Chapter 26 Wylder
WYLDER
“Of course these assholes are working out of a yacht,” Neo says with a roll of his eyes.
He leans forward to get a better view of the upcoming marina, the Medieval helmet Cade gave him on his lap.
I’m not certain it’s going to give him the best protection, but given I don’t intend on him actually getting anywhere near these fuckers, it’ll do.
Samson is driving our SUV, and Matthias, Cade, and Harley are in the one immediately behind us.
We got the go-ahead message from Dante earlier in the day, so we’re locked and loaded.
Each of us is stocked with weapons, our bodies covered in armor, our faces covered in black paint. We’re going in invisible.
With the help of Neo, we’ll be ghosts.
He sits back and pulls open his laptop, putting the helmet on his head and clacking away as we park under the cloak of darkness.
“I’ll be in their systems in a few minutes. And then you’ll be ready to go.”
Samson presses the radio, letting the other car know what’s going on.
“Righto,” Harley chirps back. “Over.”
“That kid is way too soft for his own good,” Samson grumbles. “He’s gonna get himself killed one day.”
“No, he won’t. Soft doesn’t mean less lethal. He’s just as dangerous as you. If anyone is going to get someone killed, it’s going to be you on an off day.”
Neo starts humming slightly, and I glance back at him. He looks ridiculous, all done up in body armor and that metal helmet. But it’s the only way I feel safe. It helps that the vehicles are also bulletproof.
And Neo won’t be stepping foot outside of it. It was the only way I would agree to let him accompany us.
We’ll be fine.
It has to be fine.
“I’m in,” Neo says triumphantly. “Looping the CCTV now. Then I’ll deactivate any alarms.”
Samson hops out and pops the trunk, strapping guns and ammunition onto himself.
Everyone else does the same. Except me. Instead, I turn around and glance at Neo, taking him in.
His blue hair is peeking out from the lip of the helmet, his body wiggling as he types, the scrunch of his brows as he focuses.
“You promise you’ll stay put?” I ask.
He blinks up at me before his eyes narrow. “Seriously? You interrupted my genius for that?”
That’s not an answer, and he knows it. I glare at him until he rolls his eyes and tells me what I need to hear. “I promise. Now go. Kill the bastards so I can go to bed. I’m tired.”
My lips curl up slightly, and I lean back through the front two seats to grab hold of his shirt. He gives a quick squeak as he catches his laptop from sliding off his lap, but it dissolves into a sigh as I take his mouth with mine.
After kissing him breathless, I reluctantly pull away. “Do not leave this car. Do not get yourself killed. I mean it. I will be very upset if you do.”
He knocks his knuckles on the metal helmet and rolls his eyes. “I’ll be fine. I have my very sturdy helmet.”
I chuckle and then step out of the SUV, moving to grab another pistol and a semi-automatic rifle. I want them easily accessible when we breach the dock and the yacht. I want to be able to set this entire thing up on fire so I can go back to life without looking over my shoulder.
Or as much as I can, anyway. Being The Firm always comes with danger.
I just don’t want it to be the Umbra.
Hopefully it ends tonight.
My monster growls in approval. He’s been quiet lately, his urges and needs satiated by Neo.
My Neo.
His voice in my ear bursts to life.
“I’m in, guys. Alarms are disabled. You’re good to go in one minute. Over.”
Everyone converges, guns drawn. Even Samson has one in his hand. It just goes to show that we can’t fuck this up, that we need to make sure this ends tonight.
They came for what’s ours. We’ll watch them burn beneath the moonlight.
Neo is on our comms, directing us, his voice a calming balm for my nerves. I’m always like this when I’m on a mission, but usually the job isn’t personal. They’re just tasks, things we need to do to rack up favor and fortune.
But this time we’re doing it for revenge.
“I’m looping the guys in, by the way. The ones back at the house,” Neo says.
My feet falter as Cade swears beside me. I touch my earpiece. “What?”
“They insisted, and I don’t blame them. They want to make sure you’re safe.” Neo hesitates. “Jackson was the one who rallied for it. He was quite adamant.”
Dalton tenses, but his gaze doesn’t veer from the scope on his gun. We move silently down the pier, the lights having been shut off by Neo thirty seconds ago. There are no other lights except the ones in the tinted windows of the yacht.
“I see heat signatures. Ten in total. Two up top, four on the main deck, and the rest belowdecks,” Neo says.
I can hear them. Confused shouts ring out as those on board try to figure out what’s going on with the electrics. The chaos is a good sign. It suggests their training is inferior to ours.
Not a surprise, really. I doubt there’s another group on earth that went through what we did. Add in the familial ties and loyalty to one another, and you’re left with one thing.
An unstoppable force.
On my signal, we split up—Cade, Harley, and Samson moving up, and Dalton, Matthias, and me moving down.
We’re wraiths, moving through the darkness, seeking out our targets.
Muted gunshots ring out above us. Seconds later, there are muffled thuds and splashes as bodies hit the water. There’s no other sound. Not a single scream as my brothers clear the upper decks.
That was easy.
Dalton finds the door to the lower deck and leads the way down. Halfway, he lifts his hand, and we stop, listening.
Neo is silent on the other end of the line, letting us focus.
It calms me knowing he’s safe. That, although he’s close, he’s far enough away from this to not be in danger.
Dalton lets his arm fall, and we move, our guns trained ahead as our fingers slide against the triggers. Six men whirl in our direction, guns raised, as panicked shouts fill the air.
They don’t have time to get off a single shot. We take them down quickly, their bodies dropping to the ground like marionettes with their strings cut.
We fan out, checking the faces of all the bodies. We’ve all memorized Gordon Marino’s picture.
He’s not one of them.
The door flies open, and our guns swing toward it. It’s just Samson, taking up the entire frame. “All dead. You?”
“Yeah,” Cade says, looking almost disappointed. “I didn’t even get to use my garrote cord.”
He holds it out, and Samson shrugs. “Could always lop one of their heads off with it. They’re dead anyway. They won’t miss it.”
Cade stares down at the bodies like he’s considering it, and I shake my head. “Absolutely not.”
“Spoilsport.”
I purse my lips. “Did you find him?”
“No.” Samson frowns. “Shit, I was assuming he was down here.”
I shake my head. “Fuck. He’s not here.”
“Maybe that’s why it was so easy,” Dalton muses. “For a so-called syndicate, this was far easier than it should’ve been.”
There’s a nagging itch between my shoulders.
It was easy.
Too easy.
Just as taking down the three on our estate was.
The hair rises on the back of my neck. “I don’t like this.”
“Wylder’s right,” Matthias says, cocking his pistol. “This feels like a setup.”
Fuck.
“Get off the boat. Get off the fucking boat now!” Neo’s voice is frantic in my ear. Desperate. “Move, move, move!”
None of us question him. We don’t hesitate. We bolt for the doors. I dive overboard a split second before a blast of heat sears me.
I’m unconscious before I hit the water.