Chapter 79 Adam
Adam
The sight inside the truck hit me like a punch to the chest. Not containers. Not bags. People.
Strapped down, IVs taped to their arms, eyes glassy with sedation. Breathing, but barely.
Raine’s hand clutched a girl’s, her voice soft, breaking. I couldn’t let myself stay in that moment. Not now. Later, maybe. But right now, they were still in the line of fire.
“Move!” I barked.
Hawk hauled the driver to the asphalt, zip-tied and gagged before he could spit another word. Logan covered the left flank, his pistol flashing as two masked men made a final desperate push. Blade slipped between them, silent and merciless, steel flashing red under the headlights.
Russ’s voice crackled in over comms, tight but calm. “Perimeter’s holding. Boone says no reinforcements on the feed—yet.”
“Not good enough,” I growled. “We strip this truck and roll before they regroup.”
Hawk vaulted into the trailer, his rifle slung as he started cutting restraints. “They’re sedated heavy,” he said, voice grim. “Not walking out on their own.”
“Then we carry them,” I snapped.
Blade slid into the trailer, his movements efficient, unhooking IV lines like paper. Logan cursed but followed, lifting a man off a gurney and slinging him over his shoulder.
I turned to Raine, her face pale but fierce as she steadied the girl’s arm. “Get her loose. We’ll cover you.”
Her eyes locked on mine, steady. “She’s coming out.”
Another burst of gunfire rattled the bridge. I leaned out, dropping the last masked man with a single shot. The silence that followed was heavy, too heavy, the kind that warned this wasn’t over.
“Two minutes!” I barked. “Everyone moves or I torch this truck where it stands.”
Raine flinched but kept working, her fingers gentle, precise. Hawk hauled another victim down the ramp, Russ appearing at his side to take the weight. Blade shoved one more free, his eyes scanning the road even as his hands never slowed.
Logan staggered past me with his burden, sweat running down his face, his voice rough. “This isn’t a shipment. It’s a slaughterhouse.”
My chest burned, fury boiling like acid.
“Not anymore,” I said.
I fired one last glance inside the truck. Twelve souls, barely clinging to life, pulled from the jaws of hell. My men moving like a machine, Raine steady in the storm.
This wasn’t the victory. Not yet.
But it was proof.
And proof meant the bastards behind this had just made their first mistake. And someone better do something this time, or all hell will break loose.