Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Gunfire snapped through the air, chewing through the rock and mud in front of them, spraying shrapnel-like stone chips across Scout’s face. The scent of crushed pine and moss saturated the air, a hint of cordite weaving up the incline.
Scout tapped her comms unit, but all she got was a blast of static and a few choppy words. Neve, she thought, though she couldn’t be sure.
Quinn fired again, targeting the men in the ATV, seemingly oblivious to the rounds whizzing past his head, one looking as if it punched a hole right through his vest. Scout pushed to her feet, grabbed the handle on the back of his vest and physically yanked him back from the precipice a moment before the first couple feet sloughed off, tumbling down the steep embankment as more bullets chipped away at the next layer.
He stumbled, barely getting his feet underneath him as she dragged him behind a large stump, shoving him against the rough bark. “Jesus, Scout, what the…”
She didn’t talk, just ran her hands up and down his vest, then along his arms, looking for any hits. Finding a long groove across his ribs didn’t help ease her worries. Not when she knew he’d be challenging the men again.
Her pulse pounded in her head, the fear she usually shoved into a box cracking open. “Christ, I thought…”
She thought she’d just watched him take a fatal round.
His scowl softened. “It was just a graze. The vest held.”
“For now. If you keep getting hit...” She cursed as more gunfire filled the night. “We’ll flank right, get a better sightline, just…”
She didn’t finish. Couldn’t. Not when she knew she would have fired if he hadn’t. That no amount of stealth overshadowed saving Brea’s life.
Quinn moved in behind her as she shifted over, blazed a trail back to the edge that hopefully gave them a bit of an advantage.
She crouched at the top, scoping out the landscape.
The men had spread out, one corralling the runners in a ditch along the north side of the road, his head barely visible above the lip.
The others scanned the ridge line, either searching for movement or maybe a glint off their scopes.
Quinn took up his position beside her, the rifle looking almost small in his massive hands. “I can’t get a clean shot on the asshole guarding them, and it’s only a matter of time before they cut their losses and move out.”
Scout panned back. “Then, let’s take away their transport.”
She focused on the ATV, lining up the engine block before emptying half her rounds into the machine, clipping both front tires once she’d pierced the grill.
White steam belched from beneath the hood as the entire front half dropped, the winch above the bumper digging into the mud.
The lights flickered, dimming to half-strength.
Not enough to plunge the area into complete darkness, but enough the men could vanish into the shadows.
That got everyone moving, the asshole guarding the runners ushering them deeper into the trench as the other mercs redirected their assault, spraying the entire ridge with heavy caliber rounds. They didn’t seem fazed, changing out mags, then firing again.
A deep rumble sounded from the west—the road her teammates were supposed to block brightening from beyond the bend.
Scout panned over, wondering if Coulter and Neve were already making their move, when a massive, armored transport truck barreled around the corner, mud rooster tailing across the edge of the track.
Gravel spit out each side, a bank of lights above the windshield eating up the darkness.
The vehicle skidded to a halt, a mix of mud and rocks sluicing across the road as rain shimmered in the beams. The passenger door opened, as an insanely large man stepped out onto the ground. No running for cover, just him standing beside the transport, calmly assessing the situation.
The guy scanned the ridge, and Scout swore he stared directly at them before reaching into the vehicle, grabbing an AR-15. He fired, the brass punching through the branches above them, shaking a curtain of pine needles down over their heads.
She brushed them off, lining him up through the scope. “No one’s that good.”
She fired, hitting him center mass as he strode across the gravel road toward the runners still hiding in the ditch. The impact barely slowed him down, his arm lifting on his next step as another round of bullets whizzed past their heads.
Quinn cocked his head. “Did he really take that hit without missing a step?”
“He’s definitely enhanced, but…” Her voice trailed off as he made a few hand signals to the other men, waving the runners toward the vehicle.
Scout hissed out a breath. “That guy’s not backup. He’s their transport.”
Quinn slung his rifle across his back, palmed the ground then vaulted onto the steep embankment. He sank knee deep into the freezing mud and debris but just kept on moving, half-sliding, half-falling down the slope, leaping over rocks and logs as bramble and branches clawed at his legs.
Scout swore under her breath, sending out a blanket nine-one-one to her team despite the hiss of static that screeched in her ear, then jumped off the ridge, choosing the fastest line and least lethal line down the slope.
Quinn charged ahead, moving at an insane speed, deftly avoiding every obstacle that blocked his way.
She picked up the pace, ignoring how branches snapped across her face as thorns snagged her pants.
Quinn landed in an explosion of mud and rock, one of the men already on an intercept course.
Bullets stitched across the track, pelting the slope where he’d been standing as he dove sideways, using that downed ATV as cover.
He went for his weapon, when the guy who’d been racing toward him palmed the hood, landed in front a second later.
Scout hit the ravine just as the men crashed together, fists flying, both of them landing a few punches. She swung her carbine around, tried to put the merc in her sights, but they kept changing positions too quickly to guarantee a hit wouldn’t clip Quinn.
She darted forward, trading her carbine for her Sig — what she hoped would be more accurate up close.
Quinn grunted, a shift in his shoulders the only warning before he lunged, tackling the merc to the ground before landing a series of punishing blows — looking like the one who was pumped up on drugs.
The other guy tried to toss him off, reaching for a knife only to have Quinn tear it from his grip, plunge it in his thigh. The asshole growled, tore at Quinn’s arms when Quinn grabbed his Sig — used it to knock the guy out.
He stood, already zeroing in on the transport when Scout barreled into him, taking them both over the door of the ATV and into the cab just as more brass ate up the air above the downed merc, sparking off the metal like angry fireflies.
Another stream kept them pinned down while the guy managed to crawl away, eliminating any hope of taking one of them alive as the transport engine revved, exhaust pumping out the back in a cloud of choking fumes.
Scout rose with her weapon already notched in her shoulder, a bead on the vehicle as it lurched forward. She aimed at the wheels, anything to stop it from bugging out, but even a direct hit didn’t slow it down, the run flats keeping the tires rolling.
Quinn scrambled upright, looking as if he planned on running the damn thing down, when headlights flooded the far bend, Coulter’s truck and Neve’s SUV skidded around the corner in a rush of gravel and mud.
Wynn and Zadie leaned out the passenger windows, carbines barking as they raced in hot, before the vehicles swerved sideways, effectively blocking the exit.
The transport truck changed course, bouncing down the ditch, nearly tipping from the angle before plowing up the other side, heading for a hint of a track between the trees.
What must have been an old connector that hadn’t been used in decades.
Trees and brush shook from the onslaught, sheer weight and momentum carrying the truck forward.
Scout leaped out of the cab, sprinting toward the ass end.
If she could grab the rear handle, climb onto the bumper, she might be able to jimmy it open — get onboard.
Quinn obviously had the same thoughts, blowing past her, his size and muscle volume quickly overtaking her.
He was a couple feet ahead, halfway to the ditch, when that asshole lowered the passenger window, tossed out a frag.
Quinn pivoted on his next step, abandoning the chase as he grabbed ahold of her — took them both to the ground. He tucked her head into his chest, curling over her as he put his body between her and the grenade.
The canister hit the ditch, bounced onto the road then detonated, emitting a blinding flash of white light as a deafening shrill shattered the air, smoke pouring out one end.
The world imploded around her. Skull rattling and every muscle twitching at once, Scout shuddered, Quinn’s arms the only anchor preventing her from collapsing into a heap in the mud.
An ear-piercing wail looped inside her head, the ground tilting left and right as Quinn held firm, his body shaking from the assault.
Time froze, held them captive as the flash bang finally ran its course, the chemically enhanced smoke burning a line down her throat. The tone lingered, still ringing in her ears when Quinn finally eased back, lifting her chin until she managed to meet his gaze.
He squinted, looking as if he might puke. “You okay?”
She nodded, or maybe she just blinked. Every tiny movement sent the scenery sliding again. Tires crunched nearby, doors opened then closed.
Quinn straightened, Sig in one hand, the muzzle carving out a circle in the air. Not quite steady, but she knew he’d still hit his target, residual effects or not. His chest heaved, muscles primed before his head tilted back as he lowered his arm.
Wynn dropped down beside them a moment later, already reaching for her med kit.
Scout waved her off. “We’re fine.”
Wynn huffed, already shining a light in Quinn’s eyes. “You just had a flash bang ignite several feet away. You’re lucky it landed facing the other direction or you would have gotten burned.”
“But we didn’t.”
Wynn arched a brow, her face wavering a bit. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
Quinn turned away, peeled his hand off Scout then stood, stumbling a few steps toward the ditch before Coulter caught his weight, stopped him from faceplanting into the muck. “We have to go after them. Brea’s on that transport.”
Coulter glanced at Scout before following the path the transport had taken. “Their truck clipped a rotted pine. Blocked the route.”
“Then, we’ll cut it.”
“Quinn…” Coulter tightened his grip. “By the time we get through a trunk that size…”
Quinn pulled away, tripping his way to the edge. “We can’t just stand here and do nothing.” He turned, pinned Scout with his gaze. “We’ll double back. Have your buddy, Gideon, get us an update. I’ll find a way to cut them off.”
Zadie stepped forward, tablet in one hand. “They must have turned on a jammer. Gideon said their signals just vanished beyond that tree line. And he can’t see where this old road goes. Not without a live feed to zero in on the truck, and we don’t have access to any satellites.”
Scout staggered to her feet, steadying herself before closing the distance. “At least we know she’s alive.”
Quinn’s mouth twitched, his hands balling into fists at his side. “You saw what they did to that other runner. Hell, they even carted off his body. It’s only a matter of time before they’re all eliminated.”
Scout moved forward when he looked like he might bolt. “If they wanted everyone dead, they would’ve killed them. This has got to be part of a larger op. We’ll track them down. Get Brea back.”
“How?”
“The same way we attack every mission. As a team.”
Quinn’s chin quivered, the only crack in his flawless armor before he turned, gazing into the darkness.
Scout inched forward, settling in beside him. “I know this is killing you?—”
“I can’t bury anyone else. I can’t.”
Guilt slammed into her, the broken edge to his voice nearly taking her to her knees.
She breathed through the emotional hit, finally moving in front of him. “We’re going to do everything possible to see that you don’t have to. And yeah, I know that’s pretty rich coming from me after what I put you through. But I swear, we’ll tear this mountain apart if we have to.”
He stared at her, jaw clenched, the muscle in his temple jumping from the strain as the rain thundered above. “I’m not going to stand down.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“Isn’t your boss going to have something to say about that? Because you do have a boss, right?”
“A general, actually.” She looked at her teammates then back to him. “Just let us do the talking. One way or another, we’re getting Brea back.”