And if Idohave a full-on meltdown, which is the main reason Cain threw a fit about coming with us, I have a whole team of support to pick me up and carry me home.
I don’t let myself overthink the remaining descent into the basement. I move fast, focusing on the heavy steel in my hands and the supportive buzz of familiar voices in my ear.
A shot fires at me when I reach the bottom. I spin back behind a stone wall, hissing at the pain in my bicep.
“You good?” Cain demands.
There’s a burning sensation in my arm, and when I glance down, I see a streak of blood where a bullet grazed me. If Cain knew I’d been shot, he’d pull me out.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
I charge around the wall and fire off shots as I rush into what looks like old service tunnels for the station.
A yellow overhead light flickers ahead, giving me a view of Gabriel when he darts beneath it. The sheer panic contorting his features makes me want to laugh.
“What the fuck do you want from me?” His ragged voice reverberates through the tunnels. “You want money? I can give you money. You want drugs? I’ll hook you up for life.”
I fight back the urge to shout out the word “justice”. Seems a little early to make light of the situation and pretend I’m Batman. If I want to be a professional, I have to act like it.
And I have to do my fucking job.
Like the boogeyman, I stalk Gabriel into a small electrical room. He raises his gun at me, but I shoot it out of his hand before he can fire, blasting off two of his fingers. His screams are music to my ears.
“What I want is you dead,” I say, sinking a bullet through his eye.
His head snaps back, but just like with Mason, I shoot again. I keep shooting until I unload my magazine. It’s a waste of bullets, but I’m convinced he can feel the pain of each shot I bury into his skull.
Isaac and I talked about this moment. What to expect when this all came to an end. When my abuser and the crime lord responsible for capturing and distributing children were dead.
We’d done our best to prepare for my panic attacks. For my fear and sadness and emptiness. But all I feel right now is rage. It’s not enough. Bullets aren’t enough. One body isn’t enough. Mason’s corpse isn’t enough. Not when so many fucking kids suffered.
That destructive part of me rears its ugly head, demanding I burn it all down.
“Ezra, are you there?” Cain’s voice comes over the comm.
I press the button on my earpiece. “Gabriel’s dead.”
“You’re a superstar,” Rev cuts in. “You need Cain to limp in there and rescue you?”
My smile is weak. “No, but would you be opposed to me setting the place on fire?”
Laughter erupts on the comm system from multiple people.
“Get your ass out here, and we’ll get you all the gasoline you want.”
Heart still pounding, I sling my rifle over my shoulder and rush out of the basement like demons are clawing at my heels.
Rev meets me at the back doors with two cans of gasoline. Two more are already lined up against the building.
“Was this the plan all along?” I ask, cocking a brow.
“Nah, but it’s all good. Government approved of us wiping out Gabriel’s operation. And the city’s scheduled to demolish the building. Two birds with one stone.”
“But gasoline?”
Rev shrugs. “I don’t think Cain will let me have the corner office if I let you play with C4.”
I can’t help but crack a toothy grin.
