Bound By Blood: (The Betrayed Series Book 2) (22 page)

F
UCKING
E
LVIS AND HIS PROFOUND
words of wisdom or is it doom? Even days later that damn song is running on a continuous loop in my head. Suspicious Minds. Yep, I’m suspicious all right. I still can’t seem to wipe the vile taste of her off my lips. Sam glowers at me from across the conference table.

Inwardly, I sigh. That stings. Goddamn photographer, let me get my hands on him . . . Printing that damn picture in the post paper. As if one hadn’t been enough, that fucker had to go and print the entire spread like it was a fucking GQ photoshoot or some shit.

The whole team jumped down my throat for that one. None of it stung as hard as the disappointed look from the Colonel, though. Shit, one look at the photo and you can tell I wasn’t even kissing her. I mean, come on, my eyes are open, and my lips are sealed shut. Jeeezus, I’m a man, and when I kiss a woman, I kiss her for fuck’s sake.

Coming back to the present conversation, I listen to Sam ask, “Coop, have you heard from your informant?”

Cooper shakes his head and replies, “No, but I was thinking we’d be better off going in on our own.”

“How do you figure?” Brighton asks.

“Well, if we go in unannounced, it gives us the element of surprise. Less of a chance of Sang-Hyun bailing before we get there.” Apparently still pondering the plan of attack, he takes his lower lip into his mouth.

“That’s a good point,” I say, joining the conversation.

Sam scowls. It’s only there for a moment before he catches himself, replacing it with a blank mask. Fuck. This isn’t going to cut it. I’m going to have to sit them all down and straighten this shit out once and for all. Distractions kill, and this is one big ass distraction.

The door bursts open and Colonel Black comes rushing in, his face flushed red, copious amounts of sweat pouring down his forehead. If I hadn’t known better, I’d of thought he’d just finished a twelve-mile ruck march. Leaning over, he places his hands on the table and gulps down air for several moments. Six pairs of eyes watch intently, waiting for him to speak. Colonel Black inhales one last time before saying in a rush, “One of the informants contacted us. We have a location.”

“WHAT!” Colonel Parker and I yell simultaneously, coming to a stand.

Shaking his head vigorously, he says, “An abandoned warehouse not too far from here.”

“Give me the coordinates,” Colonel Parker demands.

Colonel Black is hesitant as he asks, “You’re going?”

“Give. Me. The. Coordinates,” Colonel Parker demands again, holding his hand out for emphasis.

My heart gives a thud. The thought of having my Goddess back in my arms is damn near enough to bring me to my knees.

Reluctantly, Colonel Black hands the information over as he says, “This Op has been cleared through all channels, and you’ve been given the green light. The Korean government even signed off on it. I don’t have to tell you that time is of the essence, so move fast.”

Colonel Parker snatches the coordinates from his hand and turns, drilling me with his gaze. A silent understanding passes between us, an unspoken promise shared as our eyes remain locked together. Neither of us moves, each of us displaying unflinching determination, silently communicating to the other that above all, she comes first.

No matter what happens today, she will come out of this alive. No matter the cost. No one will get in our way. No one will stop us. She will come home . . . today. With a nod, I turn, addressing my team with determination. “Load Up. It’s time to rescue our Goddess.”

Fists pound against the table, choruses of “Hell yeah” rumbling around the room. The first out, I take off, jogging down the hall toward our destination. Reaching the room in record time, I grab a modular body armor vest and toss it on over my civis. Two steps, that’s all it takes for me to reach the holding area for the weapons. Grabbing a duffle bag off the shelf, I start shoving ammo in, loading up with everything I think we might need.

Thirty round magazines for the CQBR assault rifles, fifteen box round magazines for the Glock 22 pistols. Clip after clip gets thrown into the bag, along with both offensive and fragmentation grenades. Sam moves in beside me, reaching over and tossing a few extra magazine clips into the bag.

Quirking an eyebrow, I ask, “Everyone geared up?”

Chuckling, he responds, “When have we ever not been geared up?”

“Everybody’s a bloody comedian,” I mutter.

“No, you’re stressed, and besides, YOU are one to talk considering you just said bloody. You sound like frickin’ Brighton now. Of course everyone is locked and loaded. We’re all dressed for the ball in our MBAVs. We even accessorized.” All of the tension we’ve carried between us drains.

Smiling, he pats me on the back and says, “Let’s go, Alpha. You’ve got a Goddess to rescue, remember?”

A huge grin splits my face. “Damn right I do,” I reply.

Loading the gear into the two unmarked black SUVs, we speed off in the direction of the abandoned warehouse. Adrenaline pushes at the edges of my skin, causing me to be on alert, constantly watching my surroundings. The city passes us by in a blur as my heart hammers uncontrollably in my chest. To the average person, I look calm and collected, the cool level headed leader I always am. On the inside, I’m a jumbled mess. I’m in knots.

Thought after thought continues to pop into my head, each one accompanied by a new image. What condition will I find her in? Will she be alive? Does Kylee want to be found? Will she want to still be with me? I swallow uncomfortably with the last thought.

Don’t be a putz, Grant. Of course she wants to be with you. Why wouldn’t she? Unless she’s seen those damn pictures, and then you’ve got some explaining to do. But, fuck, you’ve been through worse.

Tapping my heel on the floor, I ask Brighton through the COM, “What’s the ETA?”

Glancing in the rearview mirror, he replies, “You don’t need to use that yet.”

My heel raps faster on the floorboard. Growling, I snap, “Just answer the damn question.”

Chuckling, he responds, “No need to get testy, there, Alpha. ETA to our girl is about three minutes.”

“Drive faster.”

“Would you like for me to run the pedestrians over too? Like the real live version of Angry Birds only with cars and people?” He quips.

“I think you and Noah have been spending too much time together,” I grumble. Brighton snickers, focusing his attention back on the road.

Alone with my tempestuous thoughts once again, images assault me, each one more graphic than the next. All detailed and showing how I might find my Goddess when we arrive. Sickness churns like a lead ball in my intestines, weighing me down. Brighton’s thick English brogue filters through the churning haze, bringing me back.

“Alpha?”

“Yeah?”

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, why?”

“I called your name three times,” he replies.

Shit, I’ve got to get my head in the game. This is for my Goddess, and the most important thing is getting her home safely.

Nodding, I reply, “Yeah, I’m good, man.”

He gestures out the window. “We’re here.”

A deep, dark growl spills forth in the confines of the vehicle.

Smirking, Brighton says, “Hey, I’m right there with you, big boy. We’re actually about a block away. The longer we manage to remain unseen, the better her chances of survival.”

A lump forms in my throat, the barely contained emotion I’ve been reeling in for the last several days surging forward. It takes all of my willpower not to choke up. My heart swells with pride for the men on my team. The lengths they will go to not only for Kylee, but any Op we work. I hold nothing but the utmost respect for each and every one of my brothers.

Suppressing the thick emotion, I slip back into my Alpha role. “Let’s move.”

Reaching for the door, I step out and watch everyone file out around me. Eagerness and determination line the faces of each member of my team as they reach in, grabbing weapons, loading up with as much ammo as they can carry. Laden with grenades, magazine clips, assault rifles, and Glocks, we’re finally ready to move out. Every cell in my body hums, tingling with anticipation for what’s to come.

“Is this unit ready to move out?” I demand, my tone chock-full of authority.

Choruses of “Yes, sir” echo around me. I’m taken aback when Colonel Parker follows my lead. Giving me a wink, he falls in line as if he were any other soldier and not technically my superior.

Blowing out a long breath and smiling, I say, “All right. Let’s do this shit. Brighton, let’s see the area you mapped out for us to travel.” Brighton comes around to the front of the vehicle and lays a map on the hood. Smoothing it out with his hand, he points to a thin red line he’s drawn across the crumpled paper.

“We’ll follow this path here”—he points to the map for emphasis—“sticking to the shadows as much as possible. I tapped into all the security feeds, cutting the cameras starting in”—he glances down at this watch—“two minutes from now. Once the feeds are cut, we can stick to the shadows, avoiding all detection, if we do it right.” Pausing, he continues tracing the line up to an area circled in black.

“This area here . . .” He draws in a breath. “There weren’t any cameras that gave me a direct view of the building. The closest I was able to get was a street cam. The best I can tell is, it’s exactly like the informant said: an abandoned warehouse. What kind or what’s inside . . . your guess is as good as mine. Which means we’re going in blind.”

A pang of uncertainty punctures my confidence at the less than ideal situation. Indecision eats away at me as my mind races with possibilities. Feeling flustered, I ask, “So we have no idea what kind of warehouse it is?”

Brighton’s brow dips low into an angry crease. Shaking his head, he replies, “No, I wasn’t able to get that info. It could be an old storage warehouse, a packing plant . . . hell, it could be a damn auto body shop for all I know.”

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it so just make sure that you’re all on alert and keep your eyes and ears open for anything. First priority is securing the Goddess, are we clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“All right. Let’s move out.”

Leading the way, I quickly settle into a brisk jog, sticking to the shadows. Coming to the first alleyway, I extend my arm, palm facing in their direction, giving the signal for them to stop. Peering around the corner, I check to ensure we’re in the clear. Lowering my arm, my palm turns toward me as I motion for them to move up. Sam is right on my heels as we silently advance through the backstreets. Sliding along the wall, my breath catches in the back of my throat as the back door bursts open an inch from my face.

A stout Korean woman looms in the doorway. With a grunt, she heaves a bag into the alley. Breathing heavily, she hinges at the waist, gripping her knees. For several long moments, she rasps noisily, dragging breath after breath into her lungs. With a pained groan, she uses the doorway to slowly climb back to an upright position. Panting wildly, she turns then disappears back inside the store.

Static crackles over the COM. “That was a close one,” Noah’s deep tenor crackles in my ear.

No shit. Blowing out a breath, I ask, “Chaos, everything clear up ahead?”

Brighton checks the feed from his handheld. “As far as I can tell, we’re still in the clear. No movement from the site.”

There’s a slight chill, a nervous energy I can’t seem to shake. A small part of me says,
“Be wary, all is not as it seems.”
If only I could put my finger on exactly what it is. . . . Mentally, I tell myself to stop overreacting.

With a quick signal to the team, we resume our rigorous pace and in a matter of minutes, we close in on the warehouse. Just outside the rendezvous point, we pause, taking up our positions. Scanning the area, I take in the structure, observing the building and any points of entry or possible exits. Dirt and grime streak the yellow and green cement walls. The only point of entry is a side entrance just off of the alley. Mechanical bay doors that had once been the main thruway for the warehouse are now bricked over and sealed with a bright yellow plaster.

Brightly colored graffiti tags the right side of the building, making it look more decorative than abandoned. Thick swirls of olive green make up the body of a large scaly dragon with tiny accents of red to accentuate the nose and underneath his eyes. Infuriated white eyes scowl, peering out from beneath large bushy green brows. Hints of white and black were added to the dragon’s mask to show his anger. Gleaming teeth and large white horns stand out among the olive green and pure amethyst background. A puff of grayish-black smoke billows from the dragon’s nostrils as he rides an amethyst tidal wave that comes crashing down to a savage end into a merciless red shoreline.

There is only one window that exists in the entire place . . . and it’s the size of a bathroom vent. The window sits perpendicular to the main roofline and cut at such an angle that I question its authenticity. The location is small, and it’s seen better days. The tin roof is in disarray, and the cement walls are crumbling in places. That nagging feeling smacks at the back of my subconscious again.

With my left arm poised in the air, I give the signal to file into formation and move in. First to the door, I pause, Sam and Brighton flanking my left, the Colonel, Noah, and Cooper on my right. As soundlessly as possible, I twist the handle on the door then give it a little shove. My eyes widen when the door doesn’t creak. It’s surprising considering the state the exterior of the building is in. I motion for my team to take cover and move out of sight.

After several heartbeats of silence, I peer around the door to the vast empty space. Crouching low, I half-run, half-crawl to a long shelf just beyond the door. My heart thrums a mile a minute, the intensity ratcheting up my anxiety level. The space seems utterly deserted. Motioning for the Colonel to enter, I watch as he takes cover behind a matching shelf on the other side of the door. Brighton, Sam, and Noah soon follow.

Silence. There’s still no sign of life in this warehouse. Where in the hell is everyone? Extending my arm, I motion for Cooper to freeze. He comes to a silent halt as I incline my head to the side. I listen intently, looking for any signs of an ambush, anyone who might be lying in wait, desperate to attack.