Chapter 25
After what felt like an endless sprint, the team reached the vehicles and piled in, barely waiting for doors to close as tires spun on the gravel. Engines roared to life, and they tore toward the farm, urgency driving their every move.
Link’s voice crackled over the comms, crisp and no-nonsense. “Moose, Jake’s been informed—the town team’s RTB at the farm. All units, switch comms to channel six to maintain integrity. We need a secure frequency for team coordination. Over.”
Moose acknowledged the Return to Base order, his eyes scanning the perimeter as trucks screeched to a halt just off the driveway.
The engines idled like restless beasts, their low growl echoing in the oppressive stillness.
Moose and his team melted into the surrounding trees, moving like shadows along the edge of the clearing.
The only sound was the soft rustle of leaves, a stark contrast to the tension that crackled in the air.
They pressed forward, each step heavy with anticipation, until they reached the edge of the front yard. From this vantage point, they took in the scene unfolding before them—the stillness that draped over the farm carried an uneasy weight, every detail whispering of hidden dangers.
Link’s voice broke the silence, steady and sharp. “Satellite feed shows two tangos near the barn at the back, one creeping around the chicken coop, two more just inside the tree line. No movement from them yet—seems like they’re waiting for something.”
Moose’s stomach twisted as his gaze snapped to the two tangos lurking near the root cellar—the very spot where Elena and Nancy were supposed to be hiding.
Just then, the back door swung open violently, and Jim emerged, shotgun gripped tightly in his hands.
Despite his age, the resolve in Jim’s eyes was unmistakable.
Jim fired a blast, but the tango barely flinched, advancing with a cruel grin. Before Moose could react, a sharp crack rang out; Jim collapsed, clutching his right thigh, blood seeping through his fingers.
“Jim!” Moose hissed into the comms, adrenaline flooding his veins. At the same moment, Enzo and Jake bolted from the house. Enzo raised his weapon and fired at the tango who shot Jim, but the man managed to dive for cover behind the corner of the barn.
The two sprinted to Jim’s side, forming a protective circle.
“Man down, need medical!” Jake barked over the comms, voice laced with desperation. “Jim’s hit—right thigh!”
Moose forced himself to breathe, voice sharp and commanding. “Link, alert DEA and State Police! Contact made at the farm—medical on Jim, ASAP!”
As Moose issued orders, Shadow and Viper appeared, flanking Jake and Enzo with grim determination. “Drop weapons! On the ground, now!” Their voices cut through chaos with firm authority.
Meanwhile, Bear and Jax stalked the perimeter, methodically hunting the remaining three gang members, eyes sharp, weapons ready.
Shadow and Viper swiftly subdued the two tangos, while Bear emerged from the treeline dragging the third by the arm. The man struggled, but Bear’s grip was unyielding as he tossed him alongside the others—defiant expressions frozen on their faces.
“Keep eyes on these three,” Bear ordered, “make sure they don’t try anything. There’s two more out there.”
“Got it,” Jax replied, readying his weapon, never lowering his guard.
With the perimeter somewhat secure, Moose moved toward the barn, eyes searching for any signs of Elena or Nancy. Approaching the root cellar door, he called softly, “Watermelon.”
Moose pressed his ear against the heavy wooden door of the root cellar. Silence. Not even a whisper. His pulse quickened.
“Elena? Nancy?” he called softly, voice barely more than a breath.
No response. The stillness inside was profound.
Without hesitation, Moose gripped the door handle and pushed it open, stepping into the cool, shadowed cellar.
His eyes adjusted quickly to the dim, cramped space of the small root cellar.
He scanned every shadowed corner, every shelf stocked with jars and old crates.
But there was no sign of Elena or Nancy—no footprints, no displaced items, no clue that anyone had been here recently.
More unsettling was the absence of any sign of a struggle.
Moose’s jaw tightened as his gaze flicked to where Jim lay, wounded and vulnerable. The concern for his uncle warred fiercely with an even deeper, gnawing fear for Elena and Nancy’s safety. He ran a hand through his hair, the familiar gesture doing little to calm the storm inside him.
Moose’s voice came steady over the comms. “Nancy and Elena aren’t here. Two tangos are still unaccounted for. Jax, continue stabilizing Jim. Jake, you guard the three we’ve got and hold position for the DEA. Everyone else…let’s find the ladies.”
“Shadow, Viper,” he called quietly over the comms, his tone firm but calm. “You two are our best trackers. I want you on this—see if you can pick up any sign of Elena or Nancy.”
Shadow nodded, eyes narrowing as he scanned the perimeter, while Viper crouched low, feet light on the ground, searching for even the faintest trace.
As Moose began to move through the dense woods, the tension in his chest didn’t ease, but his mind sharpened. Amid the swirling thoughts and mounting fear, a single thought broke through with clarity.
“Bear, the cave,” he called softly over the comms, his voice level despite the pounding of his heart.
A flicker of hope ignited inside him, quickly followed by another, sharper realization: his mom, Nancy—her secret refuge. The cave she always escaped to when the world became too much.
The cave.
Moose and Bear moved deliberately through the thick underbrush, their footsteps muffled by the damp earth beneath. Every muscle was tense, senses heightened as they led the way toward the cave hidden in the shadows of the hillside.
Behind them, the rest of the team spread out cautiously, eyes scanning the woods for any sign of movement. The two missing gang members were still out there, lurking—unknown threats stalking their every step.
Moose’s grip tightened on his rifle, heart pacing with a mix of adrenaline and dread. The cave held a slim hope of finding Elena and Nancy, but the danger closing in made every moment feel razor-edged.