I never saw Theo and Justin coming; especially not after the fuck up that was Chase. Now that I have them, I’m not giving them up. So, they better not fucking die on me today.
Just as I’m about to expire from boredom, I hear voices and hold my breath as the doors open. The pilot and co-pilot jump in, followed by the others. Thewhoomphof the blades start up amongst the sounds of seat belts and helmets being put on.
A few minutes later, my stomach dives as we lift into the air, and a grin stretches across my face.Hold on, Dutch, we’re coming.
Nate Bannerman
The energy inside the black SUV is mixed. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, I notice Tessa flipping the knife we gave her. Jase is tense, his mouth pulled into a hard line, his fingers tapping his laptop as he stares out the window. Eric tries to keep the mood light, and I love him for it, but I swear to God if he makes one more joke I’m going to pull the car over … I let out a sigh. I can’t do anything about it, not with Jase here.
I narrow my eyes at him, but he just ignores me, a bratty smile threatening to break out across his face. It’s a good thing he’s so hot. I lift a brow. Of course, he’s even hotter when I’m punishing his ass.
As if he can tell what I’m thinking, his smile grows, even as he studiously looks out the window.
When I get my hands on him later, he’ll be in so much trouble.
When we arrive, the sun is just beginning to peer over the horizon, spreading tendrils of pinks and oranges shooting across the sky. Jase and Tessa perk up as we turn onto the road. I slow the SUV to thirty miles per hour and drive steadily past the gates. “Cameras mounted on the gates,” Jase informs us.
“And there were two guards just inside them,” Eric adds.
We keep driving, not wishing to look suspicious. About half a mile past the gates, I turn the car’s lights off and turn right into the forested land surrounding the compound. My hands flex on the steering wheel, my chest growing tight. It’s been way too long since I’ve killed someone, and my demon grows restless. I can’t remember the last time I took someone’s life with my bare hands, felt their blood splash across my face.
Fuck. It couldn’t be, could it? Was the last time really when the three of us killed Tessa’s Uncle David? That was fucking months ago. London and the mass gassing was too impersonal for me to count. No wonder I feel like I’m going to burst out of my skin.
Dark energy begins to surge through me, and I grit my teeth, holding it at bay.Soon,I mutter to it.It’s not time yet.
Once we’ve arrived at the far corner of the wall, I switch the car off, breathing deeply, trying desperately to remain calm. Eric’s shoulders are tense, his teeth tightly clenched. When our eyes lock, I know we’ll both be relishing in the bloodshed. There better be plenty of guards to kill.
Tessa unhooks her seatbelt and leans forward, placing a hand on both our shoulders. Letting out a shuddering breath, I feel a faint measure of calm wash over me. Enough to pay attention to what we’re supposed to be doing.
Jase and Eric get out, unloading the three drones from the trunk space. They soar up into the air, high enough not to be noticed, but low enough to get decent photos. Once they’re back, Jase loads the pictures, and we quickly scan through them. I count thirty men patrolling the grounds, and we don’t know how many are inside.
Pulling out my cell, I make a quick call. “Ryan, it’s Nate. We’re stationed in the far-right corner along the wall’s perimeter, around half a mile east of the gates, by a quarter of a mile north. We’re currently counting thirty guards on the grounds.”
“Roger. We’re five minutes away. Stay at your location until you hear the first bomb detonation. We’ll be taking out the front gates. Switch to radio and wait for further orders.”
“Yessir.”
Jase scrambles the phone lines and cell phone tower. No one in the area is going to be able to use them for the next few hours.
“Listen,” Tessa says, a wide grin growing across her face. She’s just as ready for this as we are. We can hear the faint sounds of the helicopters approaching.
It’s showtime.
Ryan Grant
I’ve missed flying these babies. Kian sits beside me in the Apache, bouncing on the seat with barely suppressed energy. Explosives are on the menu today, so for him, it may as well be Christmas morning.
I know my mood has been sour since The Duke was taken. My dreams have been filled with nightmares of the tortures Vincenzo might be subjecting her to. I haven’t been a pleasure to be around, and I count myself lucky to have Jase and Kian as both colleagues and friends.
Cruz too, which I find myself surprised to admit. I wasn’t too sure about him at first, but he’s a damn fine swordsman, a good workout partner, and I would even cautiously say, friend?
I don’t know what life is going to hold for Dutch and Cruz once this is all over, but if they ever want a job with the Charon Group, it’s theirs.
Bringing my thoughts back to the present, I realize we’re only a few minutes out, the other helicopter trailing behind us. I want to take out the gates first, to let them believe we’re coming in that way. Although the Apache can be fitted with all sorts of high-tech weaponry, we’re being cautious. We don’t want to accidentally blow up the house and kill everyone in it.
After I give Nate his orders, Vincenzo’s house—if you can call this monstrosity something as simple as a house—appears in front of us. “Ready?” I ask Kian.
He grins at me through his helmet, his eyes taking on that sheen of crazy he gets. “Ready.”
