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“Fuck yeah.” I glance at my fingers. They’re bad, but not bad enough I can’t handle a weapon.
“Booker, give him your weapon.”
Weak from lack of sleep, lack of food, and a body that’s barely functioning, Booker’s right. I lack the strength to carry Barbi. Fortunately, I’m not too prideful to know when I need help.
I stand down.
“Here.” Booker hands me his weapon, then goes to Barbi. “Sorry Barbi, but we have to move fast. There’s no elegant way to do this. I have to carry you out over my shoulder.”
Looping her arm over his shoulder and neck, he doesn’t ask if she needs help. Why would he? There’s no need. She can barely stand. Hell, I sway on my feet.
“It’s okay.” Barbi grits her teeth, fighting the pain in her body.
Gunfire rings out down the hallway, answered by the shouts of men.
“That’s Charlie team. We move now.” Brady wraps his arm around my waist while I lean on him. I hobble out of the cell, with his support, while Booker lifts Barbi over his shoulder and takes her out in a fireman’s carry.
Once we’re in the hall, Zeb and Hayes give me a chin lift, part recognition, part solidarity. There’s no need for words. They know what we’ve been through.
Rafe takes the lead. Brady and Booker stay in the middle assisting me and Barbi. We’re the weak links in this chain. Zeb and Hayes guard our rear while we lope into an awkward jog through a maze of dark hallways and up several flights of stairs.
Bravo team wastes no time as we move swiftly through the dimly lit corridors of the basement. The air hangs heavy with the acrid scent of gunpowder. Gunfire echoes through the narrow passageways. Men scream all around us, eating lead and taking their last breaths.
Bravo team maintains tactical formation as we head toward the exit. With each turn and door we breach, armed men stand between us and freedom. The air crackles with the exchange of bullets as my teammates take down Artemus’s men with deadly precision.
The thunderous report of our weapons makes my ears ring. Rafe leads the charge. He takes out those barring our path with deadly efficiency, neutralizing each threat that challenges our advance.
With each haggard step, my strength returns, until I run beside Brady, no longer requiring his support. We come to a set of stairs and slow. I feel naked without my HUD but trust my brothers to guide me through to the end. Tension coils in my muscles, waiting for the signal to move.
My tortured muscles scream in protest as we ascend another set of stairs, my ribs ache, and my lungs burn, but I grit my teeth against the pain in order to keep going.
The upper levels of the villa swarm with armed guards, but Bravo team navigates the chaos, following commands given by Mitzy’s technical team. When we encounter resistance, we move like ghosts, using our training to gain the upper hand. The hallways are a battleground, and we take cover behind walls, around corners, and return fire with deadly accuracy.
We come to a courtyard where chaos reigns. Rafe halts us with a raised fist. Gunfire blends with the shouts of men, as a battle unfolds before our eyes.
Alpha team makes a coordinated advance, taking down a score of Gonzales’s guards with efficient and lethal precision. They push back the enemy with a hail of bullets, and that’s when I notice a dozen women huddling under cover.
“You good.” Brady gives me a look.
“Better now.” I crouch while he takes position, standing over me. Together, we pick off the men Alpha team can’t reach. Adrenaline courses through my veins when a tiny shape suddenly sprints into the courtyard, completely oblivious to the hail of bullets and zone of death.
A young teen dodges after the little girl, trying to grab the child, but a bullet hits her in the leg, and she falls to the floor. The little girl freezes, completely exposed in the middle of a rain of bullets.
“Don’t.” Brady gives me a look, reading my mind.
I say everything that needs to be said in a look. Brady can go fuck himself.
“Cover me.” With that, I lunge headfirst into danger. The only thought in my mind is to save that precious little life.
“Goddamn it.” Brady lays down suppressive fire as I race toward the little girl. Her eyes widen when she sees me, but she’s too frightened to move. All around me, bullets fly through the air. I scoop the little girl into my arms, then run to the teen bleeding on the floor.
I grab the teen by the arm, haul her to her feet, and half-drag, half-carry her back to the safety of Alpha team. Max, Alpha-One, gives me a look that says I’m a fucking idiot with brass balls.
I don’t disagree.
Huddled behind the men of Alpha team are terrified women, young teens, and another little girl who can’t be more than six years old. They stare at me with a mixture of horror and hope. I release the little girl who ran into the courtyard. She hugs the teen who came after her. Alpha’s medic takes a quick look at the bullet wound in the teen’s leg.
Max takes one look at my sorry ass and gives a solemn nod. “Charlie team’s bogged down with two dozen hostages.”
