Page 21 of Hero's Heart

“Fuck,” Callum muttered. They had no laptops with them, and there was no way they could talk freely. New intel didn’t mean abort, but 911 meant something important.

Can you text it? We’re about to move in.

Two hostages.

Callum stared down at Lincoln’s message. What the actual fuck?

Confirmed?

I just intercepted a text about BOTH hostages being in the southwest cellar.

Roger. We’ll see what we can do.

Callum slipped his phone back into his tactical vest. “Okay, looks like the game just got a little more exciting.”

Theo grinned. “Just the way I like it.”

“We’re going to help this other person if we can, but Marissa Getty is still our priority. If we have to leave the other person behind, then we will. But only if there’s no other choice.”

Both of the other men nodded.

“Okay, comms in. Let’s do this.”

They all slid their earpieces in and began moving forward. Callum scanned the area, his sharp eyes catching the faint glow of a security light near the barn. One guard paced nearby, his movements lazy and distracted. Another faint silhouette could be seen near the farmhouse’s front porch.

“Sloppy,” Bear murmured, his voice barely audible.

“Remember. In and out. No unnecessary risks.”

Theo nodded, his dark clothing blending seamlessly with the night. “Perimeter’s thin. Back door should be clear.”

The three men moved silently, skirting the barn, keeping to the shadows, and reached the back of the farmhouse. Callum tested the door—it creaked slightly, but it gave.

Inside, the air was thick and stale, carrying the faint odors of damp wood and sweat. The hallway was dimly lit but quiet. They could hear a television running in the farthest room. No doubt the guards would rather be there than out in the cold night.

Theo motioned toward a narrow door at the opposite end of the hallway. “Cellar should be through there and attached to the tunnel.”

Callum nodded and led the way. The old wooden door groaned softly as he opened it, revealing a steep, narrow staircase descending into darkness. A faint light flickered below, casting eerie shadows on the stone walls.

They descended quickly but quietly, their weapons at the ready. At the bottom of the stairs, the tunnel began. They kept to the wall, ready to take out any guards, but none seemed to be around.

A few feet farther, they found a heavy metal door. Callum gave Theo a look, and the younger man stepped forward, working quickly to pick the lock—a skill Callum knew he’d learned from his mother. It clicked open a few seconds later.

Bear covering him, Callum pushed open the door, hoping they weren’t about to find dead bodies inside.

Bear dropped low, swinging his weapon to the right, Callum staying right behind him, higher, moving to the left. Theo remained out in the tunnel to cover their sixes.

Callum could hear gasps as they entered, but he discarded the sound, recognizing after just a split second it was coming from the hostages.

Hostages—plural. Lincoln’s intel had been correct. There were two people in the room sitting on the ground, hands tied.

“Clear,” Bear muttered, lowering his weapon.

Callum took a couple more steps, making sure there were no surprise guards behind the now-open door, then did the same. “Clear.”

His attention turned to the women sitting on the ground, hands bound, on opposite sides of the room from each other. He narrowed his eyes when he couldn’t immediately pick out which one was Marissa Getty…

Because they both looked too similar.

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