“I can do it,” volunteers Xavier. He meets my gaze, waiting for an answer.
While a part of me wants to go myself, to put eyes on the house again, I know I can’t do everything. So I give him a quick chin lift in affirmation. “Do it.”
He’s back before we’re even done checking our weapons, a grim smile touching his lips. “The two sides of the house I could see were all boarded up. The grass and shrubs have grown up along the walls, so they’re partially blocking the windows, too. And there’s a small shed that will add some cover on our approach.”
Rhiannon pulls out her phone and shows us the satellite image of the house on her screen. “Front door and back. I’m thinking we meet behind the shed, then split up to both doors.” She looks at me. “What do you think?”
Instinct urges me to sprint over there, strategy be damned, break down the door and take down Tamara withwhatevermethods necessary. To bust inside like an avenging hero and rush my Sarah to safety.
But I know what needs to be done, and it’s not following my emotions. “It’s a good idea.” Pausing, I take a moment to sort through my thoughts. “We stop behind the shed, like Rhi suggested. Then Xavier and Niall head to the front porch. Erik, Rhiannon, and myself will head to the back. Once we determine where Tamara is, we’ll decide who moves in first.”
Casting a quick glance around our small huddle, my voice gets rough as I add, “We’ll try for non-lethal, but if it comes to Sarah’s safety…”
Niall’s gaze is filled with somber understanding. “Whatever it takes to protect Sarah.”
“Are we ready?” I ask. My hand settles on my Sig. “Everyone good with their gear?”
A chorus of lowyesesfollows.
“Okay.” I raise my hand in a hold gesture as I meet the solemn gazes of my teammates. Like me, their expressions are stony. Determined. Shoulders are set. Muscles tensed.
On a silent prayer, I drop my hand.
Please. Let me not be too late.
We sprint across the grassy field, one after another, our steps silent and steady just as we’ve been trained. Once we converge behind the tiny shed, Niall pulls out a thermal camera and points it at the house. “Looks like two heat signatures in the front,” he says quietly. “Based on the pictures we saw online, they’re in the living room.”
My legs go weak with relief. Two heat signatures. Which means Sarah’s still alive.
With a quick nod, I say, “Then it’ll be me, Erik, and Rhiannon entering first, from the back. We’ll move through the kitchen and into the dining room. If Tamara is unarmed, we’ll take her down right away. If not… we’ll have to assess once we’re inside.”
Xavier touches the tiny communication device pinned to his collar. “Just give us the signal when you want us to move.”
“Will do.” My jaw sets as I prepare for the next stage of our plan. Turning to Niall, I say, “If it comes to it, and you need to take a shot…”
As our resident sniper, Niall immediately knows what I mean. “I will.”
“Alright.” Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly. “It’s time to get in there and rescue Sarah.”
On my downward gesture, we move out again, this time crouching low as we run towards the house. Up close, it’sin worse shape than I realized—pieces of paneling falling off, shingles missing, trash and broken glass amid the overgrown grass—and I feel sick to think of Sarah inside, frightened and possibly in pain.
Lock it down.
Don’t think about that now.
Focus on getting Sarah out. Worry about the rest later.
As we round the side of the house, I can hear the faint sound of a woman’s voice through the boarded-up windows. It rises and falls, angry at one moment, calm the next.
Not Sarah’s voice. It must be Tamara’s.
If she’s talking, that must mean Sarah’s conscious, right? Why else would Tamara be talking?
Unless she’s talking on the phone. Or she’s had a psychotic break.
At the back door, I stop and turn to Erik and Rhiannon. Pitching my voice low, I say, “Once we get inside, I’m going to try to get a bead on Tamara. Find out what kinds of weapons she has. Stay back in the kitchen until you get my signal.”
They both nod and murmur in unison, “Got it.”