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“I hope to Christ he knows what he’s doing.” I forced through clenched teeth.
London said nothing. Instead, he turned his attention to the city street as it turned into the highway and headed for the restricted government zone. Still, Colt ran, hunkered down, pushing off with his massive thighs to run like a goddamn animal.
“Am I…am I seeing this right?” I murmured, glancing back at London.
“You are.”
Only when I turned back, I could see the sheen of sweat that glistened in the moonlight. He veered left, lunged for the towering chainlink fence that surrounded the army compound, and slammed into the barrier, then speared his fingers through and climbed to the rows of razor wire around the top.
“No.” I shook my head. “He’s going to get himself killed if he goes in there!”
London was just as worried, looking over his shoulder as we left the Son behind.
“What the fuck?” I muttered.
But he said nothing, just yanked the wheel, veered the car toward the center of the road, then wrenched it and hurtled us toward the guard hut at the edge of the compound.
“Carven,” London said coldly.
The killer was already moving, shoving open the door before the car had even stopped. I’d never seen anything like it. He was a goddamn specter. The stark white hair was the only thing I tracked as he rounded the rear of the vehicle and made for the guard.
“What?” The surprised mutter came from the soldier as he stepped out of the darkened hut and saw the Son headed for him.
He never stood a chance.
Not even to go for his gun.
Or even cry out.
One minute he was whole. The next, a dagger was embedded in the middle of his chest before it was wrenched free and dragged neatly across his throat.
He crumpled where he stood, hitting the ground before Carven stepped over him, picked up his shoulders, and dragged him back inside. The gates started rolling open before we knew it. London never waited, just slammed his foot against the accelerator and hurtled the four-wheel drive into the compound.
I braced my hand against the dashboard. “I hope to hell you know what you’re doing.”
“Me too, my friend.” London murmured as the vehicle bounced on the uneven road. “Me too.”
There was no time for pride. No time to feel anything other than that cold, honed rage. I gripped my Sig, my finger arching for the trigger. Get to her…get to her…GET TO HER!
The glint of lights shone in the distance.
“What the fuck is that?” I muttered.
The only answer from London was to push the Explorer harder until we were flying forward. The closer we came, the more desperate I became. Lights bounced off the nose of a sleek jet parked halfway out of a hangar.
“Not an army training camp, how's that?” London seethed.
I caught a glimpse of movement racing toward us, coming out of nowhere. It was Colt…but he was struggling. His steps were slower. Our headlights bounced off the blood on his hands. My mind went to the thick rows of razor wire along the top of the fence and I winced.
But he never stopped, just kept pushing himself toward that hangar. There was movement, a frenzied scurrying as armed guards ran…the only problem was, it wasn’t toward us.
“What the fuck?” London yanked the wheel of the Explorer, making the lights splash over the back of the small army running hell for leather.
It wasn’t until we passed the jet and the hangar that we saw what they were running toward. A massive house sprawled along a rise in the distance. The lights were on, the front door thrown open. That’s where everyone was headed.
That’s where she was…
My gut clenched.
