Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“These fuckers didn’t arrive to an empty house.” Elliott came to the same conclusion I did. They’d had people here already. “Crew and Ortega, do a quick sweep of the main house, then we’ll retreat to—” He stopped abruptly as a man stormed out from a room, and I killed him with a shot to the head. “Retreat to secure the warehouse!”
“Way ahead of you,” Crew panted. “No hostages in here!”
That was all I needed to know. “Move out!”
“Joel, wait outside,” he replied quickly. I heard him in my ear as much as I heard him coming down the hall around the corner. “I was hoping I’d get to do this. Ortega?”
“Out back!” Ortega answered.
“Main house clear of our guys.” Crew ran out toward me, and he threw a hand grenade behind him before he pushed me out the door. “Take cover!”
We darted out of the way and dove behind a car, just a second or two before an explosion went off.
“We’re not done!” Crew jumped to his feet, holding another grenade. “High-caliber rifle, baby. I throw, you shoot.”
Fucking hell—he was a genius.
I lifted my rifle once more and nodded to him. He threw the grenade toward the roof of the house, and I squeezed the trigger. Sucking in a sharp breath, I pushed Crew down on the ground again as the roof lit up with fire and got blasted with shrapnel. Shrapnel that blew out the windows of three nearby cars as well.
“Fuck, that was cool!” Crew yelled.
Adrenaline pumped through me, sharpening my focus, and I spun around and looked for Elliott. He must’ve joined the others at the warehouse. I knew he’d left the main house before me.
“Estimated twenty hostages, ten hostiles!” Reese shouted. “All focus on the warehouse!”
“Marisa and Blake are here!” River panted. “Fuck picking Carillo out of a lineup—kill every cartel bastard you see!”
Blake! My heart jumped up into my throat, and Crew and I sprinted across the courtyard.
“No calls to law enforcement yet, but it won’t be long,” Ramirez reported.
“We need bolt cutters in here!” Elliott growled. “Joel!”
“Gray—”
“On my way! Shay, stay here.”
“Screw that,” Shay snapped.
“Goddammit!” Reese wasn’t happy.
Crew and I tore into the warehouse, each of us aiming and firing at two men darting toward us.
The lights flickered in the vaulted ceiling.
A beat later, it felt like all the air was sucked out of my lungs as I took in the scene. Probably twenty or twenty-five closed metal cages sat on the concrete floor, the confinements large enough to hold a grown man. No bars or grids—the walls were metal sheets, with little holes for breathing.
It took me a moment to realize I was hearing cries and whimpers and pleas for help.
Nausea and rage crawled up my throat. I threw aside my rifle and gripped both my handguns instead. The gunfire didn’t rain nonstop anymore, but we had more men to take down. They were hiding, some of them. I could feel it. The tension could be cut with a knife—
“Elliott!” That was a woman’s voice. It came from the back, where I spotted River as well. Elliott had to be there too, though I couldn’t see him for all the crates and shit.
“We have Marisa!” Elliott yelled. “I’m gonna help you out, honey. Hold on.”
Reese and I exchanged a quick look as we continued searching for other threats. Because there were plenty of hiding spots. The sides of the warehouse were filled with boxes and shelving units and pallets.
Another shot rang out, and then Ortega came running in, gaze wild.
“Ortega’s here,” I said, knowing Elliott would hear.
Before I knew it, Gray and Darius came running in too, followed by Shay.
Not seeing any immediate threats, I hurried to the back and finally spotted Elliott. He was helping Marisa out of a semi-barred cage. Her hair was greasy and matted, her dress filthy and torn in places. Oh my God. My lungs burned as I walked closer to another cage. Elliott handed a sobbing Marisa over to Ortega, then promptly shot open a lock on the cage I couldn’t look away from. Rusty metal, thick walls, tiny holes—
“Javi,” Marisa cried. “Oh, Javi. You came.”
My eyes welled up.
“Adrien and I will do a perimeter check,” Crew reported. “Ryan, what’s your status?”
I tore out the earpiece, left with a ringing sound in my ears, and yet…I heard her cry. She was in there. My sweet, goofy, hell-raisin’ baby girl was trapped inside a rusty fucking cage.
“Almost, darling,” Elliott said thickly. He fired at the second of three locks, and I aimed at the third.
“Start cutting the locks! Crew! River and I will join you,” Reese said. “Ramirez, can you get Coach online? There’s no way we can be ghost here. There are too many hostages. Mercier, you might wanna start makin’ calls. We’ll need all the help we can get.”