Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Chapter 27
Orion
I crouch against the splintered wall of a run-down building, heart pounding beneath my Kevlar vest. My breath comes in steady, deliberate pulls as I glance around the makeshift command post we’ve assembled. It’s dimly lit, the only illumination coming from a portable lamp on the floor and the screens of our scattered devices. Dean stands at the center, issuing orders into his comm, while Riggs, Gunner, Asher, and Maverick double-check weapons. The tension is thick enough to choke on.
We’re less than a block away from a dingy warehouse, the place we believe Briar—and Chester—are being held. It’s taken days of chasing leads and a massive favor involving satellite imagery, but now we know exactly where they are. The overhead shots show a sprawling compound with multiple entrances, more than a dozen armed men, and a handful of vehicles parked near the loading docks. And inside, somewhere in the back, I’m told there’s a section cordoned off by makeshift walls. That’s where they’ve got Briar.
Gunner stands beside me, tablet in hand, flicking between images. “Twelve men, plus Jason and Heath,” he murmurs, dark eyes scanning the final feed we managed to get. “Not counting any stragglers who might not show up on the thermal scans.”
I nod, jaw clenched. “Any sign of bigger players? The Bratva father or anything like that?”
Gunner shakes his head. “Doesn’t look like Yuri is there. Guess he really did cut ties with his sons. But these guys aren’t amateurs. They’ve got trucks, probable arms shipments, and enough coverage to hold off a small army.”
Dean steps over, adjusting the earpiece in his comm. “All right, listen up,” he says, voice tense. He’s in full tactical mode now, and the rest of us gather around him. “We’ve confirmed the back corner of the warehouse is sealed off, probably where Briar and the bird are kept. The info we got from that overhead pass shows minimal movement in that area—likely just a guard or two. Our main trouble is the front.”
Riggs, who’s built like a tank, folds his arms. “So we go in quiet through the west side, slip past the outer perimeter.”
Maverick nods, tapping a stylus on the screen of his phone. “If we can neutralize the roving guard near the loading dock, we’ll have a relatively clear path to the interior. Then we split up—some of us draw attention at the front, the rest push to the back to secure Briar and Chester.”
“Yeah, about that attention at the front,” Gunner interjects. “That’s where the majority of these guys are clustered. We’ve gotta be ready for a firefight. They won’t hesitate to shoot if they sense we’re a threat.”
A slow burn of anger flares in my chest. Let them shoot. My only concern is getting Briar out alive. The last few days, I’ve hardly slept, images of her frightened face hounding every spare moment. Hell, I can barely think about anything else. Jason, that bastard, and Heath, the traitor who waltzed into the zoo. They’re going down, no question.
Dean catches the look on my face. He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Stay focused,” he says quietly. “Don’t let rage drive you. The mission is to get her out, not to rack up a body count.”
I give a curt nod, swallowing back the fury. “Understood.”
Asher, new to the team but already fitting in like he’s been around forever, sets a couple of rifles on the rickety table. “Everyone check your gear. We go in five. Comm lines on channel three. We keep chatter to a minimum. Two teams: Dean, Riggs, and me in the front, Orion and Gunner take the west side. Maverick, you run external overwatch with the drone. You see trouble, you call it in.”
We each acknowledge, doing quick re-checks: magazine, chamber, safety, earpiece, vest. The metallic clack of loading weapons is a cold comfort. I run a hand over the front pocket of my vest, where I keep a photo of Briar. It’s one of the photos she had in her memento box, and I snatched it when I went home to grab Jeb. It’s wrinkled and worn from being held so often, but it’s the only tangible reminder I have of her smile.
Gunner notices. He quirks an eyebrow. “You really care about her, huh?”
My throat tightens. “Yeah,” is all I manage. I can’t afford to say anything more right now.
He just nods once, understanding in his eyes. Then he slaps a fresh mag into his rifle. “All right, let’s do this.”
We head out into the night, sticking to the shadows as we approach the warehouse. The air is stagnant, carrying the faint stench of garbage from the nearby alleyways. My boots make barely a whisper against the cracked pavement. I keep my weapon pointed at the ground but ready. My senses sharpen—every scrape of metal, every distant voice, every flickering light stands out like a siren.