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“Thank God.” She let out the smallest of sighs. “I only thought about that once I was in the water.”
She slipped her shoes on and quietly snuck along the outside perimeter of the grounds, near the water’s edge. I watched her black silhouette move silently. If there were no headlights nearby, I wouldn’t have been able to see her at all.
She turned left and followed the furthest property line where it met the neighbor’s yard, and she crept alongside some short bushes. I occasionally saw the top of her head peek over, but most of her was hidden by the foliage.
“When the coast is clear, I think someone should break into the storage shed and remove all the guns. If not, at least do a number on the lock so the weapons can’t be accessed,” Jones whispered into his radio.
We needed to limit the rouge agents and Reapers’ ability to fight back.
“On it.” I could certainly fuck up a lock if need be. I was the strongest and could use brute force to bend the lock into something they’d have to cut through. “Yates, watch Abby’s back while I’m busy. I’ll get in the prone next to the building and take back over when I’m done.”
“Roger,” he answered.
I took off my shoes, not bothering to even bring them with me. My feet were tough, and I was going to be standing on grass. I’d be stealthier without them. I held my rifle over my head as I slipped into the water and silently made my way to the shore. I crept up the right side of the shed to provide me with cover as I waited for the best time to make my move. I could see Abby’s crouching form as she moved to the far side of the first SUV. In her radio, she let out the tiniest grunt as she punctured a hole in the tire. Then another as she sabotaged the back tire.
“Go with all four if you can,” Yates whispered. “They can still get pretty far on two wheels if they try.”
“How am I going to do that without being seen?” she huffed. “Never mind, I’ve got it.”
She got down on her belly and slid under the car and punctured a hole in the inside of the two other tires. I watched as the height of the vehicle slowly sank an inch. In a few minutes the vehicle would be on its rims.
“Get to the next one. They will be back any minute with the next victim, and surely they’ll notice the tires,” Mendez whispered.
I checked out the lock, and it was a large industrial one. It might be a bit of a challenge to bend. It would be very obvious from a distance if it was bent out of shape. But tampering with the locking mechanism wouldn’t be. I pulled out my Gerber—a multitool—and jammed the knife into the lock. I twisted the knife around and heard springs snap inside. I bent the tool up sharply and then the blade snapped off inside.
I pocketed the Gerber and dropped into the prone position and picked up Abby watch. “Gun shed is out of the equation,” I whispered.
“Roger,” Garcia answered.
Abby moved to the next SUV and sliced the two front tires. It leaned forward at a weird angle. She released two more tiny grunts, signaling the demise of the last two tires on that vehicle.
“Keep going, Abby,” I whispered. I heard voices coming from the house on the far left and several lights turned on. I swallowed back a fit of rage as I tightened my grip on my weapon. I didn’t want to think about the assault going on. I wanted nothing more than to bust through the door and put a bullet through the asshole’s brain. But Abby needed to make sure they couldn’t escape. We did the woman no good if she could be rushed out a door and thrown into a vehicle, never to be seen again.
Abby moved to the final vehicle—the one that held the restrained victim from earlier. There wasn’t a single guard with her, but she wasn’t a flight risk; her hands were handcuffed to the grab bar over the windows.
She saw Abby and started to stir. Abby put her finger to her lips at the window, and the woman nodded, then went still again. Abby dropped to the ground. The back door opened, and several suits came out with another victim. Abby had punctured the second tire when they made it to the vehicle.
“Does something look funny to you?” one of the suits said to the other as they pushed their hostage into the back of the vehicle.
“Did you forget to add air to the tires?”
“They didn’t need it,” the first suit answered. I couldn’t see his face, but his voice carried, and it sounded anxious.
“Let’s get them out of here. We’ll fix up the tires and come back.” They didn’t bother to check out the other vehicles. They slipped into the driver and passenger seats.
“Abby, they are about to move,” I whispered into the radio. A bit of panic began to stir in my gut. I had to keep myself from getting up and sprinting across the yard to pull her from under the vehicle.
The doors shut and the SUV turned on.
“Abby get out of there.”
She hesitated. “I can’t, not without them seeing me. I’m clinging to the underneath, and I’ll drop when we get a little further from the compound,” she whispered.
“But they’ll only get faster,” Yates warned.
“I’ll survive,” she answered. “They’ll get away with two women. I can’t let that happen to them.”
“Then what do you want us to do?” I asked.
