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“Let’s go,” D barks out, heading toward the front door before the image has even cleared enough to be able to take out a building. It could be anything.
Link hesitates for three seconds, his eyes locked on the screen, but the second he agrees, he slams it closed and marches right out behind Dawson, Cruz falling into step beside him, quickly followed by us.
“Get ready, boys,” Cruz says as we head into the trees, ready to make our way to this building hopefully unnoticed. “We’re about to put a dent in the Wolves’ pack.”
Pulling out the gun Cruz ensured we all had before we arrived from my waistband, I let my fingers flex around the handle, wishing it was mine.
It doesn’t feel right, and I need everything to be fucking perfect right now if I stand any chance of fixing all this shit.
Blowing out a long breath, I push all my concerns aside.
I’ve been shooting with damn near perfect precision since I was a kid. Who gives a fuck whose gun it is? Who I’m protecting with it is more important.
Trust your instincts, Theodore.
Trust your training.
Dad’s words ring out loud and clear in my head.
Moving faster, I step up beside Dawson and Cruz as a building begins to appear through the trees in the distance.
“They probably already know we’re coming."
“So we’re either expecting heavy fire, or they’ve already run like pussies,” I suggest.
“I’d put money on the latter,” Cruz mutters. “Wolfe loves his pretty face too much to risk getting it shot at.”
“As long as they’ve not taken her with them,” D adds.
“We’ll get her, bro. Don’t sweat it,” Cruz says lightly, much to Dawson’s irritation.
“Can you at least try to take this more seriously? We’ve not just lost her favourite teddy, this is my fucking daughter we’re talking about.”
“Take it seriously? Are you fucking shitting me, man? That girl means as much to me as she does to you. We’re getting her back in one piece.”
We fall silent as we come to a stop, still hidden by the trees and thick undergrowth.
The others step up behind us, but my eyes don’t waver from the building, desperate to see some movement. To see her.
“Ready?” Dawson barks out.
“Let’s go.”
Both D and Cruz step forward, their bodies in perfect sync despite not having worked together in this capacity in years, maybe even ever, until recently.
I think back briefly to the day they turned up at my flat both covered in blood and wonder if they were as seamless with whoever they beat the shit out of that day.
Probably.
Twigs snap and old leaves rustle as we all emerge from the trees and spread out, ready to cover the entire building in the hope of stopping anyone from leaving.
Movement in one of the windows catches my eye a second later than Cruz’s, and the pop of his shot echoes through the silence.
“If they didn’t know we were here before, then they really do now. Let’s go get our girl.”
The second I get to a door, I lift my foot and slam it into the old, weathered wood.
Immediately, it swings open, revealing an old kitchen beyond.
