Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
I tapped out three signals to warn my team: shots incoming. Then, I squeezed the trigger.
The first man went down without a sound. The second, sensing something was off, reached for his radio, but my bullet found him before he could press the button.
Three taps again. All clear.
But something felt off. Only two guards, that didn’t sit right. This compound had been heavily protected before, why the downgrade?
I filed the thought away and refocused on my scope, tracking the teams as they moved. Preacher and his crew disappeared into the shadows, smooth and efficient. Hunter and Blake reached a door, and instead of the usual breach tactics, they held up a foam soccer ball, one of our classic distractions. The moment it rolled forward, shots rang out from inside.
Through my earpiece, I heard the same report from every team. Resistance was high.
The cricket moved, its tiny body brushing against my skin, but I didn’t have time to flick it away. My scope caught a figure in dark clothing moving toward Preacher’s team. No insignia, no familiar markings. But the sword strapped to their side, that was new. None of our people carried swords.
The unknown reached for a gun, lining up their shot on Preacher’s exposed back. I exhaled, focused, fired, and the figure crumpled to the ground.
“Thanks,” Preacher’s voice came through, low and even.
I pressed my mic once in response. No distractions. No small talk. Just the job.
Gunfire erupted from inside the building as the teams breached. I kept my scope trained on their movements, watching as Hunter’s squad navigated forward with practiced precision. Across the compound, Jagger’s team engaged incoming hostiles, six of them pushing toward his position. One by one, the teams made it inside. The real fight was just beginning, and I was ready.
The sound of a baby crying sent an icy chill down my spine, and my grip on the rifle tightened instinctively.
We had the baby.
That should’ve been the end of it, the mission accomplished, and the relief setting in. But something was wrong.
“What the fuck?” someone shouted through the comms, voice sharp with disbelief. A pit formed in my stomach.
“We have a negative on the mark,” Hunter’s voice came through, tight and controlled. Too controlled.
One by one, the rest of the teams checked in with the same report.
No mark.
Shit.
The warehouse was dimly lit, the air thick with the stale scent of unwashed bodies and spilled gasoline. Three kids huddled together near the far wall, their wide, terrified eyes flicking between us. Hunter’s team had found them inside, and now, standing in front of them, I listened as they described a woman. A woman who sounded a hell of a lot like Bo.
My stomach churned.
Bo had been a friend, a close one. She’d worked alongside my team, running missions with her own crew. We’d trusted her. Then, six months ago, she vanished—no word, no trace, nothing. And now, here she was, not just alive but apparently tangled up in something I never would’ve imagined.
I refused to believe it. Bo wouldn't be involved in trafficking, least of all with kids.
Before I could even start forming an explanation, Mace—one of Hunter’s friends—exploded. His face had gone pale, his breath short and ragged. Shoving his phone into our faces, he pulled up a photo of two women—his sister and his girlfriend.
What the fuck was going on?
Preacher’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. “We were set up. They knew.”
The words sent a ripple of unease through all of us.
“How?” Hunter’s voice was sharp, demanding. He wasn’t just angry, he was already strategizing. Already figuring out where the cracks in our intel were.
I couldn’t hold this back. Not now.
“I think I have the answer to that,” I muttered, pulling out my phone. My pulse hammered in my ears as I held up the screen, showing them the message I’d received while I’d been in the tree.
A photo. A blonde woman holding Perry. He was asleep, cradled in her arms like he belonged there. Silence fell over the room.
Noah, Hunter’s second-in-command, stared at the screen, his disbelief thick in his voice. “Is that Bo?”
We all knew the history between him and Bo, the tension that had lingered for years. The weight of it was written all over his face now—shock, betrayal, something raw and ugly brewing beneath it. No one answered him because no one needed to.
Before we could, Duke spoke, and what he said shattered whatever control we had left.
“It’s not what you think,” he said. “She’s with me.”
The world tilted for a second.
Hunter’s entire body went rigid. “What?”
The room bristled with energy—dangerous and volatile.
Blake barely managed to grab Noah in time before he lunged at Duke, his hands itching to wrap around his throat.
“And you didn’t fucking think to mention this?” Hunter roared. “Not once? There wasn’t a single goddamn moment where it crossed your mind that this might be motherfucking vital information?”