Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 66480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
"Get down!" I pushed Bug toward cover as I returned fire, my first shot catching a guard in the shoulder, spinning him around and he fell to the floor. The warehouse erupted into chaos, muzzle flashes illuminating terrified faces behind bars as we exchanged fire with the Copperheads.
I rolled behind a support column, bullets chipping concrete inches from my head. A quick glance showed Marcus and his team pinned down by gunfire from an elevated office. The girls screamed, some covering their ears, others too shocked to react.
"Cover me!" I called to Bug, who nodded and let loose a barrage of suppressing fire.
I sprinted low across the open space, closing the distance to the nearest guard who pivoted toward me, his rifle tracking but I’d gotten too close before he saw me. I lunged for him, driving my forearm into his throat with crushing force. His eyes bulged as his windpipe collapsed, weapon clattering to the ground as he clutched at his neck.
A second guard rounded a stack of crates, firing wildly. I dropped to one knee, pulling my gun. My shot hit him center mass. He stumbled backward but kept coming, his body armor catching the round. My next shot found his face, blood spraying across the concrete wall behind him.
"Rocky, on your six!" Marcus shouted.
I spun, catching the wrist of a third guard as he swung his rifle toward me. The fine bones snapped under pressure, his scream cut short as I drove my knee into his belly. His weapon clattered uselessly to the floor as he doubled over. I finished him with a single shot to the back of the head.
"First section clear," Ghost's voice came through my earpiece, tight with controlled rage. "Moving to the back rooms."
Gunfire continued to echo through the warehouse as our teams pushed deeper into the building. Marcus appeared at my side, face grim beneath a streak of someone else's blood.
"East corridor secured," he reported. "Found another eight girls locked in a separate container. They need medical, fast."
I nodded, reloading my weapon. "Get them ready to move. Extraction team's three minutes out." My gaze swept over the cages nearest us, taking in the hollow-eyed stares, the trembling limbs, the silent tears tracking through grime on too-young faces.
A crash from the far end of the warehouse pulled my attention back to the fight. Jack's roar of rage echoed off the walls, followed by the distinctive sound of his shotgun. More guards must have emerged from the back rooms.
"Let's finish this," I told Marcus, gesturing toward the sound. "Bug, start getting these cages open. Extraction team will meet you here."
We moved deeper into the warehouse, toward the sounds of continuing battle. The fight had only just begun, and I knew the night would get bloodier before we got these girls to safety. But for the first time in months, I felt like I made a real difference. Killing these bastards felt more cathartic than something I should regret. People who could do these kinds of things to other people didn’t deserve a trial. They didn’t deserve a chance to explain their actions. What was there to explain? No. I would not be losing a moment’s sleep over killing any one of these bastards.
By the time we finished, blood painted the concrete floors in crimson streaks, shell casings rolled underfoot, and the air thickened with cordite and fear.
A guttural roar erupted from the far end of the space. I pivoted toward the sound, weapon raised, and caught sight of Jack's massive frame moving with shocking speed for a man his size. One of the Copperheads – Vex, I realized with grim satisfaction – had grabbed a half-naked girl from an open cage, pressing a pistol to her temple as he backed toward an exit.
"Drop your fucking weapons or I paint the floor with her brains," Vex shouted, his voice cracking with panic. The girl couldn't have been older than fifteen, her eyes vacant from whatever drugs they pumped into her system, tears streaming down her hollow cheeks and I knew she couldn’t fight back.
Jack didn't slow his advance. His face transformed into something barely human, a mask of pure rage that made even my blood run cold. Vex fired a warning shot into the ceiling, tightening his grip on the girl.
"I fucking mean it!" he screamed.
Jack closed the distance between him and Vex in two massive strides, his hand shooting out to grip Vex's gun wrist, forcing it upward as the weapon discharged again. The girl crumpled to the floor, suddenly free as Jack pinned Vex against the wall with his forearm across the man's throat.
"You use children as shields?" Jack growled, his voice dropping to a register so low it felt like gravel in my ears. Then Jack put his pistol in the hollow of Vex’s shoulder and pulled the trigger. Unfortunately for Vex, Jack’s pistol happened to be a .375. When the bullet tore through Vex’s shoulder, most of his arm came detached from the rest of his body. Course, some of his arm didn’t detach. Basically, the thing hung uselessly at his side.