Archer shoved his arms into a clean shirt and dragged it over the skin that still burned from the imprint of Jolie’s hands. His body hadn’t caught up to the fact that their heated moment was over, and he was just glad Rome hadn’t brought up the obvious bulge in his pants.
He locked all of it down. There wasn’t room for his own thoughts or feelings.
Archer shrugged into his vest, his pulse cold by the time he checked his sidearm. He slammed a magazine into place, shifting from man to operator.
“Move,” Cannon barked.
They moved.
Through the tunnel, they charged one by one, guided by a single bare bulb swinging from the ceiling. Rome reached the heavy metal door first and punched in the code. The door swung open with surprising silence considering the steel and concrete of their surroundings.
They breached the second tunnel leading away from base. A hundred yards out, the softthunkof the chopper blades could be heard. By the time they scrambled out of the side of the mountain into the open, the noise was deafening.
The last man out slammed the door. Archer had only seen it one other time in the daylight and it was cleverly camouflaged to blend into the mountainside. Even an expert hiker would walk right past it if they ever reached this remote side of the private property.
In minutes, they were lifting off, the ground below a deep blue sweep of snow.
The flight out was swift, with all of them locked on Cannon’s voice in their ears.
Armed insurgents were believed to be using an abandoned outbuilding as an outpost for weapons trafficking.
The op turned out to be strange from the get-go.
A jittery lookout from a side position opened fire first, spraying rounds wide before ducking for cover.
A handful of armed men returned fire from inside, their aim too sloppy to hit any target.
“This is chaos.” Rome pitched up beside Archer in a crouch. “They don’t have a plan of attack.”
“They’re not military,” Archer muttered to his team as he rushed in with Rome on his six. He reached a door and pressed his back to the wall. Rome set the charge. Archer held up three fingers, lowering them one by one.
As the third dropped, the charge detonated and the door blew inward. Archer rushed in, weapon raised.
He dropped one hostile and then advanced on another as the team swept the small structure and they neutralized the threat in heartbeats.
The ring of gunfire gave way to silence broken only by the crunch of boots over debris. Archer scanned the room, gaze moving over cheap crates and discarded rations. A makeshift radio setup sat in one corner.
He strode over to where Townie had a man pinned. Younger zip-tied his wrists behind his back and hauled him ruthlessly to his feet. The man reeked of body odor.
“Christ, he stinks.” Younger twisted his face away as he led the man to the wall and forced him to sit with two of his friends.
O began a deep dive on the computer equipment.
Archer walked to the man he’d dropped and began searching him. First he picked up the man’s weapon and released the clip, pocketing it.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Cannon approach. “Anything?”
He swept a look at the man’s clothing. “Gear’s military. No insignia.”
“Probably bought it at the local surplus store.”
“His pockets are clear too. No ID. Nothing to point to any organization.”
Rome didn’t glance away from the man he was guarding. “Looks like a bunch of assholes playing soldier.”
“Maybe.” Younger toed a fallen weapon out of the way. “Or maybe someone wanted it to look that way.” He walked over to the other prisoner slumped against the wall. “What are you doing here?”
The man stared back through a split lip, saying nothing.
