25. Drake #3
I joined Julian in his appallingly bright red Ferrari with four unmarked black SUVs on our tail.
And if the adrenaline chasing Italian ran several traffic lights on the way across the city, no one bat an eye.
Normally, his fast driving exasperated me, but I graciously overlooked it, given the circumstances.
I’d personally pay off any speeding tickets he got for the next year.
Not that any cop in the city would be dumb enough to stop a Rossi.
Dread itched under my skin during the excruciatingly long drive.
My trigger finger twitched for retribution and my heart thrummed in the rhythm of Helen’s name.
Was she alright? Would she be there? What was Douglas planning to do with her?
If she was hurt, I’d repay him a hundred times over before snuffing out the life in his eyes.
It hurt, it hurt so fucking much to think of who took her.
Nothing stung quite like betrayal from a friend—a brother.
Yet his disloyalty and treachery paled compared to the agony of my fear for Helen and her wellbeing.
The beast of my burdensome feelings wreaked havoc behind the cage of my ribs, growing increasingly violent with each minute that passed.
A warehouse along the Hudson River blinked on the GPS screen.
Unsure of what we were heading into, Julian parked a block away.
Joined by Montgomery reinforcements, I wrestled a mask in place and bullied my concern into a box in the back of my mind.
Only clear headed and rational actions would serve me and save my wife.
Gun in hand, I prowled through the dark, damp alleys between warehouses. The stink of the Hudson and smoke from the air swelled around us. A cool breeze crept around me, chilling the sweat on my brow and down my back.
The desire to bolt into action and begin shooting without asking questions seized me when the location emerged from around a corner.
Tall red brick and swarming with masked men no better than a pack of vermin guarding their ratty nest. Dim lights reflected off their black masks and the weapons they carried. My hand jerked, ready to fire.
“Hold the heroics, Drake.” Julian caught my shoulder, snapping in my ear. “We need to strategize before we rush in blindly.”
“No, we fucking don’t,” I growled under my breath. “Same infiltration tactics as that job we did in Morocco.”
“Fuck no, you idiot. There’s at least two dozen men in there, if not more.”
“Easy pickings.” My blood vibrated dangerously under my skin.
“We need a distraction. Can you at least wait long enough for me to create one?”
“Take care of it and be quick.” He didn’t take my short, snappish tone personally. Slipping into action-mode, Julian ordered half the Montgomery team to join him.
“We’re Team Beta. We’re going to draw their attention to the loading docks on the river side so Drake and the Alpha Team can go in through the front.” Nods of assent were his answer. My friend addressed me again. “Wait for my signal.”
I didn’t need to ask what it would be. I would know it when I saw it.
“This isn’t just an extraction job,” I told Alpha Team when Julian and the other half vanished into the shadows.
“We find Helen and retrieve her by any means necessary, but we’re killing every single mother fucker we can.
If any of you get in my way, I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your skull. Am I understood?”
“Yes, sir.” They echoed in hushed voices. The determination on their faces struck me with the realization that Helen’s people worked based on a deeply instilled loyalty. Where my father commanded respect through fear and punishments, the Montgomery enforcers believed in what they were doing.
Silently, carefully, we broke through the shadow of the warehouse, creeping closer to the run-down building. I hadn’t asked Julian to be subtle and I never would. The ground beneath our boots trembled and a flash of light brightened the area.
There was my diversion.
The small blast on the opposite side of the building facing the river drew shouts from the pathetic crew around the property. I didn’t know Julian had explosives on him, but I never doubted his resourcefulness. I only hoped he took out a good chunk of the masked fuckers with the sudden explosion.
In the ensuing disarray, I wondered if they had any training at all, because nearly all of them rushed around the corner to investigate the disruption, leaving the front entrance unguarded.
Embarrassing, really.
Well, five remained, but that was essentially unguarded where I was concerned.
The masked thugs scattered in the bedlam, leaving an opening for me to strike.
Unconcerned with Alpha Team, I stalked toward my intended prey with a lust for blood driving me.
Douglas Miller was a stupid mother fucker for betraying me.
He loved to tease me for the fire-breathing moniker, knowing I loathed it.
If he wanted the Dragon, he would get one.
A dangerous game, but one I knew how to play better than he ever would.
My rage was potent, barely restrained within me.
Grasping that anger and shaping it to fit my needs, I donned my fury like armor.
It was war; it was brutal, and it was unapologetically vicious.
Everything Helen needed from me if she was in there.
Advancing on the oblivious masked morons, guns primed and aimed, the first shots rang out and the first bodies fell as I went to war for her.