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For almost twenty years, I’d studied human reactions through a scope to predict their next move. The slightest twitch of an eye or a flick of their fingers could carry the message of a death sentence. We spoke more with body language than actual words.
Enzo wasn’t as amused as he pretended to be.
Neither was the audience. Children were crying. Women horrified, men angry.
Shay looked up toward Enzo as well, all while he was ready to crush his opponent’s skull against the marble floor.
Enzo gave the go-ahead, and two things happened at once. Shay slammed the guy’s head into the marble, and the other three young men started moving toward Shay.
“Any second now,” Danny said. “Remember, boys, don’t leave the gun and take the cannoli. No evidence left behind.”
“I’ll tell Willow to initiate a blackout as soon as you have Shay,” Emerson stated.
I eased my finger over the trigger.
Women in despair were scurrying off with the youngest children. The fuck had they expected? What was worse—most stayed. Boys and girls around my daughter’s age scooted closer to their parents but kept staring.
Shay moved on to fight the other three.
Slow and steady breaths.
I shifted my focus up to the second patio and found one guard who stood out. He was on edge and heavily armed, unlike the civilian sicarios who moseyed around with their AK-47s. Fingers crossed this guy’s job was to protect someone important.
“Okay, almost half the women and children are gone,” Danny muttered. “We can’t wait any longer. Joel, you’re up.”
Gladly.
I zeroed in on the man’s forehead and gently squeezed the trigger, and the shot that cracked through the air like thunder ended all the “entertainment.” Danny confirmed he was off, so did Greer, the theater erupted in chaos, I aimed at another guard and fired, orders were shouted in Spanish, guards lifted their rifles and pointed them at the sky, solidifying our guess from before. Their main threat was the Colombian government, and the only attack they’d made official plans for came from above.
“Cover Shay and Danny! Cover Shay and Danny!”
“Alarm’s sounding at the command center—their top priority will be to get the Blancos to safety.”
I had to listen on one ear and tune the rest out. I peered through the scope and shot every guard I spotted in the head, and they dropped like flies.
“It’s me, kid. Let’s get you out of here. Where are we on the fucking blackout? Who has eyes on Enzo and Luca?”
“Coach is trying to get up there.”
“Moving out!”
The other guys kept speaking rapidly, and it felt like I missed every other word, but I couldn’t focus on the chatter at the same time as I tried to take down as many guards as possible. Something about Mercier, something about Cullen, something about Danny. Where was Elliott? Emerson was reporting back from Willow, counting down till the blackout, and it only took seconds. Then everything went dark. The patios, the theater, the paths—except those with torches.
I sucked in a much-needed breath and switched to night vision.
I had two rounds left when I finally spotted Elliott hauling himself over the balustrade on the second-level patio. I automatically left my position, because he had guards all over the place trying to locate the enemy, and if I had to use my handgun, I needed to be closer.
“Sight for sore eyes, baby—stay with me.” At the sound of Reese’s voice, and the words he spoke, I allowed a pinch of relief. He’d been reunited with Shay. “Cullen, Greer, move toward the villas! Mercier went after Luca, Crew’s grabbing the woman—goddammit! Joel, Elliott needs—
“I’m on it,” I grunted, jumping over a cluster of ferns.
“Got it,” Reese replied. “Jesus Christ.”
“Cullen can’t hear you,” Emerson reminded. “They’re past the villas now. Willow has another mission for them.”
“We really need more missions?” Coach snapped.
I aimed at a guard who’d tensed up at the sight of Elliott, and I shot him before he could do something stupid. If someone was going to shoot Elliott, it was me.
