Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Hellfire points at the front door. “Knock knock, boys.”
Tex nods, raising his gun and punching a dozen holes in and around the lock. Riot flexes his massive shoulders and grins. He charges at it like a human battering ram, ripping the whole fucking thing off its hinges. He ducks low, rolling in as the forward team advances.
"Down," snaps Hellfire and I drop. His gun barks twice and a guard that just arrived around the corner screams and spins into the wall. A red streak is left behind as he sinks to the floor.
"Move in," commands Hellfire as he monitors the other teams who are spreading out to force Kane’s defense to split their attention.
"On it." I slip past Tex, checking that the entry is clear before we advance. These moments are what I live for. When life and death are on the line, and the only things keeping me on the right side of it are my own skills and the support of my brothers. The adrenaline flowing through my veins is better than any high. I'm like a fucking junkie for it.
Our group leapfrogs our way through the building, two guys covering while one advances, working our way towards where we think Kane is most likely to be found. This is the part of the plan that can never be one hundred percent predicted. He might be in his office, or maybe he had the urge to take a late night swim. Fuck, he could be sitting on the can with his pants around his ankles for all we know. I’d fucking pay to see the look on his face if that’s the case.
Glass shatters as one of Kane’s men fires a machine gun through the windows from a pool area. We drop low as bullets tear holes in the wall behind where we were standing. Tex recovers quickly, zeroing in on the shooter and taking him out with a single crack that nails him in the chest. He stumbles backwards, gun still firing even as his eyes glaze over and his body hits the water.
"Everyone good?" I check the others.
They grunt yes, so we keep moving. The house is fucking crawling with guards now, but they’re on the back foot, making it easy to take them on as they show up. Jackal, one of ours, takes a hit to the arm but it’s more blood than damage. Otherwise, we’re all sporting the right number of holes when a man who looks more like a butler than a guard pops out of a doorway and Riot grabs him by the front of his shirt and smashes him into the wall. The guy’s head bounces with a crack.
"Where's Kane?" Riot growls.
The guy doesn't answer, probably still trying to remember his own name, at least until I shove the still warm barrel of my gun right up under the guy's chin, forcing him to look up. That improves his focus, fast.
"Tell us where your boss is, or we’re spreading your brains all over the fucking ceiling, Jeeves," Tex drawls.
"I… I don't know. I swear I don't know." His face is pure panic, and the acrid stench of urine hits my nostrils. "Please. I’m just his chef. I really don't. I just—"
Riot gives him another little love tap, and he slides to the floor, boneless. After giving him a quick pat down Riot shrugs. "He’s clear. Should be fine. Concussion maybe. I don’t see him causing trouble."
I nod. Sometimes it’s kill or be killed, but if we can help it, we avoid bringing civilians into it. "No argument. Let's go." I take the lead, out through the pool area, where the shooter that wasn’t as smart about his career choices is floating in a slowly spreading cloud of red. Considering he was trying to do the same to us, it’s not gonna keep me up at night.
The teams come together in the kitchen, where an open bag of broken, discarded cookies lies strewn across the floor. Odd. “Find anything?”
Savage shakes his head. He’s another officer, the two of us serving unofficially as Hellfire’s VPs while the club rebuilds after losing General. “First floor is clear. They must have headed up when we rang the bell.”
Hellfire cracks his neck and sighs. “The upstairs is sealed off like a bunker. Solid steel. Going to have to make another hole.”
I pat Riot on the shoulder. “Sorry, pal. I don’t think even you can charge through that.”
"On it!" Skyhigh, our best demolitions guy, comes running with a camo backpack. He and his backup work to place explosive charges around the barrier. "Step back, fuckers!"
We pull back, and then Skyhigh taps a button on his phone. A moment later, the charges go off. The door slams open with a crash that nobody in the house could possibly miss. We hold back for a second, waiting to see if there’s a welcoming committee. It’s eerily quiet.