Page 1 of Stone Cold Sinner

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“Unsub down,” Coy said lowly through his comms after firing a shot and taking down his immediate target.

“Oh, you’re back to talking to us again,” Killion replied from a remote command center as he oversaw the lone wolf mission Coy Stone was embarking upon. “How many have you neutralized?”

Coy huffed in anger. “Clearly not enough. These bastards are everywhere.”

“I told you to wait for backup,” Killion warned.

“And I told you, I don’t have time. This is a quick in and quick out,” Coy defended. “I have places to be.”

“Quick? It’s a heavily guarded compound the size of a small town and saturated with unfriendlies who are willing to die for their cause, Coy.”

“Their cause?” he rebuked as he navigated the dark, cold cave-like hallways that reeked of diabolical deeds and repulsive desires. “Saving puppies, or in this case, young women and children, is a cause.”

“Copy that.” Killion agreed. “Just don’t go rogue on me again. I can’t help navigate you if you go cold. The package?”

“Not secured,” Coy chided. “This place is full of Vic’s. I just found a few dozen more and sent them your way. Have someone meet them. These women are…”

Coy couldn’t bring himself to say the words as there weren’t any adequate to describe what he’d witnessed. Rooms full of beds, separated by thin linens that wore a story of horror. Women, some too young to refer to as such, tied down, drugged even, covered in filth, and the disgust their deplorable offenders left behind. Scars, the kind that were visible but, more importantly, the kind that lived and danced in your nightmares, would threaten to imprison these women’s memories forever. Like shackles, the images of the aftermath roiled in his gut and seared Coy’s soul.

“God help them…” Coy finally said.

“I think He did. They survived the devil’s lair, and they’re escaping his playground. Thanks to you,” Wit said, entering the conversation with his twangy drawl.

“I guess I’m a fucking angel then,” Coy added. “Too bad this place needs more of a saint.”

“We can’t control what happened there or what led to it, but we can help control the outcomes for the ones making it out,” Wit continued. “The good ones and the bad.”

“There’s a special place in hell for the latter,” Coy chimed in. “It’s getting quiet down here.”

“I have two heat registers in your path,” Wit said. “Headed your way.”

Coy quickly answered, “Locked and loaded.”

“I didn’t say they were hostiles, Stone. Keep that twitchy trigger finger in check, man,” Wit warned. Coy Stone had a tendency to go rogue and break all the rules in the name of justice. His kind of justice.

“I got it. You don’t need to worry about me,” Coy defended. Coy was also a liar. Everyone worried about him. Especially in cases like this, which hit so close to home for him. It was like reliving his own version of hell each and every time.

He didn’t make mistakes, though, at least in his opinion. He was trigger-happy and put down the worst the world had to offer and with no hesitation… or remorse. For him, it was both vengeance and penance, whether it was his to claim or not, for a past he lived a lifetime ago. No matter how many times he pulled that trigger, seeking revenge and solace, it did little to soothe his heart and comfort his soul, and he moved on, hoping the next one would right the wrongs that haunted him. And that’s why they worried about him. All the operatives at BK Security worried about him and his wild card nature. Their firm was comprised of the elite and sophisticated operatives that protected the world’s wealthiest and most powerful. From Hollywood to global powers, their reach was far and wide, and for good reason –– they were the best.

Their most significant contracts were with the United States government, but you wouldn’t find a record of that anywhere. BK Security was highly sought after, but only by those who knew they existed, as they were very much off the grid when it came to publicity. This exclusive group of operatives was tough, smart, and fucking intimidating. Especially Coy Stone, whose history of nightmares gave him an ax to grind and a history to rewrite. A history that nightmares were made of.

Two shots rang out over the comms, but Coy’s team sat in silence, not knowing if he was the one delivering a reckoning or the one meeting his maker for judgment day.

After a long spell, Wit caved. “Shit. Stone? Status?”

“I’m great,” he said in a low monotone voice full of menace.

“Then how about the two you just shot?” Wit asked.

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Coy was a good guy, but when it came to the malicious, soulless monsters he was hunting, he was ruthless, heartless, cold, and cunning.

“You should,” Killion corrected. “The calvary coming is still too far out to take chances. You better make sure they’re dead because if they get back up…”

“Then I shoot them again,” Coy finished, then fired two more shots before moving on within the compound.

“What the hell was that?” Killion questioned with skepticism.

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