Page 182 of Wrecked
“What about torture?” Addison asked.
They grew silent while mulling that question.
“Depends,” Prescott replied, after a long moment.
“I agree,” Hawk said.
“We won’t know until we’re there,” Prescott said.
“Who’s dealing with the trailer?” Hawk asked.
“I hate splitting us up,” Addison said. “We’re already outnumbered.”
“But we’ve got the element of surprise,” Prescott said. “That’s gotta count for something.”
“We’ll hit the trailer first, then breach the compound,” Hawk said.
Their conversation continued until they solidified their plan, were in complete agreement, and ran through best- and worst-case scenarios.
“We go in together,” Hawk said.
“We come out together,” Prescott said.
“And we waste every last one of those scumbags,” Addison added.
They’d each come dressed in black. No jewelry. Wallets and cell phones were left on the conference room table. Moving as a pack, with Addison in the middle, they headed toward the equipment room.
Additional weapons were secured, Kevlar vests went on, comms were checked. Hawk pocketed a burner. After collecting their helmets equipped with night vision goggles, they made their way to the chopper, waiting on the far side of the large ALPHA parking lot.
It was ten past eleven. Hawk spent the next fifteen doing his pre-flight check. With that completed, they climbed into the smaller Bell helicopter. Addison rode shotgun, Prescott in the back.
Seatbelts buckled, headsets on, they were ready to do this.
Hawk cleared to fly by ATC, then lifted off the ground. “Let’s go get those motherfuckers.”
During the thirty-six-minute flight, they moved into mission mode. Addison focused on her breathing, recalled the faces of the terrorists they were hunting. The senior Haqazzii had done so much damage to humankind. His son was just as much of a menace. While this was a dangerous mission, she wasn’t nervous. Her senses were hyperaware, and she knew the risks. She was working with two of the best Operatives ALPHA had in its arsenal, and she was confident they’d get the job done.
Hawk landed the bird a mile from the compound. Helmets on, goggles in place, they attached the silencers before making their way on foot.
The compound was surrounded by an eight-foot fence. Rather than climb over, they found the double-wide doors.
“Breach,” Hawk murmured before shooting out the lock.
Prescott pulled open the door, stuck his head inside, then retreated. “It’s quiet. There’s a light on in the trailer.”
“Guard dogs?” Addison murmured.
“Nothing… yet,” Prescott replied.
They each pulled their second weapon, made their way to the trailer, took their positions around it.
“On two,” Prescott said at the front door. “One…”
Hawk pulled open the door. Prescott rushed in, Hawk close on his heels.
POP-POP-POP-POP.
“Two men down,” Prescott said.
