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The Impala pulls up to a large mechanical gate, guarded by two men fully loaded with assault gear. It screeches as it opens, allowing the one car in before closing again. But it’s the glowing sign plastered on the side of the warehouse that has my sanity coming apart. Ricci Technology.
“I’m going to kill that asshole,” I growl, fully prepared to crash through that fucking gate.
“We’re five minutes away. Fucking wait!” Matthias yells through the car speakers.
“I don’t give a shit. My wife is in there.”
“Well, we fucking do. You don’t have to do this alone. You saved us. Now let us help save your girl.”
I pull over several hundred feet back and tuck my car behind a shipping container.
“You better fucking hurry.”
“We’re three minutes out” is his only reply.
I scan the area, and there’s a constant stream of men walking behind the gate. I double-check my Glock’s magazine. The seventeen bullets won’t be enough. Matthias is right—I’m going to die the second I walk past those gates. Maybe that’s the entire fucking plan. I click the magazine back in place and get out of the borrowed car.
No, my Little Nymph’s getting out of here. I promised her I’d keep her safe, and I’ll die keeping that promise, but not like some asshole without a plan.
A black SUV pulls up behind me, and my brothers step out, their doors clicking quietly closed. All three of them are decked out in tactical gear.
Bash comes up to me and slaps me on the back. “Fucking asshole. You had me worried you’d steal all the fun.”
“Your sister is hurt in there, and you call this fucking fun?”
He stiffens, his eyes lowering before meeting mine. “Hurting anyone that hurts our family will always be fun. Now, let’s get you geared up.”
I grab my own set of clothes from the tailgate, stripping out of my Armani suit in preference for the black-on-black tactical gear.
My brothers surround me as Matthias pulls up the satellite feed.
“Fucking Christ,” Xander says under his breath, and I grab his shoulder.
“You don’t need to be here.”
He shrugs me off, completely ignoring me.
“Quite the welcome party.” Bash chuckles. “You think they’re expecting us?”
It’s worse than I thought. There are six men at the gate, another forty more walking patrols around the building. There are a few bright spots coming from the darker areas, signaling there are even more men hidden there. But it’s the two gunners on the roof that have the hair on the back of my neck standing up. These aren’t some rich pups dressed up, not with the kind of gear they’re packing. Somehow, the Ricci bastard put together his own mercenary army.
Bash whistles low under his breath. “Getting around those will be fucking tricky.”
Matthias starts handing out weapons from the back of the truck. Two silencers and a knife. We now have thirty-four rounds each, and I like those odds significantly better.
I check both guns over thoroughly before holstering them. Running all possibilities through my head, I pick the one we’re least likely to get killed in.
“We go over the walls and pick off the patrols one by one before they realize we’re here. The more dead men, the better odds we have of getting Misty out of there. There’s no way we’re taking down those gunners. Get close to the building out of their line of sight. Then we just need to worry about who’s left on the ground.”
Matthias puts his hand on Xander’s arm when he cocks his gun. “Even with the silencers, it’s too quiet out here to use the guns.” Matthias holds up his knife, glinting in the low light. “We’re doing this up close and personal for as long as we can. The second they see you, open fire.”
“Use the containers and crates as barriers.” I meet my brothers’ eyes. “Don’t get pinned between them and the gunners. Got it?”
Bash smirks at us. “Be quiet, up close and personal, kill as many as you can, and don’t get mowed down by machine guns. Yeah, I think we got it.”
Xander holsters his gun and grabs one of the extendable ladders. It’s compact, only one foot high when closed, but it’ll go up twenty feet. He tucks it under his arm. “I don’t understand how people don’t remember ladders fucking exist. Bash and I will take the left. You two take the right.”
“Wait.” Matthias hands each of us a microphone to tuck into our ears. “Keep the line clear unless you need help.”
