Page 105 of Striker
A cool breeze blew over her still-wet body. She shuddered, wishing she could burrow under the blankets. But she couldn’t move. Besides, she didn’t want to sleep anymore.
Every sense was on high alert.
Soon, it’d be morning. With it would come a whole new set of horrors. She had to stay strong. Maybe she could persuade Willy to take the tape off her mouth so she could speak with him.
Not that it would matter.
He’d already disclosed his illegal dealings. Heinous ones. There was no way he’d let her walk away. A moan caught in the back of her throat and frustration brought tears to her eyes.
Yanking on the ropes, she twisted to her back. She pulled her arms and legs away from each other, huffing and puffing.
Hopelessness stole her next breath.
There was nothing she could do.
Chapter
Twenty-Six
Atlas broke the surface. The taste of salty water sat in his mouth. He stayed low, exposing only his eyes, nose, and mouth to the air. He treaded carefully, staying beneath the dock.
Viper bumped his shoulder as he came up for air. He too stayed low. Rogue and Havoc were next. All four of them bobbed beneath the wooden planks.
A boat wobbled near them. It was tied to the side of the dock.
“Move in.” Rogue’s barely audible command urged Atlas forward.
He skimmed through the water until his toes touched the ground. He stood under the dock with the others.
“Havoc, you and I will circle the perimeter and eliminate hostiles. Viper, you and Striker get to the nearest door and find Molly.”
“Copy,” Atlas said.
Viper passed out their earpieces and Atlas stuffed one into his ear canal. Urgency flooded his veins. He wanted inside. Now. Viper must have sensed his mood because he waded ahead.
Atlas followed, ducking under the planks. They reached the shore. His boots dug into tiny grains of sand as he stalked up the bank. A set of stairs came into view, but he motioned for Viper to followed him into the forest.
They veered right and Rogue and Havoc went left. Climbing the stairs would be faster, but they’d more likely be spotted.
He leapt over a small stream, and his sodden boots squelched in the soft earth. He climbed up the steep hill, pushing branches and leaves away from his face.
Hungry insects feasted on his cheeks and neck, but he was too focused to even slap them away. Finally, they’d gone as far as they could. The house sat before them.
He dropped to one knee behind a large rock and studied the backyard landscape.
A balcony jutted out from the second floor. If he weren’t mistaken, that was the room in which he’d spotted someone sleeping from the drone. Beneath there was grass that sloped away from the house. On the lower level was a large window. Patio stones stretched up the east side of the yard like stairs carved out of the ground.
No lights shone in the windows.
Voices sounded and grew louder.
“What’s your position?” he said into the mic.
“West side of the house,” Havoc said. “No hostiles.”
“We’ve got two approaching.”
“Hold fire until we’re in position,” Rogue ordered.
