ARI
THIRTY-TWO
Ihated this plan.
I hated this plan something fierce.
There were too many risks. Too many things left to chance.
“This isn’t a plan. This is a suicide mission,” I told Warren, and Slade turned to look at me with a strained smile and said, “Wyatt knows what he’s doing.”
Warren’s frown deepened, and he squeezed my shoulder. “If something—anything happens, we’ll intervene,” he said.
“We’ve got to finish this,” Slade reiterated. “It’s now or never. We have no choice.”
I could think of a thousand reasons why he was wrong and why there were far, far better choices to make, but in that moment, all I could do was stare at the monitor in front of Slade, and more specifically, the soundwaves dancing on the screen, transmitting any sound Wyatt made across the town hall.
“Everyone will know what you did, big guy,” his voice came through and only slightly crackly, and the air escaped from my lungs, refusing to return.
How could this be a plan? How? Making a scene in the middle of the day was wild.
“That’s exactly why it will work,” Slade said, this time exuding a lot more confidence than before.
I glared at him. “There are too many eyewitnesses to do something to him.”
“Yeah. Here. What happens if they take him away?”
Slade smirked. “Still too many eyewitnesses. Trust us. We’ve been through this a hundred times.”
“Well, I don’t trust it.” I shrugged as shuffling and sounds of struggle came through the speakers of Slade’s computer. The knot in my throat got bigger and my heart started racing.
“You went back on your word. You said you wouldn’t hurt anyone else,” he said.
Wilson didn’t reply. Instead, the shuffling sounds got even worse as Wyatt was strip-searched.
Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, Wilson said, “Seriously?” and there was a crash and a high-pitched sound that made us all reach for our ears. The soundwave went flat after that. I stared at it, willing it to come back to life, to give me something, anything, but it was pointless.
The recording device had been found. It had been confiscated and destroyed. All according to plan, and yet I felt even less confidence in it than I felt two seconds ago.
Slade reached to his earpiece and said in a cold, direct manner, “This is Delta. The Eagle has landed. Delta is blind. Bravo, Charlie, TACON is yours.”
He then clicked different things on his computer, and suddenly the soundwave window was replaced by a live feed outside the town hall.
It was grainy, but so…serene. So quiet. So peaceful.
One wouldn’t know from looking at the live feed that a man’s life was at stake just behind those walls.
But I knew. I knew and I couldn’t breathe. Maybe I never would again.
“Bravo copies. Eyes are live,” Dare’s recognizable voice came loud through the speakers, and the hairs on the back of my neck rose.
“Charlie copies. Eyes are live,” said Parker’s voice, and another feed opened up of the back street of the town hall.
“Delta has eyes,” Slade replied, and time seemed to stop in that moment. This was all getting too real. Far too real for my liking, and I felt helpless to stop it.
“Now what?” I stuttered, my mouth dry from being unable to function properly.
“Now we wait,” Slade answered, not taking his eyes off the screen.
“Oh, is that it?” I scoffed, and I felt Warren’s hand on my back as he rubbed the spot between my shoulder blades. It didn’t do anything to alleviate the stress.
I blinked.
What was I doing? This was Warren’s brother we were talking about and he was comforting me.
I looked at him and tried to find some semblance of control so I could ask him. “Are you okay?”
He didn’t reply. He simply licked his lips and huffed, and I felt like a tool for being so focused on me and how I was feeling that I’d completely forgotten my best friend was suffering too.
Before I could apologize or say something—not sure what I could possibly say to make anything better—there was movement on the camera, and Dare’s voice confirmed it.
Two men dragged Wyatt out of the town hall, but instead of dumping him in the street, they shoved him in the back of a car and sped away, further and further into the unknown.
My hand slipped down from Warren’s arm to his hand, and we held each other as we watched his brother and the second love of my life get carried farther and farther away from us.
I hated this plan.
I hated this plan something fierce.