. He started the engine and the headlights came on.
White beams swept over the pavement. The truck passed them and drove toward the alley. In a second, the taillights were gone. The guard stood outside the raised loading dock door with a phone to his ear, a gun hanging across his chest. He wore a tight black T-shirt and black cargo pants.
“Move,” Atlas ordered.
He stayed low with Viper on his six, ducking around cars and inching closer to the loading dock. They got to the exterior wall of the building and skimmed along the brick toward the set of stairs that led up to the platform on which the man stood.
“I’ll take him.” Atlas reached for the knife tucked into the holster around his ankle. He yanked the blade from its sheath.
“Hold for Havoc,” Viper said. “Havoc, you got the scrambler?”
“On it.”
The device would disconnect the internet service temporarily and disrupt the camera feed. To anyone inside the building, it would seem as if the connection had simply been lost for a moment. By that time, the team would be in the building.
The guard paced. Pulling the phone away from his ear, he hit a button on his screen. Curses floated from the phone.
“Look,” the guard said impatiently. “You’ve got every right to be pissed, but if you have concerns, you’ve gotta take them up with Rex.”
“I would if he’d answer his damn phone!”
The guard turned his back, and Atlas climbed the cement steps.
“Done,” said Havoc.
Eagerness invaded Atlas as he approached the guard from behind.
“Sure, I’ll tell him.” The guard ended his call and reached to slide his phone into his back pocket.
Atlas leapt forward. He caught the man’s head with his free hand, jerked it back, then swiped the blade over his throat. Blood gushed in a stream. He shoved the man off the platform, and he landed on the cement.
“Let’s go.” Viper was already up the steps. “Someone will notice he’s gone soon.”
Atlas wiped his knife on his pant leg and slid it back in its sheath. Then, with his hands locked on his rifle and aimed ahead of him, he moved inside the building with Viper.
Molly accepted the chamomile tea Wraith had fixed her. She sat at the far end of the couch near the patio door, her legs tucked under her. A sitcom played on the TV, the volume low.
“How long have you known Atlas?”
Wraith took a sip of his coffee, then set the cup on the table between them, taking the accent chair across from her. The patio door was cracked open. A warm, salty breeze stirred the air.
Wraith crossed his ankle over his knee. “Long time. We served t’gether in Afghanistan, then I left the service. Rogue—Roarke, in case you didn’t know—called me up one day ’n said, ‘You’re joinin’ Phantom Ops. Quit whatever job you’re doin’.’”
Molly raised her eyebrows. “And you did?”
He laced his fingers behind his head. “Hell yeah. I was working at my stepdad’s shop in Dallas and that ole bast’rd drove me up the wall.”
“Why’s that?”
“He drinks more’n he thinks.” He gave her a devilish grin. “Plus, Rogue’s offer of ten times my yearly salary was like winnin’ the feckin’ lottery.”
His accent made her grin. “I’m sure they’re lucky to have you.”
“Prolly not.” His face turned serious. “How’re you feeling after last night?”
His question made her tighten her hands around the warm mug. She brought it to her lips and savored the soft, aromatic tea. “A little high-strung, to be honest. My neck’s sore.” She brushed her fingers over her throat.
Wraith firmed his lips. “Lemme know if you want me to get you anything.”
“I’m fine.” All she wanted was—
“I know that what you really want can’t be here right now. He’ll be fine. Don’t worry about Atlas. Guy’s our sharpest shooter.” He winked.
“I’m more worried about how well Rex’s men shoot.”
“Aye. That’s the kicker. You can be the best and . . .” He trailed off. “Ne’r mind. Like I said, he’s a golden boy.”
She chuckled. “I’ll tell him you said that.”
His reassuring grin twisted into one of horror. “I’ll deny it.”
That brought forth a real laugh. “You all are so amusing. I’ll miss hearing you guys fight after all this.”
He cocked his head. “Not sticking around?”
“What, you want me to be your seventh team member?”
Wraith studied her, not taking the bait. “I meant sticking around Atlas.” He sounded protective.
Her cheeks heated. Wraith was quicker than the others gave him credit for.
But if things didn’t work out between Atlas and her, it’d have nothing to do with her wanting to leave him. She couldn’t say that, though.
Rather than engaging in a conversation she wasn’t willing to have with one of Atlas’s closest friends, she reached for the remote. “This one’s getting boring. How about we watch Friends?”