Page 65 of Wizard's Spitfire

My hackles go up immediately but by the time he finishes talking I’d calmed down enough to realize he’s right. I could handle myself in a fight and I’m good with a gun, but I’ve never been in a live fire fight. If I hesitated or fucked up, it’s my girls’ lives on the line.

“I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand.”

He drops a kiss on the top of my head. “Thank you, tesoro.”

Wizard takes a minute to get me settled at the command center. As he finishes giving me an overview, Bug arrives as do most of the Kings.

Heart beating in my throat I turn my attention to the monitors and watch the events unfold before my eyes.

Chapter 44

Wizard

As soon as Bug arrives, we haul ass to the armory. Five minutes later, we’re all on our sleds and headed to the gate. I’m shocked as hell to find Vega and Simmons on police sleds ready for us. They turn on their sirens and we race through the streets of New Orleans.

My thoughts going to our prospects. Not a damn one we sent in the school is military trained. That doesn’t mean they’re going to fuck up. It just means they’re going to have a harder time figuring out what to do.

Last count, there was a team of six gunmen on the campus. I have a feeling that’s not all the forces they are sending. Barnes and Petrov have lost their fucking minds sending armed men into a school to kidnap three teenagers.

We park about half a block away and head into the back of the school grounds. Gambit leads the way, and we march double-time to the school grounds. Our cuts are over our full tac gear. I want those Russian fuckers to know who’s ending their miserable lives.

Each of those low life fuckers is wanted DEAD or alive. I vote dead. Human trafficking filth doesn’t deserve to breathe.Harsh?Maybe, but I’ve seen firsthand via Alena, the woman we rescued. We didn’t get to her before she was raped and prostituted out.

A few of the prospects are zipping by the school on different streets as a distraction, taking time to rev their engines to coverour entrance onto school grounds. The marshals meet us by the back entrance. We speak in hushed tones using our coms.

“No sign of the girls,” Marshal Balke says. “We have infiltrators in the school and headed to the sports complex.”

Gambit nods. “Team Alpha first floor. Delta takes the second floor. Charlie heads to the sports complex. Beta hit the boiler room before floating. Doc, Nay, you’re on triage. Everyone else, spread out. Save lives. Send some nasty fuckers to the crossroads and let's get our girls.”

I head off to the sports complex with Angel, Boomer, and Smoke.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

Fuck, shots fired. We race in the direction of the gunfire. There are kids running and screaming in all directions. It looks like there’s at least one class in the complex. I think class size is around fifteen to twenty.

“Shots fired at the sports complex. Charlie team moving in,” Smoke calls over the coms.

Then he signals us to divide into teams of two. Boomer and Angel take off in one direction while Smoke and I head in another. We pass the soccer field, ball-diamond, and approach the first field locker room.

The door is metal with no windows. I look at Smoke and he gives me the nod. I grab the handle, pulling it open. Smoke clears the door. I follow behind him. On silent feet, we search the locker room. First going down the rows of benches and lockers before heading into the bathroom area. There are two rows of stalls. I take one while Smoke handles the other. I look for feet first before opening each door.

Smoke and I meet at the end. He gives the all-clear signal. I nod and mirror the signal. The shower curtains end about three inches above the floor. A large three-foot mirror spans most of one wall of the room. Below is a waist high counter with sinksand faucets interspersed throughout. I look in the mirror and spot several pairs of shoes huddled in the far corner.

“Federal Marshalls, come out with your hands up.”

“Who’s the fifth president of the US?” a terrified voice asks.

“James Monroe.”

Smoke joins me as harsh whispers come from the back shower. About a minute later, the curtain opens, and a teen girl steps out with her hands up. Three others follow.

Smoke speaks up. “I’m calling for backup. They’ll take you to safety. Do you know where the Caruso triplets are?”

One of the girls stammers. “They went to the field with the rest of the class.”

“We were running behind,” another stammers.

“Four need escorts, girls’ field locker. Cerberus last reported on the way to the field,” Smoke says.

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