Chapter Ten #2
And the retribution has only just begun.
“We’re taking fire,” someone screams over the comms.
Gunfire lights up the night as Cartel soldiers pour out of defensive positions. These aren’t street thugs because they move with military precision, taking cover and returning coordinated fire. They’re former contractors, just like the intel suggested.
A bullet howls past my thigh as I dive behind a concrete barrier, Toxin sliding in beside me. Her Glock comes up smooth as silk, and she squeezes off three quick shots. Through my scope, I watch three Cartel soldiers drop almost like it was a timed dance performance—it’s a beautiful sight.
“I could watch you do that all day,” I chime, unable to keep the admiration out of my voice.
She flashes me a wild grin that’s all teeth and violence. “Save the sweet talk for later, baby. We’ve got work to do.”
Another burst of automatic fire chips concrete above our heads, and we duck, dust above us raining down like a waterfall as we take off running toward the cache. Through my earpiece, I hear the other teams engaging throughout the barge.
“Atomic’s hit!” Dash’s voice comes through strained. “Flesh wound, still mobile.”
“Copy that. Ominous report,” Nycto yells.
“Holy shit, Pres. You need to see what they’ve got in these containers. They’re not just any weapons. It’s a fucking armory. Military-grade everything. Some of this shit shouldn’t even exist outside of classified government programs,” Ominous calls back.
My blood runs cold. If Javier has access to experimental military hardware, this operation just became ten times more critical because he’s going to use these weapons when he plans to take over the government.
“Package it up,” Nycto orders. “Evidence first, then we torch whatever we can’t carry.”
Toxin and I breach the side entrance as two Cartel soldiers round the corner. She moves like Lady Death, her knife sliding between the ribs of the first man before he can even raise his weapon. I put two in the chest of the second, the suppressed shots barely audible over the chaos outside.
“Clear left,” I whisper.
“Clear right,” she responds.
The cache interior is a fucking nightmare of organized violence. Crates upon crates of weapons stacked to the ceiling, all labeled with military designations that make my stomach turn. M4A1 assault rifles, .50 caliber sniper rifles, RPGs, and even what looks like experimental drone technology.
“Jesus Christ,” I mumble under my breath.
“Void, Toxin, I need you on the north side. Brass is pinned down and bleeding bad,” Nycto’s voice crackles through the comm.
My heart races, and I glance at Toxin. We both nod, taking off. “On our way, Pres,” I respond, already moving.
We sprint through the barge, weaving between containers of chaos as gunfire echoes from outside. Through the metal and wood, the gunfight continues outside, and the distinctive pattern of suppressive fire means one of our brothers is trapped.
“There!” Toxin points toward a loading dock where Brass is pressed behind an overturned forklift, blood streaming down his arm as three Cartel soldiers advance on his position.
But there’s a wooden pallet blocking our path.
I don’t think.
I don’t have time to.
The wood explodes outward when I crash through it, splinters bursting out in shards as I roll to absorb the impact, and I bring my Glock up, already tracking targets. Toxin follows a split second later, landing like a fucking cat and immediately engaging the farthest soldier.
But I’m focused on the one advancing on Brass with a machete raised above his head. My Glock kicks back in my hand as I put three rounds center mass into the Cartel bastard. He drops like a stone, the machete clattering harmlessly away.
I veer toward him, Toxin covering me, and bullets stitch the wall behind us. “Brass. Talk to me!” I shout as I reach his position, blood slick on his arm, his face pale.
“I’m good, brother. The forklift barely touched me,” he pants, but it’s easy to see the blood loss is more serious than he’s letting on.
“Bullshit. You’re staying put while we finish this.”
That’s when I hear it, a low, mechanical whining that makes every instinct I have scream danger as drones begin flying overhead.
“All teams, be advised,” Ominous’ voice comes through the comm, tight with urgency. “They’ve got a self-destruct system. Multiple drones are set to detonate throughout the facility. If they trigger them…”
The implication hangs in the air, literally like a death sentence. This place is loaded with enough explosives to level this entire weapons cache, all the people in it, and possibly a few city blocks in East Tampa.
We have to get this shit out of here.
“How long do we have?” Nycto demands.
“Unknown. Could be minutes, could be seconds. Depends on when they decide to hit the damn button.”
I look around at the container currently holding Brass bleeding beside me, then at Toxin engaged with two more soldiers near the water’s edge. The smart play would be to take what evidence we can and get the fuck out.
But I’ve never been smart when it comes to protecting my family.
“Nycto, we need to split up,” I call down the radio. “Half the team secures evidence, half creates a diversion to buy us time.”
“Negative. We stick together,” he growls down the line.
“Pres, with respect, Brass needs medical attention, and Ominous needs time to identify the priority targets. If we all cluster up, we’re sitting ducks when they blow this place. And Pres, if this blows, so does East Tampa, and God knows how far the blast radius will go.”
Silence on the comm for three heartbeats. “Fuck… do it. Toxin, Dash, Nerve, you’re with me on evidence collection and extraction. Void, Atomic, get Brass to the boats and create noise to keep their attention.”
I want to argue.
Every fiber of my being rebels against splitting up from Toxin when bullets are flying and explosives are literally buzzing above our heads to turn this place into a crater.
But Nycto’s right.
It’s the only play that gets everyone out alive and keeps Tampa on the map.
“Copy that,” I respond, hauling Brass to his feet. “Come on, brother. Time to go.” As we move toward the water, I catch Toxin’s eye across the chaos. For just a moment, the violence fades, and it’s just us. Her gaze is fierce, determined, and completely unafraid.
She mouths something I can’t hear over the gunfire, but I read her lips clearly, Come back to me. Then she’s gone, disappearing into the warehouse like a shadow made of death and determination.
“Atomic, status report,” I bark into my comm as we reach the edge of the barge.
“Mobile, but hurting. Took shrapnel to the leg. Fuckers don’t know when to quit.”
Goddammit! Two brothers wounded, explosives ready to turn us all into marine debris, and the love of my life somewhere in that warehouse collecting evidence that could save thousands of lives. Or end them if we don’t get them in the boats before this place goes up in smoke.
Just another Wednesday night with Tampa Defiance.
“Boat Two, this is Void. Coming in hot with wounded. Need immediate extraction.”
“Copy that. Standing by,” Whiskey states, guarding the boats.
As Brass and I make it to the boat, Whiskey helps me get Brass onto the vessel while automatic fire erupts from inside the containers. My heart hammers against my ribs as I spin, listening for Toxin’s voice on the comm, for any sign that she’s okay.
“Evidence secured,” Nycto’s voice finally crackles through. “Multiple crates of experimental weapons, documentation of military corruption, shipping manifests showing distribution across six states. Heading down for extraction. We’re coming in hot!”
“Time to go, Pres,” I urge. “This place is gonna blow.”
“Thirty seconds. Ominous is downloading their computer files.”
Through the warehouse windows, more gunfire explodes as I anxiously wait to see my brothers and my Old Lady make their way back down to us. The woman fights like the devil herself trained her, but even she has limits.
“Movement on the water!” Dash’s voice comes through tight with urgency. “Multiple boats incoming from the east. The Cartel’s bringing reinforcements.”
I didn’t think my blood could turn to ice, but suddenly, I’m feeling very, very fucking frozen.
We’re about to be caught between explosives and a fresh wave of Cartel soldiers with nowhere to fucking run.
“All teams, extract now! Repeat, extract now!” I scream down the comms, needing my woman and brothers to get the fuck out of there.
The container door explodes outward as Nycto, Toxin, Dash, Nerve, Atomic, and Ominous sprint toward the boats. Behind them, continuous gunfire illuminates the air from pursuing soldiers, and beyond that, the running lights of approaching vessels.
Toxin leaps from the barge to our boat, and the other guys are loading all the weapons from the cache into the other boats beside us, just as the first incoming round splashes into the water beside us. I catch Toxin around the waist, hauling her down as bullets whine overhead.
“Go! Go! Go!” Nycto shouts. “Nerve, set off those damn drones.”
“You got it,” Nerve states, working hard on his tablet to hack the Cartel’s own drones.
Our boat engines roar to life, and we pull away from the barge as the facility erupts behind us in a chain of explosions that light up the night sky like the Fourth of fucking July.
The shockwave hits us like a physical blow, and I instinctively cover Toxin with my body before the debris rains down around us, showering us in ash and embers from the chaos we just saved Tampa from.
Panting and coughing from the smoke as I continue to cover Toxin, I smirk, knowing that as the Cartel’s weapons cache burns behind us, we managed to remove enough of their weapons and take them with us, so that when we blew what was left, we didn’t create a natural goddamn disaster.
Only the end of the Cartel’s reign in Tampa.
Checkmate, Javier.
Check-fucking-mate.
When the echoes fade, all that remains is a burning skeleton of twisted metal and concrete, flames reaching toward the stars like accusing fingers.
“Sound off,” Nycto calls out. “Everyone better have fucking made it.”
“Brass, I’m bleeding but breathing.”
“Atomic, present, and pissed off.”
“Dash, I’m all good.”
“Nerve, that was fucking crazy.”
“Ominous, alive, and carrying a fuck-ton of intel and weapons.”
“Whiskey, all good.”
Silence stretches for a heartbeat before I realize everyone’s waiting for me.
“Yeah, I’m here. Toxin and I are…” I look down at the woman pressed against my chest, her face streaked with soot and her eyes blazing with adrenaline. “We’re all good.”
As we race through the darkness toward shore, Nycto checks in to LA for the final transmission of the night.
“L6, this is T4. Mission complete. Couple of injuries, but we are 10/4,” Nycto calls.
Static crackles over the comms as we continue through the water, but then the female voice answers, “Understood, T4. Great job. Get some rest. L6 out.”
Dropping back against the side of the boat, Whiskey takes us home, and I hold Toxin as she grins up at me. My fingers slide through her hair while I stare into her eyes. “You are a fucking badass, you know that?”
She chuckles, shaking her head. “I’m the first female Defiance club member, I have to be a badass, baby. But when we get home, I’m just gonna be your Old Lady, and we’re gonna celebrate this win in a really, really kinky way. Down in the bricking cell.”
I waggle my brows at her, and go to reply, but Brass cuts in first, “I’m bleeding out here, can you guys ease up on trying to kill me with your bullshit?”
Whiskey chuckles, and I grin, holding Toxin tighter, pressing a kiss to her temple. “No can do, brother, you’re gonna have to suffer in silence.”
“Great, you should have left me behind.” Brass groans.
Toxin giggles. “You can join us if you like, I do love a bit of blood play.”
Whiskey groans and Brass shakes his head, clutching to his wound. “Jesus! Whiskey, turn the boat around.” He chuckles under his breath.
And this, right here? This is why we do this.
Why we put our bodies on the line to fight assholes like Javier and his fucked-up Cartel.
Because our brotherhood, our family, is worth everything.
And no one can come in and take this from us, because Defiance will always fight.
No matter the cost.