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At the sight of another splatter of brains and blood, my vision grayed. I let out a little whimper of distress, and Jack’s attention turned to me. “I’ll give you the same warning I did him. Shut your fucking mouth or I’ll take my chances with your man, kill you, and let your body rot in the back of this van.”
I was a heck of a lot smarter than his dead partner, so I nodded and didn’t say another word.
4
Huntley
Cash met me at my house fifteen minutes later. As well as Stirling, who was on our Intelligence Team, and Deacon, whose specialty was Surreptitious Entry and Technical Surveillance Operations. Cash and I both had specialty training as Snipers and Advanced Air Operation. Not that being a Jumpmaster or Parachute Rigger would help us find Cora.
The four of us lived the closest to our base, and I was grateful that we’d just returned from a deployment because it meant they were home.
“Not out here,” I grunted as they all exited their vehicles.
“It’s the girl from the bank, isn’t it?” Cash asked once we were inside.
I tossed him a dark look, and he held up his hands in surrender. “Not saying we shouldn’t help her. Just asking.”
Quickly, I explained the events from the robbery. I didn’t go into why I was desperate to help Cora, other than her being an innocent woman who’d been taken hostage. I must not have hidden it all that well, though, because I saw the realization in their eyes.
I pivoted and marched down the hall to my office, assuming they would follow. I didn’t have the level of technical skills with a computer that Deacon did, but I wasn’t a slouch either, so my setup was very sophisticated.
Deacon took a seat and started tapping on the keyboard. Within a few minutes, he found the footage from the bank cameras. Then he asked me about routes, and we speculated, trying a few different sets of street and highway cams before we finally spotted the vans.
While Deacon followed the paths of the vehicles, the rest of us analyzed the bank footage.
“They are a practiced team,” Stirling murmured. “But look at their body language in the beginning, when they’re all together. This one is clearly in charge”—I nodded, recognizing the guy from the vault—“but the other three don’t respect him. And they certainly don’t trust each other.”
“Damn, Huntley,” Cash said when the film showed my two kills. “Nice shots.” They’d been easy for someone with my training, but we could still appreciate the perfect placement of the bullet wounds.
“Why didn’t you go for the guy holding the girl?” Stirling asked, his brow lowered in confusion.
“He didn’t want to chance hitting her, dipshit,” Cash said, rolling his eyes.
“When’s the last time you missed a target?” Stirling’s tone was exasperated.
“Doesn’t matter,” I muttered. “I wasn’t about to take a chance that this would be the one to break my streak.”
“I’ve got something.” We all gathered around Deacon to look at the two screens in front of him. “None of the vans have plates. But it’s impossible for them to all look exactly alike.”
He froze two pictures and pointed at the first van. “This is the one that pulled out of the bank parking lot.” He pointed at a second screen. “Looking at the others in comparison, there are subtle differences. This one’s mirrors are bent at a different angle.” He hit a key, and the screen switched to a view of another van, so it was side by side with our perps. “The back right tire on this one is brand new.”
He was right. Even from a traffic cam, the condition of the wheel was obvious. It was cleaner, especially the tread, but from the small amount in the grooves, it was clear that they had no wear on them.
Deacon found the differences in the other vans, and then we went back to the footage of all of them on the highway. Once we singled out the van holding Cora, we followed the vehicle to a warehouse on the edge of the next town over. The van disappeared through a garage door, and nothing emerged in the time between then and now.
I stood to my full height and glared at the screen for a moment, then snapped, “Let’s roll.”
We made our way to my garage, where I kept my tactical shit. It was all civilian-grade equipment but would do the job. After gearing up, we loaded into my SUV and set a course for the warehouse.
It wasn’t a long drive, but I knew how quickly we arrived could make all the difference. I was usually calm and cool during missions, but this time it involved my girl, and I was jumpy and out of sorts.
What if I didn’t arrive in time? What if he hurt her, or they were gone? I was kicking myself for dragging my feet. For never feeling her body pressed to mine, never tasting her sweet lips. If—whenwe rescued her, I vowed to stop being such an asshole and man up. I was going to claim my woman.
Stirling had advanced driving training, so I deferred to him when it came to getting behind the wheel. He managed to cut the thirty-minute trip down to fifteen, but still, every minute had chafed.
My phone rang just as Stirling was parking the car down a back road, under a copse of trees to make it less obvious to passersby. I was going to ignore it, but the name on the screen caught my eye.Shadow.Shit.
It was the stupid name I’d given Merrick, my former teammate, after he’d gone dark. A few years back, we’d been betrayed by a member of our team, and it had nearly cost several of us our careers...and lives. Merrick had been the one to go rogue and take the traitor out. Since then, he’d joined a corporation as a wetwork specialist. Wouldn't have been the road I’d chosen, but he was still my friend, and I owed him.
