Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
The hinges creaked as Quinn jumped out of the SUV, stepping onto the gravel spur before shutting the door with a firm thud.
A heavy fog covered the area, cloaking all but the closest objects in a dull gray.
The cold air smelled of brine and rotting cedar, the deep chill already seeping into his bones.
Five AM. Twelve hours since Scout had rolled behind his truck, yet it felt like twelve years.
Scout shouldered up beside him, looking lethal and sexy in dark tactical pants with a form-fitting, long-sleeved shirt and ballistic vest, her thick brown hair once again pulled up into a high ponytail.
She’d gotten leaner in the past few months, that edge he’d noticed earlier reflected in her eyes.
Until she looked at him, all those hard lines softening for a moment. She nudged his arm, nodding at his weapon. “You could have brought your rifle.”
He shook his head. “The Tikka’s solid, but she can’t empty a thirty-round magazine in under two seconds. While I hope I don’t need that kind of firepower, I can’t afford to be your weak link.”
“Trust me, you couldn’t be that if you tried.” She tilted her head, raking her gaze the length of him. “That new vest looks a bit snug. I’ll have Shepherd requisition you a larger one. He’s probably ordering another dozen for Coulter, anyway.”
“I heard that.” Coulter joined them at the side of the vehicle. “And I don’t get hit that often.”
“Tell that to Wynn and see how far you get.” Scout shoved him a step. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, big guy. We appreciate your dedication to guarding our asses, and we’ve made peace with the fact you’ll dive in front regardless of how well armed and trained we are.”
Coulter grinned. “After seeing Quinn in action, you’d best have Shepherd order a dozen for him, too, because he’s just as protective.”
Scout eyed Quinn. “Don’t I know it. You boys ready?”
Turning, she met up with Neve and the others as they ran through the first phase of the plan one more time before heading down a short embankment to a path that paralleled the main road above them.
Scout took point, quickstepping along the trail, carbine notched into her shoulder, head on a swivel. Waves rolled up the rocky beach, momentarily covering their route before ebbing back, gathering strength for the next breaker.
The industrial yard appeared out of the fog a layer at a time, the massive warehouse black against the eerie gray. Ten-foot-tall chain link topped by coils of razor wire surrounded the five-acre lot, an automated, rolling gate blocking the driveway into the yard.
They stopped at the edge of a low retaining wall, rivulets of muddy water draining into a narrow pipe at the base of the stone. Neve peered through her scope, studying the gate before shaking her head. She mouthed the word, “guard,” twirling her finger in the air as she pointed toward the ocean.
Scout nodded, following the perimeter until she reached a secluded section near the back.
Coulter moved in beside her, bypassing the single tamper wire woven through the squares with a set of alligator clips before snipping a hole — peeling back the edges.
He squeezed through first, taking a knee on the other side as Neve followed suit, Zadie and Wynn trailing behind.
Quinn reached Scout, motioning her through.
She cocked her head to the side, looking as if she might argue before flashing him a hint of a smile and darting through the opening.
A tendril of heat snaked beneath his skin and into his chest. Knowing she trusted him enough not only to have her six, but also her team’s, messed with his head.
Reinforced her claim that she wanted him in her life on a permanent basis.
That she’d fallen as hard as he had.
The yard stretched out on either side of them, the main warehouse located along a massive pier at the rear of the property.
A labyrinth of stacked shipping containers covered the area, piles of flaked rust chips littering the ground.
Neve waved Scout ahead, dropping to cover their six as Scout moved fluidly amidst the hulking metal units, carbine at the ready, boots silent across the uneven asphalt.
She looked completely at ease as she wove her way through the maze, shoulders braced, poised to counter any attack that might jump out at them.
Pride warmed Quinn’s chest. While he’d hiked with her for years — had watched her guide them through hazardous backcountry with nothing more than a compass and sheer grit — he’d never witnessed her in action, and he had to admit, she was as lethal as she was skilled.
Not that he’d expected anything less, but believing she was exceptional and seeing it in real time were distinctly different.
And he knew he’d never look at her the same.
Never watch her move and not remember how she’d saved his ass — was putting her life on the line to save Brea’s.
Neve and Coulter swept behind them as they continued down one row, then over to the next. Scout stopped at the next junction, fist raised as she pressed her back into the container. Quinn shouldered in beside her, nodding when she showed the countdown on her hand.
They moved together when she reached three, Scout sweeping left as he went right. He scanned the shadows, then turned, motioned her forward as she darted to the next opening, cleared it. Just like he’d done a thousand times in the field.
He shuffled in behind her, listening for movement, when a scuff sounded a couple rows over. Scout raised her fist, the entire team froze as she crept to the end of the container, peeked around the side.
She held up two fingers, signaling him to go right as she backtracked, vanishing into the shadows behind them.
Quinn inched forward, sticking to the deep pockets of darkness that bordered the containers as he closed in on the next set of units.
Someone coughed on the opposite side, a blast of static cutting through the steady crash of waves against the pier.
He pressed against the side, each hushed footfall mapping out the guard’s position until the guy stopped at the corner, just his shadow, elongated by the lights on the warehouse, stretching toward Quinn.
A breath, then Quinn stepped out, slapped one hand over the guy’s mouth, his arm locked around the man’s throat in a sleeper hold.
The guard thrashed, landing a few elbows to Quinn’s ribs before finally going limp, head bowed to his chest. Quinn held firm for another few seconds, already dragging the guy back behind the container when another guard turned the corner, cigarette hanging on his bottom lip, the end casting a red glow around the lower portion of his head.
He inhaled, raised his AR-15, when Scout stepped out behind him, cracked him in the head with the butt of her carbine. He tripped forward, colliding with the container before she was on him, sweeping out his legs, knocking him out with a boot to the head.
Quinn smiled his thanks, zip tying the first guy as Scout lowered her guard to the ground.
She accepted the ties Quinn gave her, duct taping both men’s mouths shut before dusting off her hands.
Quinn raked his gaze the length of her, checking for injuries, just in case, then stood, gesturing toward the warehouse.
She darted forward, navigating her way through the remaining containers before stopping at the edge of the last unit, surveying the double doors on the side of the building.
Cameras panned the twenty meters of open asphalt, with sophisticated code readers backed by massive padlocks on the door further complicating their entry.
Scout waited through another sweep of the cameras before urging them forward. They sprinted across the pavement, avoiding the puddles pooling from the rain, before pressing into the walls as Coulter removed a thermal torch. Sparks hissed from the padlock, the heat burning the metal a deep crimson.
Zadie slid over to an electrical box recessed into the wall, sorting through the wires until she found what she needed. A couple clips, and she’d hooked up her tablet, the code reader blinking green a moment later, the cameras recording a twenty-second loop.
Neve remained on the other side, rifle sweeping the shadows until Coulter melted his way through just as Zadie signaled the “all-clear”, then joined them at the doorway. The heavy doors whooshed open, closing tightly behind them once they’d stepped inside.
Quinn blinked against the flash of light as strips of fluorescent bulbs winked on, cascading the length of the building in a nauseating wave, emitting a low hum that seemed to vibrate up through the floor. Ozone thickened the already humid air, a hint of bleach woven through.
Neve grunted as she stepped forward. “I really hope we’re alone in here, because those lights just gave away our position.”
Quinn snorted. “Pretty sure there would be bullets flying if we weren’t, but…”
“Regardless, everyone keeps their damn head on a swivel.” Neve tsked as she scanned the contents. “Who the hell operates a warehouse this size with only a forklift and some barrels as inventory?”
“Someone who’s not really selling anything. At least, nothing legal.” Quinn nodded toward the two, industrial-sized armored mobile trailers positioned near the back. “I know I’m going to regret this, but… What do you think’s inside those trailers?”
Zadie pointed to the first one. “With the number of high voltage cables and cooling systems connected to that first one, I’d say we’ve got ourselves a server hub.”
Wynn shouldered up beside Zadie. “And the other’s got what looks like liquid nitrogen cooling tanks by the hitch and heavy-duty air filtration HVACs on top that likely create positive air pressure inside the unit. I’m betting it’s some kind of bio-containment rig.”
Quinn balked. “Bio-containment? Are we talking chemical warfare?”