Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
But it’s her. At that thought, the wind feels knocked out of me yet again. Evan’s hand slaps down on my shoulder as if he can sense the change. “We’ll be in and out, and she’ll be all right,” he says, his calm voice even and consoling. His brow rises as he waits for me to agree, staring back and not showing an ounce of nervousness. “She’ll be in your arms in minutes and in your bed later tonight,” he says, then lets out a huff of a laugh and it forces me to smile.
“Yeah.” I nod and pretend it’s all going to be all right.
The clouds ahead wash the entire sky in gray. The sun’s setting soon and the dim lighting is on our side, but not so much that I’m certain we’ll make it to the entrance without being seen.
“I’ll go first,” I say and nod, staring at the open field. I point to the trees where I can vaguely see a mound of dirt that stands out as if it doesn’t belong. Before I can even question if he sees it too, Evan’s already nodding his head.
“You’ll need these,” Evan adds, slipping a bolt cutter into my hands. “Anything else you can think of?” Without hesitation, I shift the cold metal tool into the back of the holster at my waist.
One deep breath and heat licks across my skin. Another and I silently give the motion, and then the order to follow.
My pace is steady and my motions as stealthy as they can be. I creep down to the field and hurry along the edge in the shadows until I come to the end of it. Pausing, and waiting for Evan, I scan the perimeter, listening to the wildlife in the distance. It’s a challenge, though, to hear a damn thing with the blood rushing in my ears.
A quick nod and another signal, then I sprint out to the mound, not covered by a damn thing and knowing full well Evan may cry out and bullets could fly.
Not a single noise ricochets in the air. Nothing at all as I remove the dried and dead brush, seeing the shiny metal lock and the two-by-two-foot panel that covers the opening. It’s not dusty or covered in cobwebs, and that’s a damn good sign they’re still here.
My muscles are tensed and coiled as I hunch down and break the lock with the bolt cutters. A single groan leaves me, the sound carrying through the night along with the sharp crack of broken metal. My heart hammers as I wait a second and then another before pulling the metal loose and dropping it to the dirt with a soft thud. Standing higher, I motion over my shoulder, making eye contact with Evan and keeping a lookout over the horizon as he runs toward me.
Cold sweat lingers on my skin as he comes up behind me and I open the panel, my gun drawn and ready for anything, but all that awaits is a tight stairwell, aged and weathered from decades of uncontrolled heat and humidity.
I head down first and drop to my ass at the sound of a ping as a bullet whips by and ricochets off the rusted metal wall.
Fuck!
Bang, bang, another gun fires and I push myself against the wall, firing back before I can even look.
Evan calls down as I search in the darkness and spot a man running around the right side of a dark and chilled tunnel.
He’s dressed all in black but his figure is easy to make out as he takes off and I instinctively chase after him.
I can’t lose him. He may be the only one who came looking with a sensor or security alarm of some sort alerting him. If we can get the rest of them by surprise, that’s far more appealing than allowing this fucker to give them a heads-up.
“FBI,” Evan calls out and I grit my teeth. There’s not a word or warning that comes from me as I lift my gun and fire.
My first shot strikes his shoulder and as he falls forward, the man screaming, another behind him stares back wide eyed from the other end of the dingy hall.
His expression is full of shock and I fire again, the handgun’s grip sending a jolt to my palms as I pull the trigger again and again. Before the second man has a chance to react, I’ve shot him in the chest twice and the first man is silenced with another shot in his back.
“Walsh.” Evan’s voice comes from behind me and isn’t the usual tone. There’s a skepticism and I’m certain it’s because I haven’t followed protocol. I turn to face him, half-ashamed about my next move, half-eager to get it over with.
“Was he even armed?” he questions and I let my expression mirror his as it morphs from hardened determination to a look of disbelief. As he walks ahead of me to examine their bodies, I strike Evan in the back of the head, just behind his ear. The blow lands with a thud and a crack.