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“You were too busy ogling Brie every chance you got,” quipped Caye.
“I wasn’t ogling; I was gazing lustfully.”
Caye laughed. “Point taken. You okay with this?” The latter was directed at Brie.
“I won’t say I like it, but it does make the most sense.”
“Where do you want me?” asked Winter.
Everyone stepped back from the table except Colby, who knew he was going to have to deal with the explosion that was about to come.
“Oh no,” snarled Winter. “You are not sidelining me because of Sean. Get the sonofabitch on the phone.”
“I would never betray you that way, and you know it,” said Colby. “I need someone here to hold the abbey. Strode may already be planning another strike and if not, he may well have plans to launch one if we attack.”
“Leave Brie. She’s your beta.”
“Which would be why she’s with me. Besides, the men here all know you. They’ve fought with you before and they won’t think twice about following your orders. I’m also going to need you to monitor the trackers. If you see anything that gives you pause, you get the info to me and Hayden. He’ll be leading one strike team; I’ll be leading the other.”
“Ah, fuck,” said Winter resignedly.
She might be angry about not being in the thick of it, but what he’d said made sense, and they both knew it.
“Kyra is going to want to know the details as soon as we’re in the air and headed back. I’ll call you, and then you can call my sister…”
“If you’d call Fallon, as well, I’d appreciate it,” said Hayden.
“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll pass the good news, but I’m telling both of you right now, if you make me call either of those women with news that you’re dead, I’m going to get Caye to help me chase you down in hell and bring you back so you can explain it to them.”
Both Hayden and Colby chuckled. “Good enough.”
They waited until the sun began to set and put on black, protective clothing. They also donned traditional ninja head coverings—the zukin, which was a hood-like covering, and a fukumen, which covered most of their face except their eyes. Each person was equipped with a two-way communicator and a tracker sewn into their body covering. Dressed for battle, they boarded the gunship and headed toward Lundy Island, coming in close over the water with the sun at their backs.
They landed on Strode’s nicely manicured lawn. In fact, they landed in his flower beds so that the door to the chopper opened right at the stairs leading to the enormous double doors. Colby and Hayden charged up the steps, kicking in the doors. Those inside the house watched with looks of surprise and then recognition as the strike force threw the flashbangs inside. The flashbangs exploded with horrible flashes of light, a lot of noise and even more smoke.
From the upper landing, some of Strode’s men started to move in, but they were no match for Hayden and his team as they met face on. There were four men moving towards them, and although Hayden had not fought with Colby’s men before, Brie had, and she and Hayden blended in with the unit, fighting in formation that suggested years and years of training and practice.
Strode’s chambers were on the ground floor, and they were counting on him having retired to have his dinner alone. There were French doors that led to the outside, but Colby’s team and Caye were covering that. Caye too had fought side-by-side with his men, and they knew the lethal skills she brought to the fight.
Colby sprinted down the hall, crashing through Strode’s door and looking around for his opponent. The curtains fluttered only a second before Strode lunged out at him, his arms reaching for Colby’s throat. Colby had been in many close quarters fights over the years, and his reflexes and training kicked in. Colby stepped to the side and let Strode crash into the door, which made him roar with pain and frustration.
“Come on, Strode, you can do better than that.”
“I am Apophis, lord of the dragons, and you will bend the knee to me.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are? I’m not bending the knee to anyone, least of all you. Twice you’ve attacked me and mine. There won’t be a third time.”
Colby dodged Strode again and wondered how he’d ever risen to be the leader of the Shadow League. He considered again the idea that perhaps Strode was a figurehead and not the puppet master they had believed him to be. Perhaps there was someone else pulling all the strings? Strode lunged again, clawing at Colby, who raised his arm, blocked Strode’s meager attempts at aggression, and shoved him into the wall.
He had to give Strode one thing—what he lacked in skill and strength, he made up in relentlessness and fitness. He came at Colby again and again, but he lacked the precision, agility, and grace of a lethal predator—all traits Colby possessed in abundance. With each successful evasion, Colby was able to watch and analyze Strode’s strengths and weaknesses, looking for his greatest vulnerability.
With adrenaline and fury coursing through his veins in a deadly cocktail, Colby began to narrow and sharpen his focus. As Caye and his men crashed through the French doors from the outside, Strode lunged toward Colby again. Anticipating the move, Colby grasped Strode on either side of his head and whirled him around, twisting his neck and snapping it in an instant—the cry of pain and acknowledgement of his own death suddenly silenced forever.
Caye leaned down and appeared to reach into Strode’s body, jerking a flimsy, pale shadow of the man from his mortal and corporeal remains. Shifting into a hellhound, she tore what Colby could only guess was Strode’s soul into four or five pieces before shifting back.
As Hayden handed her his shirt, she started, “I banish you to the shadowlands…”
“No. Allow me to put him on the express to never-ending nothingness,” said Adriana, who was standing in the doorway. She raised her face towards the sky, but instead of howling like a wolf, she let out the shrill cry of the banshees.
