Chapter 19 #2
“You’re coming up on the south entrance,” Alice—who was in full-Shadow mode now—spoke through Rafe’s earpiece. “Two heat signatures inside the building, west side.”
Rafe glanced through his windshield toward the dark warehouse ahead. The abandoned industrial complex stretched across several acres on the outskirts of Charlotte.
Rows of abandoned buildings stood empty. Their metal roofs and walls were speckled with rust. Windows were broken or boarded. Some were miraculously still holding strong.
Rafe tightened his grip on the wheel. “Copy.”
Digger’s voice came through next. “This is where the team splits,” he spoke from one of the team’s other two SUVs. “Falcon and Apollo will take the east side. Bones and Colt, you stick with me.”
Rafe almost smiled. “And me?”
“You go where you’re needed,” Digger replied.
His way of saying he knew exactly where Rafe would be headed.
To Lena.
The team’s vehicles rolled to a stop without headlights. Rafe and the others slipped into the shadows, moving silently in their quest for justice.
Following Slade’s orders, Falcon and Apollo went one way, while Digger, Colt, and Bones took off in another. Rafe continued straight, staying in the shadows with his weapon raised and steady.
The first guard he spotted never knew he was there. Rafe came out of the darkness, aimed his gun and pulled the trigger. The man jerked before slumping forward and hitting the ground.
One down.
“East side clear,” Falcon whispered.
Another guard stepped out from behind a loading dock to Rafe’s right. He barely had time to register the movement before Colt appeared out of nowhere and dropped him.
“That’s two.” Colt motioned to the man Rafe had just killed.
“Make that three,” Bones’ voice sounded through the comms. His low curse sounded next. “I just found Roger Wilcox.”
Rafe’s heart kicked. “Status?”
“He’s gone. Looks like they shot him, and then drug him back here, out of sight.”
His jaw clenched before he ordered, “Keep moving.”
Rafe didn’t stop. His pulse hammered harder with every step. He knew how men like Stanton thought. If he heard the team coming, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill Lena and take off into the night.
Not a bloody chance.
“I’m seeing movement near the north entrance,” Shadow’s voice came next. “One man.”
He turned and headed that way. The guard barely made it three steps before Digger rounded the corner and took him out.
“North is clear.” He looked to Rafe with a nod.
Shadow updated them again. “I’m not seeing anyone else outside.”
Rafe pushed through one of the building’s side doors. Darkness swallowed him. The interior smelled of damp concrete and rust.
A noise sounded from someplace deeper within the building. Something metallic clanged and then came Lena’s voice.
It was a muffled cry, rather than words, which immediately turned Rafe’s blood to ice. He moved faster, toward a narrow hallway that opened ahead of him. His booted feet carried him to the only room casting a soft glow in the darkness.
The door stood partially open. Rafe approached it with caution and his weapon raised. He looked into the room, his heart dropping when he saw her.
Lena was on the floor with her hands and feet bound. She wasn’t moving, and her eyes were closed.
“Lena?”
Her eyes flew open, relief immediately flashing across her battered face.
“Rafe?”
Thinking she was alone, he started to rush inside but a gun appeared at his left temple.
“That’s far enough.”
Henry Stanton stepped from the shadows not far from where Lena lay.
Rafe froze, mentally berating himself for making such a rookie mistake.
It’s a good thing you’re hanging up your boots.
The time for self-deprecation was later. For now, he needed to get himself and Lena out of this mess alive.
“I was wondering how long it would take.” Stanton grinned. He pointed his gun at Lena’s head.
“Let her go,” Rafe growled. “Your beef is with me.”
Stanton’s smile grew wide. “It’s cute you think you’re still in charge.”
Rafe’s jaw tightened with barely controlled rage as the man continued pointing the deadly weapon in her direction.
Lena’s one good eye met Rafe’s. Even given her condition, he could see the warning there.
Don’t let him control you.
“Why are you doing this?” he demanded of Stanton, forcing his gaze to leave hers and move to her captor’s. “It was done. Your father is behind bars, where he belongs. What happened had nothing to do with you.”
“You’re wrong!” Stanton seethed, taking a broad step in Rafe’s direction.
“I lost everything because of what you and your daughter did! My reputation. My friends. My job. So did my mother. The feds seized our money. They took our house, our cars . . . and they kept taking and taking until we had nothing left.” Daggers shot at Rafe from the man’s narrowed eyes. “And it’s all because of you.”
“Wrong.” Rafe kept his weapon trained on him. “Your father broke into my home in the middle of the night, and he killed my wife in cold blood. He made that choice, just like he chose to become a dirty agent.”
Behind Stanton, Lena shifted slightly. Rafe didn’t let on, but he’d seen her fingers working against the plastic ties. She was attempting to create an opening.
Stanton was unaware.
“My father did what he had to do to survive,” Stanton growled. “Same as me.”
He was right about one thing. He and his father were one and the same. They were both self-centered, self-righteous, egotistical men whose first defense is to play the victim.