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For the first time that I could remember, there was panic in his voice. “What. Happened.”
“Chaos. She’s gone.”
* * *
I slammed my hand on the dashboard. I should have never agreed to allow her to go to the hospital. The fact the assholes had returned to finish the job was ballsy, even in the middle of the night. While I was just assuming that’s what had happened, Sanchez and my other soldier losing her in the chaos that had ensued after Vincheti flat-lined, my gut had yet to fail me.
Diez was in town, and he’d ordered her capture.
Her voicemail was almost garbled given her utter horror of what her father had relayed, but I’d heard enough noises in the background to have an idea where she’d been taken. While she might have been promised in some sick new deal made, I doubted either Colombian wanted her as anything but payback.
That meant her life was on the line.
“You’re sure about this?” Sanchez asked for the second time. I was furious with him, but given the circumstances, at least their lack of security was understandable.
To a point.
"If I’m wrong, she’s dead. Then this city will never be the same.” I slapped a fresh clip of ammunition into my Sig, squeezing my hand around the cold, hard steel. The bastards would pay dearly for what they’d done. Our largest target at this point was the new warehouse, half of the supplies leaving in two days. While the location was secret, there were always ways of finding out information.
He drove like a bat out of hell, three other vehicles following us, four more groups of soldiers dispatched. However, the majority were needed at the port. Kirill had been successful in finding out about a shipment initiated by the Colombians had docked two hours before, which meant they wouldn’t have been able to offload every crate. At least we could send them a strong message.
I held the weapon to my head, praying that I was right. I was sick inside from anxiety and the kind of anger that could provoke me into doing unspeakable acts of evil.
We were only two miles away when my phone buzzed. So did Sanchez’s. That meant a breach in security somewhere. The second I pulled my phone into the light, I roared.
The warehouse that was supposed to be secure was under siege.
Sanchez floored the accelerator, barreling down the last roads heading to the warehouse. We rolled to a stop a few blocks away. After grabbing one of the rifles, I started running toward the massive structure. It didn’t matter how the fuckers found out the location. While the contents were valuable, they meant nothing in comparison to the way I felt about Giada.
Gunshots could be heard everywhere, the spray of ammunition coming from dozens of assault rifles cutting through the night sky. There was no hesitation. I began gunning down one after the other, forced to drop and roll more than once. The sound was thunderous.
I shifted into combat mode, running toward the warehouse, swinging my weapon back and forth. At least fifteen enemy soldiers had been taken out by my men prior to our arrival. But there were dozens more. The fucker had brought an army. My guess was that half had arrived on the recently docked ship.
When I was within a few feet of the door, one of them jumped out of the shadows, tackling me to the ground. He shoved his weapon under my chin, pushing down. While the prick was strong, I was much more so given my heightened adrenaline.
I rolled him over, smashing my weapon against the side of his head. When he continued struggling, I was reminded of the fight in Tatiana’s room all those years ago. I jumped back, wasting no time pulling the trigger. I was finished with playing nice.
Through the brutal sounds of gunfire, I heard something else.
A single bellow that floated above everything else.
“Fire!”
With the number of weapons and explosive inside the warehouse, it would blow within minutes depending on the location the fire had been started.
I rushed forward, bursting in through the door. Acrid smoke had already filled the space and I heard the crackle of flames coming from somewhere. I moved through the warehouse in search of her, shifting from room to room.
“Giada!”
I called out her name several times, but it became lost in the thunderous sound as the fire continued to roll.
The smoke was getting thicker, flames erupting along one of the outside walls. I finally heard a sound. A muffled scream. I threw the assault weapon over my shoulder, covering my mouth and nose and racing into the space. The light started to flicker. Goddamn it, I had to get to her.
My throat tightened the second I saw her. Tied to a chair, Giada was gagged, her eyes imploring as she struggled to free herself. A series of cracks sounded off in the distance as the fire continued to churn its way toward where the crates had been positioned.
“I got you, baby.”
Then I heard a click. Her eyes opened wide, my princess issuing another anguished yelp.
