Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Peyton
I owe Aisling a huge-ass raise and an all-expense-paid vacation.
Peyton just hoped they both made it through to the other side of this operation for him to make good on that as he watched her go through her last-minute checks before they all moved out, ensuring everyone had left all personal electronics behind and shut off.
Two people were staying behind at the warehouse to guard it, or to help the support team if they needed.
Frankly, Peyton was shitting-bricks terrified, because he’d never been through anything like this before. Not even the Seguras’ attack in Idaho lived up to this.
A majority of the volunteers were either veterans or had paramilitary training. Nearly all of them were Enforcers or the equivalent for their packs. A few of them were Pack Alphas, or leaders of their shifter clans.
Peyton felt woefully inadequate next to all of them, even after surviving his experience.
He rode in the lead vehicle with Aisling, Jake, and others. As they approached the border crossing, his stomach twisted in knots.
But the guards at the crossing all smiled and waved when their driver said the code phrase, as if the group were old friends of theirs. And as the last group peeled off to remain behind until they would fall back to the exit location, Peyton couldn’t believe how easily that went.
“Now I’m really fucking worried,” he said to Aisling.
She grinned, a nearly feral gleam in her eyes. “Because it went too fuckin’ easy, right?”
He nodded.
“Good. If yer pucker factor wasn’t at least an eleven on a one-to-ten scale, I’d be worried about ye, an’ I’da left ye back at the crossin’ wi’ the others.”
Lowri and Aaron were also riding in their vehicle, and Peyton felt his Enforcer’s glare burning a hole in the back of his skull.
Peyton turned to look at him. “I know you’re not happy with me for letting her come, but focus on the mission, not on her. She can handle herself. I wouldn’t have let her come if I didn’t think she could handle it, and Aisling definitely wouldn’t have signed off on her.”
“Thank you!” Lowri said, playfully poking Aaron’s arm. “Listen to the boss man, babe.”
He glowered. “No offense, sir, but you can respectfully go fuck yourself. You, too, Aisling.”
Peyton chuckled. “Fair enough.”
Aisling barked a laugh. “Yer a lightweight at insults, Aaron.”
Not only had Aisling evaluated Lowri’s skills, but Peyton had also spoken with Duncan, since he’d arrived on-site at the cabin and witnessed the aftermath of her vicious defense of her family.
If anything, Peyton was more worried about Aaron keeping his head on straight. Lowri was obviously mission-focused.
When the complex came into view, Aisling spoke into her mic. “Target in sight. Mission is go.”
They rolled up to the front gate, and thirty seconds later, just as with the border guards, the man on duty opened it and smiled, waving them all in before running on ahead to activate his fellow guards.
Peyton held back while Aisling and the demolition team, along with another small team including Jake and a Prime, headed down the stairwell, the security code they’d been given by the personnel allowing them full access.
Peyton nervously waited with the others up top, all of them jumping when, five minutes later, the comms tower went dark.
From across the compound, he heard, “Fire in the hole!” and barely had time to cover his ears before the small blast destroyed their transmitter and its backup generator.
The elevator doors slid open. Aisling stood there, waving them in. “Come on. Shift it! Ye can take the stairs, too. It’s clear.”
Downstairs was already a scene of bloody chaos. Most of the lab personnel sat on the floor, hands on their head. Four lay facedown, dead, pools of blood spreading beneath them.
On the far side of the main space that the elevator opened into, Peyton spotted three lab techs sitting on a man who struggled and yelled at them in what sounded like Russian. Peyton didn’t see the other Prime who’d entered before him and assumed he’d moved deeper into the complex.
Peyton ran over and touched the struggling man’s shoulder and ordered him to sleep in Russian.
The man immediately went limp.
Thank god Aisling thought to have Jake teach us a few words.
Peyton then commanded the three lab workers who’d subdued him to return to their ready position, on their asses, hands on heads, before he continued deeper to follow Aisling.
“This place is a fuckin’ rabbit warren,” she muttered as she cleared several rooms in quick succession as they passed the doorways. Several of them were offices, one of which looked like a break room, and another door that was locked.
“Entry here!” she called out, and two of their men rushed over with prybars and made fast work of the door of what was a janitorial closet.
Peyton stayed on her tail, losing sight of Aaron and Lowri as they joined the team looking for computers and other records to retrieve.
When they reached the end of that corridor, they found a locked door with a keypad.
She whistled to the team, who focused on her. She motioned for Peyton to move aside. As the team trained their weapons on the door, she punched in the security override code and the lock blipped green and opened.
As they made entry, they yelled the command in Russian for everyone to drop, but then Peyton heard an older man screaming in outrage.
“Peyton!” she called out.
Peyton hurried in and saw Aisling holding a man at gunpoint. He looked like he was in his seventies. He wore scrubs, was barefoot, and from the way his hair stuck up, plus the small bunk behind him that looked like he’d just jumped out of it, Peyton suspected they’d awakened him.
Peyton grabbed his arm and ordered him to calm down and obey. “English?” he asked, and the man nodded. “Are you in charge here?”
Fear filled his face. “Who are you?”
Aisling jabbed the muzzle of her carbine into his chest. “That wasn’t what he asked, ye feckin’ twat.”
“Y-yes, I’m in charge.”
“Of this entire lab?” Peyton asked. “Of the research?”
The man nodded. “Yes.”
She looked at Peyton. “Take him and have him give ye the grand tour.” They joined the others.
From that point on, it was orderly chaos filled with ripping out hard drives, confiscating laptops, and having the man lead them to all the holding cells, including a separate wing in a secure section they’d received little details about.
They also took his keycard and codes so they could access all the rooms.
Five more techs were shot before they could be subdued, but twenty minutes after Aisling and her team made entry, they were already carrying out subdued hostages.
Peyton handed the doctor off to one of the other Primes. “He’s in charge. He goes. No matter how tempting it is to rip his throat out, keep him alive. All other personnel get liquidated.”
The Prime nodded and curled his lips at the guy, baring his fangs and making the doctor cringe in fear. “Just promise I get a chance at him before you skin him.”
“That’s already a long fucking line,” Peyton said. “Hold him down here, at the stairwell door, in case we need him for something. You stay on him.”
The guy grabbed the scientist by the scruff of the neck and dragged him away.
“Peyton!” Lowri called out.
He turned. “Yeah?”
“We need Jake over here,” she said, waving from a doorway on the other side of the main room. “This looks like the main lab area. There’s a lot of stuff, but most of it’s in Russian.”
“Jake!” he yelled, and the man turned, holding his hand up where he stood on the far end of the room.
“You’re with Lowri and Aaron,” he said, pointing.
As they headed off, Peyton made his way down to the secure area where they were bringing out hostages.
“How many so far?” he asked the woman in charge of coordinating that.
She looked grim. “That we can bring home?”
“Shit. Yeah.”
“Ten so far, all adolescents. We haven’t opened all of the cells either, but we’ve already found five we need to let go if they can’t communicate they want rescue. They’re… bad. They wouldn’t survive the evac anyway.”
“Okay.” He patted her shoulder, giving her a quick, silent Prime pep talk to bolster her reserve, and headed deeper.
One of the team members would take DNA samples from and pictures of the people they had to leave behind in hopes of maybe identifying them and contacting their families to let them know their fates.
They hadn’t made it to the far end of the first wing of cells yet, and they had only cleared maybe a quarter of the cells so far.
Then Peyton made the mistake of looking inside one cell, where they were leaving the occupant behind, and he wished he hadn’t.
A Prime had already told them to sleep, but the empty ketamine syringe on the floor had added extra insurance to the person’s relief.
Peyton couldn’t tell if they were male or female, and they had no arms or legs.
Or eyes. Or…
Well, nothing resembling a face except nostrils and an opening that was their mouth.
Their hair was completely gone, and an ugly scar on their throat resembled a tracheotomy scar, but Peyton had a suspicion they’d undergone an operation to destroy their vocal cords and silence them.
Their body was a cruel, twisted topographical map of deliberate scars and wounds he suspected resulted from tests on how well they could heal.
They were too perfectly shaped, and too numerous, to be random.
Peyton turned away and gave selfish thanks that had not been his fate.
Then he heard people yelling—screaming—from the far end of that wing.
Not their people.
Their team was removing an unconscious woman from a small cell. Across from hers, a man raged incoherently, screaming as he pounded against his door, sounding like he was throwing his full weight against it.
Peyton exchanged a look with another Prime. “Who’s got the jab stick?”
The Prime called out for someone.