Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Rocky
Icrouched behind a rusted shipping container outside the old copper mill, my breath fogging in the chilled evening air.
Twilight painted the sky in darkening purple and blue, providing just enough cover for our approach.
My team hugged the shadows. Six of Vittorio's best operators and four patched members from Bound in Blood had insisted on joining my group.
Across the compound, Ghost and Jack positioned their team at the opposite entrance, waiting for my signal.
My heart hammered against my ribs, not from fear but from knowing what waited inside.
These girls probably believed nobody cared enough to come for them. Or that no one could ever find them.
"Two minutes," I whispered into my comm, receiving confirmations from both teams. The warehouse loomed before us, concrete and corrugated metal weathered by decades of rain and neglect.
By comparison, dozens of security lights cast harsh shadows across the yard, creating pools of darkness perfect for our approach.
How anyone could believe this place housed something worthy of security lights amazed me.
Marcus nodded at me from his position, checking his rifle one last time.
He'd insisted on coming despite Vittorio wanting him to coordinate from a distance.
"I want these motherfuckers to see my face before they die," he'd said during our final briefing. “They get up close and personal with defenseless girls. I’m gettin’ up close and personal with them.” The four Bound in Blood members looked tense but ready, their expressions grim.
The radio crackled from the earwig I wore. "Ready on our end," Ghost's voice came through, tight with barely controlled fury.
I gave the command. “Go.”
We flowed from our hiding spots like shadows, splitting into pre-assigned groups. Two of Vittorio's men headed for the back entrance while Marcus led another pair toward a side door. My team approached the main entrance, our footsteps silent against the gravel.
I pressed my back against the wall beside the door. “Ready on three, two, one, go.” We breached simultaneously, the sound of splintering wood and shattering glass echoing across the compound as all three entry points gave way under our assault.
The warehouse interior hit my senses like a physical blow. The stench of unwashed bodies, human waste, and fear overpowering in its intensity. Metal clanged as doors on the opposite side burst open, Ghost and Jack's team flooding in with precision that spoke of countless operations.
"Clear left," I called, sweeping my weapon across the open space as we pushed forward.
My stomach turned as I registered what we faced.
Several shipping containers had been converted into makeshift cells, their metal walls replaced with bars on one side to create large cages.
Inside, young women huddled together on bare metal floors, some dressed in filthy clothes, others wearing nothing but thin shifts that barely covered them.
Their faces showed varying degrees of terror, confusion, and the vacant stare of heavy sedation.
"Jesus Christ," Bug muttered beside me, his voice nearly breaking at the sight of a girl I thought looked quite a bit younger than thirteen cowering in a corner, her arms wrapped around her knees.
Movement registered in my peripheral vision. "On the left!" I shouted as a door at the far end burst open, revealing four Copperhead guards armed with semi-automatic rifles. They opened fire immediately, bullets pinging off metal and concrete around us.
"Get down!" I pushed Bug toward cover as I returned fire, my first shot catching a guard in the shoulder, spinning him around and he fell to the floor. The warehouse erupted into chaos, muzzle flashes illuminating terrified faces behind bars as we exchanged fire with the Copperheads.
I rolled behind a support column, bullets chipping concrete inches from my head. A quick glance showed Marcus and his team pinned down by gunfire from an elevated office. The girls screamed, some covering their ears, others too shocked to react.
"Cover me!" I called to Bug, who nodded and let loose a barrage of suppressing fire.
I sprinted low across the open space, closing the distance to the nearest guard who pivoted toward me, his rifle tracking but I’d gotten too close before he saw me.
I lunged for him, driving my forearm into his throat with crushing force.
His eyes bulged as his windpipe collapsed, weapon clattering to the ground as he clutched at his neck.
A second guard rounded a stack of crates, firing wildly. I dropped to one knee, pulling my gun. My shot hit him center mass. He stumbled backward but kept coming, his body armor catching the round. My next shot found his face, blood spraying across the concrete wall behind him.
"Rocky, on your six!" Marcus shouted.
I spun, catching the wrist of a third guard as he swung his rifle toward me. The fine bones snapped under pressure, his scream cut short as I drove my knee into his belly. His weapon clattered uselessly to the floor as he doubled over. I finished him with a single shot to the back of the head.
"First section clear," Ghost's voice came through my earpiece, tight with controlled rage. "Moving to the back rooms."
Gunfire continued to echo through the warehouse as our teams pushed deeper into the building. Marcus appeared at my side, face grim beneath a streak of someone else's blood.
"East corridor secured," he reported. "Found another eight girls locked in a separate container. They need medical, fast."
I nodded, reloading my weapon. "Get them ready to move. Extraction team's three minutes out." My gaze swept over the cages nearest us, taking in the hollow-eyed stares, the trembling limbs, the silent tears tracking through grime on too-young faces.
A crash from the far end of the warehouse pulled my attention back to the fight. Jack's roar of rage echoed off the walls, followed by the distinctive sound of his shotgun. More guards must have emerged from the back rooms.
"Let's finish this," I told Marcus, gesturing toward the sound. "Bug, start getting these cages open. Extraction team will meet you here."
We moved deeper into the warehouse, toward the sounds of continuing battle.
The fight had only just begun, and I knew the night would get bloodier before we got these girls to safety.
But for the first time in months, I felt like I made a real difference.
Killing these bastards felt more cathartic than something I should regret.
People who could do these kinds of things to other people didn’t deserve a trial.
They didn’t deserve a chance to explain their actions.
What was there to explain? No. I would not be losing a moment’s sleep over killing any one of these bastards.
By the time we finished, blood painted the concrete floors in crimson streaks, shell casings rolled underfoot, and the air thickened with cordite and fear.
A guttural roar erupted from the far end of the space.
I pivoted toward the sound, weapon raised, and caught sight of Jack's massive frame moving with shocking speed for a man his size.
One of the Copperheads – Vex, I realized with grim satisfaction – had grabbed a half-naked girl from an open cage, pressing a pistol to her temple as he backed toward an exit.
"Drop your fucking weapons or I paint the floor with her brains," Vex shouted, his voice cracking with panic. The girl couldn't have been older than fifteen, her eyes vacant from whatever drugs they pumped into her system, tears streaming down her hollow cheeks and I knew she couldn’t fight back.
Jack didn't slow his advance. His face transformed into something barely human, a mask of pure rage that made even my blood run cold. Vex fired a warning shot into the ceiling, tightening his grip on the girl.
"I fucking mean it!" he screamed.
Jack closed the distance between him and Vex in two massive strides, his hand shooting out to grip Vex's gun wrist, forcing it upward as the weapon discharged again. The girl crumpled to the floor, suddenly free as Jack pinned Vex against the wall with his forearm across the man's throat.
"You use children as shields?" Jack growled, his voice dropping to a register so low it felt like gravel in my ears. Then Jack put his pistol in the hollow of Vex’s shoulder and pulled the trigger. Unfortunately for Vex, Jack’s pistol happened to be a .
375. When the bullet tore through Vex’s shoulder, most of his arm came detached from the rest of his body.
Course, some of his arm didn’t detach. Basically, the thing hung uselessly at his side.
Vex's scream cut through the chaos of the warehouse, a sound more animal than man. Jack didn't let him suffer long, unfortunately. He slammed Vex's head against the concrete wall with enough force to paint it with brain matter and blood.
"Get these fucking cages open now!" Jack snarled, his massive chest heaving as he turned from Vex's corpse. His eyes burned with righteous fury as he scanned the room full of caged women.
It didn’t take long to cut off the padlocks. The prisoners reacted with varying degrees of fear and confusion. Some cowered deeper into their cages while others reached through bars with desperate hands.
Across the warehouse, Ghost moved like a specter through the chaos. Unlike Jack's berserker rage, Ghost worked the room with cold, methodical precision. Each shot from his pistol going into the head of some sick fuck, a look of satisfaction on Ghost’s face with every execution.
"Rocky, you hit?" Marcus appeared beside us, his weapon scanning for threats.
“Huh?” I gave him a quizzical look. “Am I hit?”
He pointed to my left arm and I glanced over. Blood coated my sleeve. Now that Ghost had pointed out the blood, my arm stung like a motherfucker.