Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Pretty standard black market operation by the looks of it.
The silent loading and unloading, the dark, unmarked ship, the remote location.
The entire time, I’ve been scanning around for Talia. Until we knew we wouldn’t endanger her with friendly fire, we couldn’t move.
Grant and I took up positions behind several large freight containers, while Lucas and Henri split up to circle around to the other side.
We’re outnumbered as hell, judging by the Jacobins and their associates swarming around like pissed off ants.
Who the fuck knows when Raleigh PD will show up.
When Xavier pulled Talia out of the trunk, I almost lost my shit and charged the gap between the shipping containers.
Only for Grant to rip me back, kicking and twisting and fighting me. Only to freeze as one of my boots hits the shipping container with a resounding boom.
Shit!
So much for keeping a cool head, but if that miserable fuck touches her, if he touches her at all—
Talia’s scream splits the night.
A frigid, murderous rage lashes my blood.
I can taste death on the air.
I go stock-still, save for my clenched fists.
“Grant?” I snarl.
“Yeah?”
“You’re going to want to let me go before I make you,” I bite off, right before Xavier’s voice carries over the dock.
“Come out, come out, little white wolf!”
Grant swears softly, his grip easing off.
“Don’t think I have much choice,” he mutters. “Think our cover’s fucking blown.”
Yeah, I’d agree.
The silent dock clatters alive with noise and activity—Jacobins, Bowden, people I don’t recognize diving for their guns.
I catch a glimpse of carbines, shotguns, and pistols before I hunker down behind the freight container and sling out my M4.
“Look,” I whisper. “They’re sitting ducks, out there in plain sight. We’ve got cover. We can take them while they’re confused.”
“And Talia?” Grant peeks around the corner of the freight container, hefting his own weapon.
“Don’t risk it.” I shake my head. “Pick off the assholes around Xavier first. Don’t engage him. She might take a stray bullet, and we wouldn’t be able to get to her in time.”
Grant nods tightly, pressing the headset clipped to his ear and muttering into it. “Boys, we’re going sniper. Use the freight containers. Duck and dodge like hell. Never step in the same place twice. Go for the hostiles, avoid Xavier Arrendell and the hostage. Understood?”
Lucas’ voice crackles in both our earpieces. “Suicide run, got it, Cap.”
“Like hell I’m dyin’ here!” Henri joins in. “I’m too good a shot for that. Let’s fuck some shit up, my friends.”
Grant just sighs, rolling his eyes. “Fucking children, acting like it’s a video game. Move on my mark.”
“If you don’t show yourselves,” Xavier calls out, “I’ll kill her now! Right here in front of you.”
Talia’s pained cry follows, and my heart shatters again, each sliver furious and cutting.
I close my eyes, shaking, forcing myself to wait, wait.
Fuck, if I can’t control myself, I’ll just make it worse.
The three seconds until Grant snaps are the longest of my life.
“Now!” he roars.
Then he darts away and I’m free.
I charge in the opposite direction, glancing between freight containers. The Jacobins and their hired mercs fan out defensively.
Ephraim and Eustace hang back with Bowden, his service pistol clenched in both hands.
Xavier clutches Talia, holding her close by the throat.
His fingers dig at her skin, her face red yet defiant with anger, her blue eyes bright.
Of course, he’s using her as a human shield.
That sick, cowardly piece of shit.
When I get my hands on him—
But my thoughts snap and I duck.
A shot pings off the corner of the freight container shielding me.
Shit, shit, shit.
More shots—coming from all directions this time.
I dive for cover behind another bulky container just as I notice several Jacobins going down howling.
My turn.
I hit the ground, roll, come up on one knee, and fire off three rounds.
Two hit targets before I’m moving again, weaving between containers.
It’s like a nightmare maze, and our best bet is to bait them into it.
Fewer bodies shielding Xavier.
Fewer targets close to Talia.
Easier to isolate and pick them off.
I scuttle to another quick vantage point, aim, pick off one more, then duck and head in the opposite direction. I deliberately let myself be seen, slowing in the crevice between two containers, waiting, watching as several more peel off from the main group and give chase.
Before they can catch sight of me again, I double back, breathing hard, flattening myself against the back of another container. Right as three men go charging down the corridor of space I just abandoned.
I count out three seconds, then slip behind them.
Aim.
Fire.
One, two, three, blown down like leaves.
Xavier wants to call me a white wolf?
Little pig, little pig, let me in.
Again.
Again, and there’s still no fucking end to it.
Screaming bullets piercing flesh, men crying out, the sharp ricochet of bullets flying off steel.
One thing I don’t hear is Talia now, and every time I duck down, I risk exposing myself for another glimpse of her.