“Copy that,” Archer acknowledges.
“It’s going to take us a bit to reach you,” Axel advises, rustling with movement. “We’re fifteen floors above the dockyard.”
“Then you’ll just have to catch up. Oscar, update HQ. Have backup on standby in case we need it. Medical evac too.”
“Medical?” I gasp.
“There’s still a chance Luis may have other victims held here to be exported. Even if he’s decided to cut his losses and relocate already.”
Fiery strands of anger strengthen my spine, allowing all distractions to fall away. I roll my shoulders back as we approach the set of double doors, marked with workplace warning signs.
Stepping through the entrance, a rudimentary reception area with badly poured concrete floors houses a sole security guard. The pudgy-faced man immediately stands when he sees us barging in, his eyes bulging at our guns.
“What the…?”
“Easy.” Warner quickly trains his gun on him. “We have a warrant.”
“Who are you people?”
“Sabre Security. Put your hands up.”
“You can’t just barge in here!”
“Sir, I need you to stand down. This is now an active crime scene.”
“I’m calling?—”
At the sight of him reaching for the walkie-talkie on his cluttered desk, Blaine erupts into movement. He disregards Warner’s yell, launching across the room to elegantly vault the man’s desk.
Shouting emanates from the fast-moving tangle of limbs as the two men grapple. Hyland grabs the walkie-talkie when we close the distance, peering down at the floor where Blaine has the poor sod restrained with an arm pinned behind his back.
“Madden.” Warner sighs.
“Do you want anyone to know we’re here?”
“Get off me!” the man screeches. “I’ll call the police!”
Blaine yanks his arm higher, slapping a hand over the man’s mouth to silence his scream. “We are the fucking police.”
Damn. I do not find this hot.
If I repeat it enough, I may believe it.
When Blaine looks up at me and winks, I nearly lose my panties. My eye roll earns me a dirty grin next. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and the asshole is proud of it.
Taking the handcuffs that Hyland tosses at him, I watch Blaine trap the guard in place. His proficiency at securing handcuffs with only one hand is far too intriguing.
“Where should we put him?” Warner muses aloud as his eyes scan our surroundings.
Josh turns to study the barebones space. “Perhaps…”
CRACK.
With little ceremony, Blaine smashes the guard’s skull against the concrete, turning his limbs to jelly. Blood trickles down his unconscious face, causing a stream of choice words to spill from Warner.
“We’re operating within the confines of the law, Madden!”
“You are,” he agrees. “I’m here to get the job done.”
