“I’m going,” I tell Domino, taking one last glance at Milly before I look up. His keys are already dangling from his fingertips.
“Figured. Go get your girl’s kid.”
I don’t tell him he’s wrong; there isn’t any time. I just grab the keys, jog over to his ride, and start her up before I follow in line and head toward Ollie.
I’m bringing that kid home, and his home is with Milly and us.
We park our bikes outside a group of warehouses the signal led us to. We estimate that we’re about ten minutes behind the assholes. Flint’s already in the air with drones, but he can’t get a read on how many are in this place.
I get off the bike, changing the clip out of my gun for a new one I had at the ready.
“Here,” Kooper says. I look up and catch the shotgun he tosses at me. “Took the liberty of restocking our shit before we left. Not much, only what was close.”
I nod in gratitude as I see him toss an extra set of guns to both Law and the prospect—who still doesn’t have shoes on. Not sure how it feels to ride for as long as we did barefoot, but the guy’s got my vote to get in no matter which way this goes.
“You and Kooper go around the side. I’ll take the prospect and go through the front. We’ll meet in the middle,” Law declares.
“We going in hot?” Kooper asks, but I pay him no mind. I plan to shoot any fucker who gets in my way, and I don’t give a fuck if it makes noise or not.
“Only go silent if you think it’ll help in securing the kid. Otherwise, take out as many fuckers as you can. Flint already has the boys on the way. We don’t need to have all the fun if we can leave some for them to get some revenge on.”
With that, Law and the prospect go one way, and we go the other.
I’ve done enough seek-and-destroy missions that it comes second nature with Kooper at my six. I might not have trained with him exclusively for the past year, but he knows his shit and keeps up. Guy was a fucking diplomatic security agent before he came to us. He knows how to clear a place and look for civilians at the same time.
We find the side door locked. Koop takes his knife out to jimmy the lock, but we don’t have time for that, so I just shoot the damn thing.
“Or option number two,” he deadpans as I kick the door open and scan the area before I walk in.
No one comes running, so we keep going down the hallway, checking each door. If it’s locked, we keep moving. We can come back to the locked ones after we clear the others. Koop keeps a look back to make sure no one comes out behind us.
At the end of the hall, we slow as the room opens completely. We move past the crates of who the fuck knowswhat and then still when I see what’s in the center of the room.
Ollie. Kid’s fucking strapped to a chair with tape over his mouth. Nothing else is around him for a good twenty feet.
A trap if I ever saw one.
I look around and see no one. I notice there’s an overhang, and I’m not stupid enough to think it’s empty.
Ollie sees me, and I’ll give it to the kid. He barely moves to give me away as we lock eyes, but he confirms my suspicions as he looks up and around. A good indicator if ever there was one.
I nod to Koop, and he goes in the opposite direction of me as we spread out, checking behind each crate to make sure we’re alone. As I take each step, I keep my eyes up and start seeing the fucking problem. At least a dozen men are up top and strapped.
“No need to hide, Hound.” The boom of a voice has me looking around and seeing speakers. “We know you’re here.”
I wait a beat, but no one speaks up again, so I decide to give my position away and speak up for the group. I haven’t seen Law and the prospect, so I can only assume they aren’t able to reveal themselves.
I stay behind a crate as I look up. I’m directly below a corner, so I see about three-quarters of what’s above me. “And yet we didn’t invite you to our place.”
“A shame, I’m sure. Maybe next time you’ll take my inquiry with all due haste.”
“Ivan,” I confirm and receive a chuckle in response.
“Dah. So smart for a puppy. Maybe I shouldn’t let my men kill all of you. I might want to keep a mutt or two.”
“Show yourself.” I move, looking for my target. I’d give anything to put a bullet between this asshole’s eyes.
“Such manners.” He tsks over the speakers. “Something I’ll have to train you on, I see. One does not make demands, dog boy. One accepts rules.”
