them all to move their asses. “That was before he touched her .” Seeing Zain put his hands on Sadie—let alone cut her shirt—had decimated my rational thinking. It worked in our favor that he was too scared of me to hurt her now, but he was still enough of a loose cannon that retrieving Sadie wouldn’ t be as clear cut as I’d like. Vince shifted into reverse and peeled out of the driveway . “You don’t even want to know what Nasir asked for?” “Doesn’ t matter .” I’d give Nasir whatever he wanted if it meant getting Sadie back. Vince snorted. “Well, he didn’t want anything more than letting him and his family live. That’s how bad it is in Ali’s camp. Nasir worked under Zain’s father since he was a kid, but he’s ready to jump ship at the slightest sign of trouble with the son.” From the messy way Zain had handled that call, I didn’t blame Nasir. I wouldn’ t want to work for a hotheaded punk who abducted women and tried to strong-arm more powerful families either. “Do all Zain’s men feel that way?” “There’ s a mix,” he said as we flew down the road. “But I’d put money on there being less than fifteen men when we get there.” I sent another order to the group. “Let’s plan for more. He has plenty of time to call in reinforcements.” “Yeah, if only some jackass hadn’t told him to expect us,” Vince muttered dryly . I fought back a smile. Not my brightest moment, but... “I didn’t want Sadie to worry,” I said, before giving in to the urge to grin. “Besides, I’ve always liked a challenge.” Vince shook his head, but it was the truth. And there was something different about tonight. I could feel it in my veins the closer we got to where Zain had taken her . I’d grown numb to this life over the years. The killing and cruelty had lost their thrill a while ago. It was just another day at the of fice. But not anymore. Like a fog had lifted, my blood sang for violence. That motherfucker would die by my hands, and I had no intention of making it quick.
It took eleven minutes to assemble a team and meet up at Sadie’ s location. Eleven minutes too long. The suburban street didn’t pack in houses like sardines like the city did, and Zain’s large safe house loomed at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac. Cars filled the driveway and the shutters weren’t level, but the place was otherwise nondescript. Malcolm parked the Dog-Mobile down the street and hidden around a corner, where Bear and Sadie’s friends would be safe. The last thing our operation needed was them getting in volved—even if they had proven quite the rescue team. We had six SUVs lining the curb further down the street, hidden from sight of the safe house. I spent another precious three minutes going over our plan with everyone and passing out earpieces, then we split up into teams of three. We traveled through backyards, jumping chain-link fences and slinking through the brush before finding our positions around the perimeter of the house. Vince, Malcolm , and I crouched near the garage. With the element of surprise gone, we were countin g on stealth and accuracy . That meant no mistakes. I checked in with our sniper, who’d found a spot on the roof of a neighboring house. “Dante, any intel for us?” “Windows are boarded up, and I can’t get a read on any heat signatures.” His de ep voice came back crystal clear through my earpiece. “Strongly advise going in with weapons hot.” “Copy. Ke ep us updated if you see any runners.” I turned to Vince and Malcolm. “Shoot anything that moves and doesn’ t have pink hair .” Vince’s lips formed a thin, unamused line. “Davian.” “And no negotiating with Ali until I get eyes on Sadie,” I added. Touching my earpiece again, I made sure the other teams were in position and ready before giving the order . “Move in.” We cr ept toward the front porch, where Vince smashed through the door with a single well-placed kick. He led the way inside with a ballistic shield. Chaos erupted inside. Shouts and gunshots. Men leaning around corners to return fire. Malcolm and I shadowed Vince, covering him as another crash sounded from the back of the house—followed by more gunfire. I emptied two bullets into bodies before we cleared the foyer. We k ept forward, hugging the wall, and Vince took down another one in the next
room. Through the chaos, I didn’ t see any sign of Zain or his brother . “One down in the kitchen,” Shane called through my earpiece. “Kitchen cleared.” “Three down up front,” Vince responded. “Foyer and study cleared.” “Heard. Heading downstairs,” Shane said. I signaled across the foyer . “Next room.” A flash to our left drew my attention, and I swung my gun over . “Vince,” I hissed, not taking my eyes of f the spot. “T en o’clock.” “Got you covered,” he muttered, shifting to stand behind me. I cr ept closer. It was Fessy fleeing through a ransacked dining room. He limped between fallen furniture and stacks of boxes. I didn’t see any sign of a weapon on him. With a burst of speed, I snagged the little punk’s collar before he could get away and hauled him up until his gobsmacked face was close enough that I was breathing on him. He gasped for air and clawed at my wrist. “Where is she?” I ground out, his eyes widening in terror . He trembled in my grip like he was on the ver ge of pissing himself. “We didn’t touch her!” Fessy cried, kicking me in his desperation to get free. His feet bounced harmlessly off my legs. “She’s locked in a room upstairs, and she’ s fine. I swear . I’ll take you to her . Just don’ t hurt me.” Vince and Malcolm shifted past us to clear the next room, and I pressed the barrel of my gun under Fessy’ s chin. “Which room?” I asked with a calm I didn’ t feel. “Is she alone?” Fessy’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly , right as a high-pitched scream pierced the air above us. My blood turned to ice in my veins. Sadie . I flung Fessy aside like a rag doll and ran for the stairs.
S a d i e Sadie’s Guide to Hostage-T aking Being T aken Hostage Forming a Partnership with Y our Hostage Embracing the Hostage Lifestyle Not Freaking Out Es caping Being T aken Hostage (Again), T ip #33: Anything can be a weapon if you’r e desperate enough. 3 atience wasn’ t really my thing . I just wasn’t good at waiting, and I never had been. My baking instructor once claimed my biggest nemesis was an oven that hadn’t finished preheat ing yet. When I was six, my parents started the tradition of opening presents on &hristmas Eve because I just couldn’ t fall asle ep knowing they’d be waiting for me the next morning. When it came to training at the shelter , most of the dogs were better at sitting still than I was. But waiting in a musty, mold-infested room when I knew Davian was on his way had to take the cake for testing my patience. I adjusted my grip on the broom handle for the dozenth time since Fessy left, and I tried to hype myself up to es cape. I wasn’t feeling quite as brave now that it was my life on the line instead of Bear ’s. Muffled yelling traveled through the door, followed by loud bangs that made me jump. I placed a hand over my heart and forced myself to take a de ep breath. Hostage situations really weren’ t good for my blood pressure.