expression, just see the movement of his eyes. “Blowback’s running late,” he says quietly.
“Give him another minute. Having a team probably slowed him down.”
Stone huffs out a silent laugh and says, “You still got us?”
Not speaking to us but into the mic against his throat. Hashtag’s answer comes through the receiver in my ear—one of Gunner’s toys. Between him, Stone, and Blowback, we’re better equipped than I ever was during my short stint overseas.
“I’m looking into your pretty eyes now.”
Grinning, Stone flutters his eyelashes just as bright orange lights up the sky. An explosion pounds through the air. His grin drops away. “Here we go. Masks on.”
To filter out whatever toxic shit is being blown into the sky right now. I pull mine up, gritting my way past the pain in my jaw. I’ve healed enough over the last couple of days that I can take my sling off and move my arm around, but everything is still as sore as fuck.
“Holy shit!” The shout comes from the left.
Some laughter. “It’s the fucking Fourth of July all over again!”
Hashtag tells us, “Runners are coming up on your nine. They’re not looking your way.”
Because a meth house blowing due to a chemical spill or fumes building up is as expected as fleas on a stray dog. They’re simply running out to see what happened. It’s just human nature. And that nature will pull them all out into the open.
“I got eyes on Burke.”
The Eighty-Eight’s enforcer—the motherfucker who shot me and would have grabbed Jenny. God damn it. I wanted eyes on Reichmann before we start firing. Right now the Eighty-Eight are thinking it was just a chemical explosion. As soon as the first shot goes off, the whole game changes. They’ll take cover and start shooting back.
A sharp crack splits the night. The game changer. Zoomie, covering Blowback’s team. The tone of the shouting around us changes. Not just surprise but alarm.
“Red?”
“I got him.”
Another crack .
“Shit!” Hashtag says in my ear. “I just got eyes on Reichmann but he saw Burke go down. He ducked into House Nine.”
House Nine. We numbered them all on the map we made from the photos. It’s a one-bedroom northwest of us.
“Are we clear?”
“Keep low and behind the junkers. You’ll have about twenty yards from the last one to the back of the house.”
We move quick. Everyone’s still scattered, probably heading for weapons. Zoomie and Red will keep most of them from poking their heads out. We pause behind the last junker. One short sprint with no cover.
“Are we okay to go?”
“I got infrared on the house. There’s no one at the windows, but— Shit. There’s either women or kids in the bedroom on the north side of the house. I think they’re women, though. Six of them. No one real little.”
Fuck. “Is Reichmann in the same room with them?”
“No. There’s two other men in the house. They’re all in the living room. And—” He hesitates for a second. “Boss, I think the women are chained.”
Chained? Only one reason for that. The rage is quick and hot, but I make it cold. So fucking cold.
So they’re not just running meth and guns. They’re selling girls, too. And if they’d ever gotten to Jenny, there’s no fucking doubt what they’d have done after they’d finished with her. “The bedroom’s north?”
“Yeah. They’re sitting on the floor against the south interior wall. Other side is a bathroom. There’s a window in the west wall but it’s boarded up.”
I look to Stone. “If we take out those other two, Reichmann’ll go for the girls and hide behind them.”
His nod is short, his face hard. “So we’ll be quick, yeah?”
Hashtag comes in. “He must have got on the horn for help because there’s five men headed your way, coming from the north.”
The other side of the house. So we’re still covered for now.
“I’ve got the five, Red, if you want to light up the clubhouse,” Zoomie breaks in.
“Give him another minute. Having a team probably slowed him down.”
Stone huffs out a silent laugh and says, “You still got us?”
Not speaking to us but into the mic against his throat. Hashtag’s answer comes through the receiver in my ear—one of Gunner’s toys. Between him, Stone, and Blowback, we’re better equipped than I ever was during my short stint overseas.
“I’m looking into your pretty eyes now.”
Grinning, Stone flutters his eyelashes just as bright orange lights up the sky. An explosion pounds through the air. His grin drops away. “Here we go. Masks on.”
To filter out whatever toxic shit is being blown into the sky right now. I pull mine up, gritting my way past the pain in my jaw. I’ve healed enough over the last couple of days that I can take my sling off and move my arm around, but everything is still as sore as fuck.
“Holy shit!” The shout comes from the left.
Some laughter. “It’s the fucking Fourth of July all over again!”
Hashtag tells us, “Runners are coming up on your nine. They’re not looking your way.”
Because a meth house blowing due to a chemical spill or fumes building up is as expected as fleas on a stray dog. They’re simply running out to see what happened. It’s just human nature. And that nature will pull them all out into the open.
“I got eyes on Burke.”
The Eighty-Eight’s enforcer—the motherfucker who shot me and would have grabbed Jenny. God damn it. I wanted eyes on Reichmann before we start firing. Right now the Eighty-Eight are thinking it was just a chemical explosion. As soon as the first shot goes off, the whole game changes. They’ll take cover and start shooting back.
A sharp crack splits the night. The game changer. Zoomie, covering Blowback’s team. The tone of the shouting around us changes. Not just surprise but alarm.
“Red?”
“I got him.”
Another crack .
“Shit!” Hashtag says in my ear. “I just got eyes on Reichmann but he saw Burke go down. He ducked into House Nine.”
House Nine. We numbered them all on the map we made from the photos. It’s a one-bedroom northwest of us.
“Are we clear?”
“Keep low and behind the junkers. You’ll have about twenty yards from the last one to the back of the house.”
We move quick. Everyone’s still scattered, probably heading for weapons. Zoomie and Red will keep most of them from poking their heads out. We pause behind the last junker. One short sprint with no cover.
“Are we okay to go?”
“I got infrared on the house. There’s no one at the windows, but— Shit. There’s either women or kids in the bedroom on the north side of the house. I think they’re women, though. Six of them. No one real little.”
Fuck. “Is Reichmann in the same room with them?”
“No. There’s two other men in the house. They’re all in the living room. And—” He hesitates for a second. “Boss, I think the women are chained.”
Chained? Only one reason for that. The rage is quick and hot, but I make it cold. So fucking cold.
So they’re not just running meth and guns. They’re selling girls, too. And if they’d ever gotten to Jenny, there’s no fucking doubt what they’d have done after they’d finished with her. “The bedroom’s north?”
“Yeah. They’re sitting on the floor against the south interior wall. Other side is a bathroom. There’s a window in the west wall but it’s boarded up.”
I look to Stone. “If we take out those other two, Reichmann’ll go for the girls and hide behind them.”
His nod is short, his face hard. “So we’ll be quick, yeah?”
Hashtag comes in. “He must have got on the horn for help because there’s five men headed your way, coming from the north.”
The other side of the house. So we’re still covered for now.
“I’ve got the five, Red, if you want to light up the clubhouse,” Zoomie breaks in.
Similar Books
