Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Cullen chuckled, his breathing strained and choppy, and he nodded jerkily. “Not my first rodeo with a TQ.”
That’s what Gray figured.
“Greer, you can take the kid and head for the beach,” Darius directed. “Reese, you’ll go with Crew.”
“Copy—”
A gunshot blasted through the air, catapulting Darius and Greer into action. They darted back into the jungle, from where the rescue team had come, and it took all of Gray’s focus to stay with Cullen.
Through River’s updates, they’d learned that Crew and his partner Lawrence were in high spirits. Dehydrated and a bit malnourished, but with enough strength to be of use.
More gunfire followed. Too many shots to count. It was difficult to estimate the distance in the jungle, but Gray guessed within one hundred feet.
“Motherfuck,” Cullen growled.
Yeah. This shit hurt. Gray tightened the windlass further until the wound stopped bleeding. Then he bit the tip off a bottle of wound cleanser, squeezed it all out over the wound, before he pressed a handful of compresses on top and wrapped gauze around the leg. Last but not least, he checked his watch.
4:14 AM
“This comes off before six AM.” He pointed to the tourniquet and rose from the ground, angling away the flashlight at the same time. “You good to drive?”
He gritted his teeth and nodded once. “Yeah. Where’s my boy? Crew! Get outta there. I fucking swear.”
“Do y’all need backup?” Reese asked, presumably for someone on their communication devices to respond to. While he waited, he turned the ignition on all the ATVs.
Gray declared himself finished with Cullen for now but told him to make sure they ended up on the same helicopter. Then he hurried over to the “kid,” who, in Gray’s defense, didn’t look nineteen.
Fifteen, sixteen—tops.
“My name is Gray. You understand we’re here to bring you home to your parents?” Gray knew the look in the boy’s eyes. He was utterly lost. He hadn’t been treated well either. His clothes were practically in shreds, he was dirty from top to bottom, and his cheeks were sunken in.
Gray wasn’t privy to the details of Crew and Lawrence’s mission, but with the kid having American parents of Mexican heritage, it was easy to make guesses. Cartels didn’t shy away from using children for leverage. Whether Dad belonged to an enemy organization or someone had testified in a courtroom, refusing to be silenced… It could also be a custody battle gone way too far. In Darius’s experience, that was often the case with extractions of children. One parent who left the country with the kid.
“Can you tell me your name?” Gray asked patiently.
The guy looked up at him with a blank expression. At least his reflexes worked; he’d caught the water and the energy bar earlier.
“Um, Marcos,” he croaked. “Am I really going home?”
It was such a relief to hear his voice. “Yes, you are. In fact…Cullen over here is ready to take you down to the beach right now.” He gently ushered Marcos toward Cullen. “We have helicopters waiting for us.”
Cullen managed to swallow his pain and take over. “C’mere, kid. Let’s get you outta here.”
Gray let his flashlight scan the guy quickly, and he didn’t see any physical wounds that needed immediate attention.
“Finally!” Reese snapped impatiently.
Gray looked up to see more men emerging from the jungle. He had to agree with Reese—fucking finally. Darius and Greer were helping…it had to be Crew. He had to be the one who’d twisted his knee on the way down. Ryan stumbled out backward as he peered through the scope of his rifle. Leaving Marcos with Cullen, Gray hurried over to help his future brother-in-law.
With so much background noise, both from the jungle and in their earpieces, Gray hadn’t noticed that the gunfire had ceased.
“Did you get the last ones?” Reese demanded.
“Can’t be sure,” Ryan gritted out. Sweat poured from under his helmet. “Darius got one, I know that much. I took down one too.”
“Greer got one,” Darius stated.
So one could still be out there?
Gray guided Ryan over to an ATV and told him to sit down.
“We gotta clear the area,” Greer said firmly. “Crew and Lawrence—grab one of the ATVs. Straight down to the beach.” He adjusted his earpiece—or changed the channel. “Third group, this is Fin-2. Move out immediately. I will stay behind with DQ and Nolan. Over.”
By now, Gray had cut open Ryan’s shirt enough to inspect the gunshot wound, and he was relieved to see the bullet had mostly grazed him. It was still a flesh wound with blood trickling out steadily, and it was going to bruise up his entire bicep good and proper, but it would heal quickly—once he’d been stitched up, and that would have to wait.
Cullen and Marcos were gone. Crew and Lawrence tore out of there. Reese and Ryan would be next.
“You’ll live,” Gray was happy to announce.