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“Were you at my warehouse?” Solomon snarled, cutting right to the chase.
“What warehouse?”
“Don’t play stupid. I have missing assassins and the video feed has been removed.”
“Are you admitting that you had Rogue take me there and cage me like a fucking animal again?”
“You’re getting out of hand.”
“Why? Because I want a life with Ice?”
“You can’t live a normal life.”
“Fuck you. You’re the twisted motherfucker here, not me or any of my brothers.”
They were told they weren’t allowed in the building and Ice had to smile at that.
“No?”
“No,” the big guard in front of the door said, placing a hand behind him, as if reaching for a weapon.
Ice throat punched him. The impact was hard. And he pile drove the fucker into the ground. The man’s head hit the ground and he gasped in agony…the gun he’d reached for tumbled on the ground. Real was on the other guard almost at the same time. Navy SEALs didn’t fuck around when it came to combat. The guy at Ice’s feet would probably die, but he was far from caring. His only thought was getting to Echo. Inside, he and Real were met with more resistance. And instead of a sneak attack, he was going to need to be more creative.
Twisting on a silencer to the end of his Banish forty-five, he took out the nearest fucker with a shot to the chest. Ice darted forward, shooting the guy in the head as he ran past. Bullets pinged a metal pole. He ducked and fired. Another man went down. Side by side, he and Real worked their way across the warehouse and up the stairs.
At the top, they stopped. That was where they met the most resistance.
Before Ice had time to register, he and Real were fighting five men. They were fucking good. With skills that compared to him and Real. Ice would bet money they were paid assassins.
Grit was suddenly there and Azrael darted up the stairs behind the dog.
“Azrael!” Real growled, but the young assassin didn’t stop.
A man turned on Grit when the big dog lunged and Ice saw the gun come up. He shot the fucker three times before he could get off a shot.
“Grit, down.” The dog dropped to his belly.
It wasn’t hard to miss the noise outside.
Echo watched Solomon’s face change.
“You brought help.”
“Yes.”
“You disappoint me.”
“Like I give a fuck,” Echo said. “Your minutes are numbered.”
Solomon slowly pulled up the gun he was holding. “I don’t want to kill you, but I will if you force my hand.”
The door slammed open behind him.
Fuck!
It wasn’t Ice and Real as he expected.
Azrael stood in the doorway, his eyes wild, his hair hanging in his face. The long-sleeved black t-shirt miles too big for his small frame.
