CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
NOAH
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By the time we reach the end of the property, still in radio contact with Josh, we see a handful of black-garbed figures running across the lawn near where the reinforcement of the fence is still under construction.
“Jesus Christ,” Aidan curses, slamming on the brakes.
We leap off, pull out our weapons and crouch behind the vehicle.
“We’re taking fire,” Josh says over the two-way radio—aka walkie-talkie—that Aidan holds.
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat.
The crack of gunfire and pings as it hits the Jeep break the silence.
“Motherfuckers,” I curse, wishing we had rifles.
“Got you covered,” Cole calls behind me, tapping my back.
I lean out, Glock pointed at the enemy and start firing.
Pop.
Pop.
Pop.
Two men go down.
“How many?” Aidan slams a fresh cartridge into his weapon, having emptied his chamber.
“I saw three more.”
He tosses me a refill, and I grab it out of the air.
“On it,” Cole says. “Watch my six, and I’ll let you win tomorrow at poker.”
I snort. “Or I can let you take one for the team.”
“Asshole.” He laughs.
Pop.
“Gotcha,” Cole says. “Over by you, Aidan.”
“I want this one alive.” The Marine takes off, and I curse, tailing him while Cole covers us.
As we get closer to the erected temporary buildings we plan to train at tomorrow, the gang members use them to hide behind, but the glass suddenly explodes. Nice one, Aidan.
I get my first look at the dead bodies as I run across the lawn. Barely goddamn twenty-three. The bosses have sent their soldiers, and even if they were alive, it’s unlikely they’d talk.
Waste of fucking young lives.
There’s a lot of yelling and shots fired. Aidan circles one of the pre-parked vehicles, then nods at me and the ground. I know immediately what he’s telling me.
I reach under the car and drag out the mobster. We both tackle the guy, who is stronger than he looks, and I kick his gun away.
Using the butt of his Glock, Aidan whacks the man on his head, and the guy crumples.
“We’re giving chase into the East Section,” Josh calls through the walkie-talkie in Aidan’s pocket.
He whips it out. “Need backup?”
“We need light. We’re putting in big fucking lights next week.”
I chuckle darkly. Not liking the fact that we have vicious, bloodthirsty cartel members on the loose in the facility.
“Call the cops,” Aidan says, whipping off the guy’s belt to tie his wrists.
Cole jogs over and rips out his phone.
Glancing around at the bodies, I let out a curse, then stare over at the Hummer. I need to make sure they are all disarmed.
“I’m going to drive around and see if I can corral any others back toward Josh and the boys.”
Aidan nods. “Go.”
I jog back to the vehicle and leap into the driver’s seat, finding the keys. I start the engine and then maneuver back onto the path. Without the walkie talkie, I’m running blind, but I turn the lights on full beam and keep my gun resting on my leg.
These fuckers.
I’m super-exposed out here, but there’s no way I’m going to stand around knowing these assholes are loose on the compound while Quinn is unarmed and exposed.
Thank God she’s in bed. Liam and the team will have directed them back to their rooms, which will have frustrated her; no warrior likes to miss out on the action.
I never should have told her about the cartel. I hate that she’ll be worried.
About me?
I like to think so.
I steer the Hummer around the corner past the course we were at a few days ago and spot a shadow running past some trees.
“Shit.” I floor it, gripping the steering wheel with both hands, while still holding the Glock.
I skid to a halt and jump out. Taking off, my gun out in front of me, I head into the trees.
Without my boots and only my sneakers, I don’t have as much traction on the fallen leaves. Then I slow and start listening for them.
A stick snaps nearby.
Got ya.
I spin and head in that direction, staying low and alert to everything around me. It’s so fucking dark I can barely see a thing.
“Noah?” I hear a feminine whisper.
I freeze.
My head turns as my blood goes cold. It’s almost like I know what’s going to happen before it does, and I can’t do anything about it.
Not almost, definitely.
Like fate is in charge, and I’m just some pawn.
“Get out of here, Quinn. Now!” I hiss because if I’m right, this cartel soldier is close.
Fucking close.
Then I second-guess myself, which is not something I do often. Do I want her to turn around and head back on her own?
Think, think, think.
“I can help,” Quinn says, and I hear crunch, crunch, crunch on the leaves behind me. “Give me a weapon.”
She’s right.
She could.
But right now, she’s not armed, and I don’t have another one to toss her, even if I could see her. Neither of us has goggles or gear to see in this dark, wooded area.
Another snap from my left.
“Stay back,” I grunt low, estimating that she’s at least a yard or so behind me.
We need backup. I pull my phone out to call—
Thwip.
The sound of a silencer popping as the bullet whips past my head stops me. Fuck, if they have killed—
Boof.
The world goes black as my phone tumbles from my hand, and my last thought is that Quinn is dead.