by Shayla Black
No one had to say the most likely scenario. Montilla was too wily to let a tiger like Walker out of his cage unless the ultimate goal was to put him down for good.
“According to the sat-map, it’s a huge compound. How are we supposed to know where to find Walker?” Cutter demanded.
The colonel shrugged. “You’ll have to look. And if you find Laila, too, she comes along. No one else. Copy?” At everyone’s nod, the man turned to him. “Zy, you ready to create some chaos?”
“Affirmative. Explosives are in place. During my earlier reconnaissance, I located their fuel dump and a generator station. All it’s going to take is a press of my thumb, and boom.”
“Good, then you run straight for the chopper. You have the map to the storage location?”
“I’m good to go.”
“Once you get there, lift that bird in the air and fly to the extraction point. You’ll have probably seven to ten minutes—tops—before the others come running in your direction. Until then, be ready to defend your position. I’ll be in the van at the alternate location in case anything goes wrong.” Caleb sighed. “If everyone makes it out, it’s going to be a fucking miracle.”
That was Zy’s read on the situation, too.
“And we’re only going to get one chance at this,” Hunter said. “Don’t fuck up—any of you.”
After that, the team fell silent. What else was there to say? In a handful of minutes, they’d retrieve one of their own from certain death or they’d all die together trying.
Fuck, he wished he’d manned up and called Tess, at least to check on her and hear her voice one more time. If there was a chance he might leave this earth, he’d prefer to do it with some peace. But it was too late now, probably for a lot of reasons.
From a bench that ran the length of the vehicle off the colonel’s right, he leaned in. “Sir, have you heard from Tessa since she went to Tennessee?”
On the far side of the van, he was aware Hunter and Logan shared a glance, but he ignored them, focusing on their father and the regret that tightened his face.
“She called this morning just before we got on the plane. Unfortunately, she lost her father overnight.”
Fuck. Tessa had to be torn up. She was in Tennessee with the stepmother who didn’t know or like her, handling all her grief without a strong arm or a supportive shoulder. Sure, she was a tough woman, but Zy wished he could be there with her, for her.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I’ll pass on your condolences.”
“Thank you.”
Then they fell silent. The sun began to inch toward the horizon behind them. The wind whipped a cloud of dirt around the van.
When they passed the rickety bridge over the creek running parallel to the lonely highway, Zy locked his shit down and wired it tight. If he didn’t focus now, he could fuck everything up for the whole team. Any one of them who didn’t have their head screwed on could.
Tension pinged around the van. The air smelled like adrenaline and anticipation. Everyone wanted to take Montilla down almost as much as they wanted to rescue Laila and bring Walker home in one piece. They wanted the drug lord’s blood for fucking with one of their own.
“Stop here,” he directed the colonel when he caught sight of the rock cluster he’d marked with black spray paint earlier. “This is the path to the fuel dump.”
“Once you’ve checked everything on your end and we’re in position, I’ll give you my go,” Hunter said before he reached for his weapon, then turned to the others. “The blasts will detonate west of the compound. Just to recap: while Montilla’s men are all distracted by Zy’s explosion, Logan, Joaquin, and Cutter will head in from the north. Josiah, you’ll come with me and we’ll approach from the south, where Laila says there’s one less guard. Then we’ll start a systematic search by quadrants. You know your sectors, right?”
The group nodded.
Logan went on. “Whoever finds Walker first, radio in. If he’s unable to get out on his own two feet—for whatever reason—holler. Your nearest teammate will help. Everyone else will continue the search for Laila. She promised to stay close to One-Mile, so hopefully they can be extracted together. If we need to buy more time, I’ll radio Zy to light up the next target, a…” He scowled. “What is it, Garrett?”
“Generator station. But once I hit it, everything will go dark.” And more chaos would ensue.
“So let’s try not to need it,” Logan put in. “Any questions?”
The group shook their head.
“Zy will be waiting in the chopper at the extraction point to the east. Like Dad said, he’ll have the backup position by this bridge on the side of the road. Joaquin has greased the appropriate palms and cleared our path out, so let’s do this right. And don’t get dead.”
If that was Logan’s idea of a joke, it was lousy. But no one said a word as Zy hopped out and the van sped off. Behind some brush, he approached the remote fuel station. Montilla and his boys must be pretty smug, because the only security they had out here was a chain-link fence, a padlock, and a sign in Español that told people this was private property and to keep the fuck out.
With a shrug, Zy ducked through the hole he’d cut earlier, then checked all the C4 he’d put in place. Everything was ready to go.
After squirming back through the enclosure, he clambered across the wilderness toward the power station, arcing around the compound and tucking behind the scrub, just in case some jack hole with binoculars had eagle eyes. But his clock was ticking. Caleb would be dumping everyone else in the van off in about two minutes, and he couldn’t leave them like a guy at a party with his dick dangling.
He got a little help from more winds that kicked up and allowed him to haul ass the last few hundred yards in a swirl of dust. The remote power site was even less protected, so double-checking his work here took about fifteen seconds.
Zy withdrew his radio. “I’m a go.”
“Copy that,” Logan affirmed. “We’re in position. Do it.”
Despite all the problems and all the shit, Zy pushed the button and watched the remote fuel dump explode with a grin. The sight gave him a sick pleasure that made him feel a little like a four-year-old, but the power of the blast and the resulting destruction awed him. It was a force of nature he could create and harness. And after the fire finished blazing, only ashes remained—from which something new and better could rise.
At least in the best of circumstances. Sometimes, he really did just burn shit to the ground.
It didn’t take long for Montilla’s men to start pouring out the west side of the compound to investigate, only to be brought short by the wall of flames that carried the pungent smell of diesel.
Then came another resounding boom, followed by a plume of fire. Zy felt the singeing heat even from a few hundred yards away.
He watched the team slink into the compound on their bellies, seemingly unnoticed by Montilla’s goons. None of them shouted warnings or fired at the team or gave any indication that they’d been discovered.
With a mental pat on the back, Zy fled his hiding place and started hauling ass across the landscape to the adjacent rancher’s property. Apparently, the old man had been happy to take some American greenbacks to store the team’s equipment for a few hours.
Zy was winded by the time he reached the edge of the property and fired up the chopper. Getting it in the air was a breeze, and he was starting to worry this rescue was going too well. Or had their luck finally fucking turned around?
Now was the part he dreaded most, the hurry up and wait for the others, to see if they’d achieved the mission objective and made it out alive…or not.
Suddenly, his radio crackled with static, followed by a shout. “We’re coming in hot!”
Hunter. Zy sat up as he put the chopper on the ground in the designated spot and flung the side open. Sure enough, here they came.
Logan led the way. Behind him, Cutter ran, carrying a dark figure fireman-style over hi
s left shoulder. It must be One-Mile with his ass in the air because he was shooting at Montilla’s heavies, now running after them—at least until he suddenly dropped the gun and fell limp.
Worry gripped Zy by the throat as Hunter shouted something, scooped up the weapon, and kept sprinting his way.
Josiah darted almost shoulder to shoulder with Cutter, carrying a petite brunette who looked naked except for a bath towel she clutched around her body. That must be Laila. She hurled insults at the goons on their tail.
When they’d almost reached the chopper, Zy strapped in again. Logan scrambled in and helped Cutter tumble a naked One-Mile onto the hard metal surface.
Zy got a look at him then. Holy fuck, Walker didn’t even look like the same man. Besides looking twenty pounds lighter, the sniper had been stripped bare and beaten within an inch of his life. Blood covered his face, oozing from black-and-blue lesions. A glance told him the sniper’s jaw had probably been broken. And when Cutter rolled him to one side to make more room for the others incoming, his back looked as if it had been torn to shreds with a chainsaw.
If One-Mile didn’t die before they reached safety, Zy would be shocked.
Hunter followed, perching just inside as he fired at Montilla’s henchmen, while Josiah leapt into the back with the brunette in his arms. Logan pulled them in deeper, then shouted at his brother, who slammed the door shut. He turned Zy’s way with a hand gesture that said to take the chopper up, but Zy was already on it, lifting the bird into the sky—away from the remaining enemies, who were still shooting.
It had been a hot minute since he’d flown one of these, and Zy gripped the yoke, swerving and feinting to avoid enemy bullets hitting something vital, like the fuel tank, and killing them all. Slowly, the pelting projectiles stopped pinging the side of the chopper. And thank fuck no one had come with their RPG.
As Logan radioed the colonel to bug out, Zy let out a sigh of relief, increased the altitude, and headed for the private airfield due north—and home.
Finally, something in Mexico had gone their way.
September 19
* * *
Eleven days after Tessa boarded a plane to Tennessee to see her dad and hopefully hold his hand through his recovery, she was returning to Louisiana with a few of his prized possessions and some of the most bittersweet memories of her life. She hadn’t wanted to cry in front of all the strangers on her flight. She knew if she started, she might not stop.
Every muscle of her body ached with exhaustion when she was able to rise from her cramped seat. Hallie, who had been on her lap for the last few hours, fussed when Tessa set her back in the chair, but she blocked the aisle with her body and grabbed the portable playpen from the overhead before slinging the diaper bag from the floor. Thank goodness she’d gate-checked the stroller and wouldn’t have to schlep all this gear to the baggage claim.
And once she got there, the colonel would be waiting since he’d kindly volunteered to pick her up and give her a ride home. She’d tried to call Cash to tell him that she was catching a flight, but he hadn’t bothered to answer, probably because he slept all day.
Tessa hoped her house was still standing when she got there, but she was too tired to care about it—or him—right now.
Finally, she wedged herself and all her crap toward the plane’s narrow exit, pausing to pick up the stroller from the attendant so she could set Hallie down and stash her gear.
As she crossed the mostly empty terminal, it felt like a ghost town. She’d never seen the wide-open space with virtually no one filling it. All the restaurants were closed, the shops shuttered. Then again, it was after ten p.m. Hers was the last arriving flight today, thanks to her connection from Dallas being delayed. Night had fallen long ago. Darkness pressed in through the windows, making everything in her world seem bleak.
Hallie fussed, wanting to get out of the stroller and move around. The baby was also tired and hungry, and Tessa didn’t blame her. She simply didn’t have a way to deal with her daughter’s unhappiness until they got home.
Finally, she made her way to the bag claim, scanning the expansive area for her former boss.
What she saw instead made her heart seize up in her chest.
In a line next to her carousel was the colonel—along with the entire EM Security team—waiting for her. Hunter held a bright white bouquet of flowers. He and Logan, beside him, both looked banged up. Josiah and Cutter didn’t have too many scratches. Same with Joaquin. But he pushed a wheelchair, and she bit back a gasp when she saw One-Mile slouched in the seat, looking like he’d recently had one foot through death’s door. What he had endured at the hands of Emilo Montilla made her own pain seem smaller. Trees towered over them all with a surprisingly soft expression. And at the end, Zy stood, his stare intense and unwavering.
At the sight of him, the dam of her strength nearly broke. She pressed a hand over her mouth to hold in a sob.
“Welcome home, Tessa.” The colonel stepped forward and wrapped her in a warm hug, which she’d desperately needed for days.
“Thank you. All of you. This is…” She held herself together by sheer will and gave the team a wobbly smile. “I’m beyond touched.”
“These are for you.” Hunter handed her the bouquet of calla lilies, white roses, snowdrops, and greenery. “We’re sorry for your loss.”
She took them, automatically lifting them to her nose. She closed her eyes to regroup and lost herself for a guilty moment in the floral scents before setting them on top of the stroller. “They’re lovely. I appreciate it.”
Honestly, it was the nicest thing anyone had done for her in eleven days.
Logan stepped forward. “What do you need from us? Whatever it is, name it. We’ll take care of it.”
Tessa teared up again. She was at the edge of her control. This was another reason signing her contract had been the right choice, despite the fact it separated her from Zy. Naturally, the money and the benefits had been important, but the sense of family… She needed that so badly. Now that Daddy was gone, she no longer had one of her blood, but she had these men who’d somehow become like protective older brothers.
Losing her father had been a terrible, shocking blow. But her unexpected blessings filled a space in her heart.
She shook her head. “Just the weekend. Y’all look like you’ve been off to war and you might need me in the office.”
“We have been,” Josiah said.
“And we could use you in the office, for sure,” Joaquin added. “When you’re ready.”
She gave them all grateful smiles, then approached One-Mile. “I’m almost afraid to ask if you’re okay.”
The sniper’s face was fearsome—bruised and bloated and unwelcoming as usual—but tonight those black eyes held something surprisingly tender.
“His jaw was broken, so it’s wired shut. He can’t talk,” Logan supplied.
“And we’re all grateful,” Cutter muttered under his breath, who was apparently still furious that One-Mile had taken his girlfriend to bed.
Walker flashed him a glare and an obscene finger gesture.
“Ignore them,” Trees suggested. “Glad you’re back. My condolences.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
Hallie fussed in the stroller, and the colonel smiled her daughter’s way. “Want out of there, little girl?”
The baby cooed as she flapped her arms and kicked her chubby legs.
“That’s what I thought,” said the older man. “I’m getting lots of practice with my grandkids.”
Out of nowhere, the thought that her dad had only had a handful of minutes to know that joy blindsided her. The grief that came with it was like a blow to the belly, stealing her breath and debilitating her with a pain that went beyond something she could fight with a pill.
Without even thinking, she turned to the only team member who hadn’t spoken to her. At his side, he held a plush white teddy bear with a pink bow around its neck and Hallie’s name stitched on its littl
e hat.
“Hi.” He stepped toward her, big and stoic and solid.
They were on shaky ground. She wasn’t sure he’d forgiven her for signing the contract. Or for letting Cash move in. It still hurt her to think of him with Madison. Realistically, he’d never loved her the way she loved him. And that was okay. One thing she knew? He would be here for her if she asked. He would be steady and unwavering. She could count on him in a way she hadn’t been able to count on anyone else, even her dad the last months before his death.
At that, despite the thousand reasons she shouldn’t, she flung herself into his arms.
Without hesitation, he crushed her against him, strong and steady, wrapping his arms around her so tightly she nestled in a safe cocoon.
He’d never know how badly she’d needed him right now.
As sobs tore through her, breaking down all the composure she’d managed to scrape together, he remained unmoving and let her cry into the musky T-shirt that smelled so reassuringly like him.
Behind her, someone must have taken the bear from his hand, because suddenly both of his palms pressed against her back and he brought her even closer. She melted against him gratefully.
“I’m here for you,” he murmured.
She tried to thank him, but another sob tore free. “Zy…”
“Shh. Have you eaten something, baby?”
Tessa shook her head and pulled herself together. She couldn’t keep falling apart in front of the team. They’d endured so much since she’d gone, and they’d still come to honor her. She couldn’t show them weakness.
Somehow, she managed to sniffle and pull back. “No, but I’ll be—”
“Don’t say fine,” Zy warned. “You’ve dropped weight since you left.”
Anxiety, grief, and all-out warfare with one’s stepmother did that. “But I will be.”
“Maybe after you’ve eaten.”
“We’ll leave you to get settled at home and rest,” Hunter said.
