Page 12 of Defy

I’ve been back less than twenty-four hours and already I’m given another order to kill. I knew it was coming, but I didn’t expect it to be quite this fast. I’m caught off guard again when Diego holds out a sniper rifle for me.

Something doesn’t add up. Talk about starting a war. These guys are doingreconand my father wants me to blast a hole a mile wide through their skulls.

“What aren’t you telling me? Why is this so urgent? So, they’re staking out in front of the house?” I can’t bring myself to see the issue. It’s not great that they’re milling about, but then can’t get through the stone wall or gate and I doubt they’re dumb enough to try. Our guards will put them down before they even reach the concrete drive thatleadsto the gate.

Omar lets out a sharp, breath indicating his frustration. “They have your brother.”

“What?” I say out of shock more than out of a need to have him repeat himself. “How the fuck did that happen?” I can barely contain the laughter in my voice.

I watch as my father’s discomfort grows. “I can only venture a guess but I’m assuming Luis wanted the praise for handling the situation and the ability to gloat over saving your ass for a second time. The cameras show that, apparently, he didn’t count on someone being behind the tree.”

I’m openly laughing into my hand now. Even though it hurts, I can’t seem to stop. “You’re telling me one of these assholes was hiding behind atreeand got the jump on him?” It’s so ridiculous and elementary that I’m having a hard time believing Luis – a man who undoubtedly shares my biology – could be so unaware. Or so stupid to just walk out to the idling car.

My father stays silent as he glowers at me and nods to the sniper rifle. “Just go deal with it.”

“You’re arming me?” I ask, slightly bewildered.

“Don’t make me regret it,” is all he says as he starts going over the plan with Carlos, Diego and I. We’re to head to the roof and follow the south facing wall around the edge of the property. From there, we should have a clear vantage point to take out the driver and the man holding Luis. We’re sending Carlos and another member of our team after the third man once Luis is safe.

I follow Diego along the rooftop wall, crouching and moving slowly because of my ribs. At least I can see out of my eye again, despite the swelling. Thankfully, I can take the shot from a kneeling position instead of lying prone on my stomach and although I have to shoot left-handed, there is minimal recoil which allows my pain to stay under control and my aim steady.

The rifle feels familiar in my hands and although I haven’t used a sniper rifle in almost two decades, I don’t miss a beat. Looking through the high-powered scope, I find Luis first. They’ve got him in the back seat already, assuming someone is going to come outside looking for him. They’ll want to negotiate me for him.

Idiots.

There’s a man in the driver’s seat with a gun pointed at Luis and a man in the passenger seat presumably doing the same thing but I can’t see his hand from here. The third man can’t be accounted for and he certainly isn’t hiding behind a fucking tree anymore.

“Eyes on Luis as well as Target One and Target Two,” I clip quietly into the radio.

“Copy that. Still looking for T3,” comes Carlos’ reply.

Until he’s found, we can’t do anything because he could just as easily be watching us or our guy on the ground. If we shoot too early, any of us could be dead at the same time.

Finally, we hear his voice come again over the radio. “Eyes on T3. He’s overwatch for the other two. At your two o’clock, across the street.”

“10-4. Standby.”

“Roger that.”

We all need to get our shots off at the same time. And we can’t miss or Luis will likely catch one of their bullets in the face. I have a lot of mixed feelings about my brother. The most prominent one being disgust, but avenging Adriana’s death means ending my parents, not Luis. Besides, if I fail at this mission, the likelihood at getting another chance isn’t high. I need to prove my skills haven’t waned any.

With everyone in place, fingers on our triggers, we give a countdown and then open fire. My bullet finds its target with ease as if a magnet pulled it home. The spray of red against the windshield confirms my kill through the scope.

Diego’s is the same and I hear him laughing just as our radio cracks to life again. “Target 3, confirmed kill.”

“Target 1, confirmed kill.”

“Target 2, confirmed kill.”

Omar’s voice comes over the radio next. “Good job, men. Now someone get Luis out of that damn car. I’m waiting in the conference room.”

“On it.” The guy with Carlos is closer than Diego and I, so he runs off toward the car.

As we head down off the roof, Diego’s still giggling like a little girl, drawing my attention. “What’s so funny, Chuckles?”

“Man, you should have seen your face. Did you know you grin like a motherfucker when you squeeze a trigger?” he asks.

“I do not,” I growl back.

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