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Tank's grip tightened on his weapon, a terse nod exchanged with his teammates. He cut the engine, letting the boat drift toward the shore silently. As they reached the small jetty, Marshall jumped out of the boat and secured it to a rock on the shore as Landon studied the building for any sign of activity.
“All quiet,” he whispered, the sound coming loud and clear through the tiny earpiece. Their approach was unnoticed, at least for now.
Ryder’s voice came through the comms. “Alpha team is dry. On route to location one.” The other team was docked farther down the beach and hoofing it in.
“Bravo Team is dry,” Tank said, announcing their arrival to the others. “Waiting for your go.”
On Ryder’s word, they disembarked, moving with the precision of a well-honed unit. Tank used hand signals to direct his group as they approached the west entrance.
Joey's voice hummed in Tank's ear. "Find me a way in, boys. Still no eyes on Lowell."
Tank waved Marshall ahead of him as they rounded the corner of a rusted pile of piping near the road, hiding behind it as they watched Ryder’s team reach the east entrance.
“Location one,” Ryder stated. “Linking you to the security pad now.”
Joey muttered as she worked, and Tank used every ounce of patience to resist the urge to charge in guns blazing. His eyes were focused on the door just across the gravel road and it was his way in.
“I’m in,” Joey said. “Give me two more minutes to loop their cameras.”
Tank inhaled sharply. “You’ve got ninety seconds.”
Joey’s undoubtedly sassy reply was cut off by Jackson’s grunt. Tank looked back and saw the other team quickly disarm and take down two Citadel operatives who had come out the east entrance.
If they had the element of surprise, it was possible it had just disappeared. If those guards had been able to signal their team, then Citadel knew they were here.
“You’re clear,” Joey announced with a victorious whoop.
“Move,” Tank commanded. He knew like he knew the sky was blue that all five of the team members would instantly follow the command. “I’ve got eyes on Lowell,” Joey said. “He’s back with Kaylie. Signal is from the northwest corner of the building, but I don’t know what level.”
His team moved through the dimly lit corridors, quickly eliminating the few Citadel personnel they met with a few well-placed shots from his silenced weapon. They reached the stairs and Tank held up a fist.
“Up or down?” Marshall asked.
Tank considered Lowell. “Down.” He shared a glance with Marshall and Connor, their resolve reflected in the steely determination of their eyes. They descended the stairs, their movements choreographed by years of training. The leadman constantly changed as they covered blind spots and kept moving.
Joey's voice, crisp and composed, broke the silence. "Bravo team, you're close.”
“Alpha team is going down too,” Ryder said.
Tank rounded the corner, weapon at the ready. The sight that met his eyes was both expected and chilling—Shane Lowell, a sinister grin playing on his lips, pacing behind a sleek desk. A pair of guns was suddenly pointed at his team by the guards stationed on either side of the entrance.
Tank kept his gun trained at Lowell’s chest as the evil man walked the room. He was completely nonchalant, as though kidnapping, extortion, and an automatic weapon standoff were just another Tuesday evening.
Lowell's eyes flicked up, meeting Tank's gaze. "Well, well, Mr. Olson. I was wondering when you'd drop in."
Kaylie and Lia weren’t in the room, but the random toys on the corner table showed that they’d been there. “Where are they?” he growled. He was talking as much to Joey as he was to Lowell.
Joey’s frantic voice came through his ear. “Her screen is dark. I’m not sure. The signal is right on top of you, though! She’s there.”
Tank's fingers tensed on the trigger, a cascade of emotions—anger, determination, and a hint of anticipation—coursing through him.
Joey's voice echoed in his earpiece. "Citadel forces are swarming on you.” The once quiet corridors now echoed with alarms.
“We’re distracting as many as we can.” Jackson’s voice was in his ear, panting like he’d been running. Or fighting.
“You need to move. Now!" Joey’s command was their trigger.
Time compressed into a heartbeat as Tank, Marshall, and Connor sprang into action. Tank charged toward Lowell, trusting the team behind him to take care of themselves. Lowell’s eyes widened for a second before he bolted toward the wall. One panel shifted, revealing a tunnel before sliding back into place just as quickly.
