Page 45 of Skull

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Walker movedlike a shadow through the darkness, her pulse steady but thrumming with a fierce, personal determination. Tonight wasn’t about flags or agencies. It was about Cooper “Skull” Sullivan, the man she’d been forced to leave behind for the sake of an innocent family. That decision had sliced through her like a blade to the gut. She imagined Skull’s defiant gaze as he faced his captors alone, battered but unbowed. She remembered how he had sent his hand over his heart when he’d said he wasn’t alone, and that only made her own heart melt, fueling the cold fury in her veins.

She crept around the perimeter of the warehouse, pausing only when a soft scrape caught her ear. Instantly, her knife was in her hand. A heartbeat later, she exhaled in relief. That shape was a steadfast and determined Malinois. His muzzle twitched as he searched for any sign of his handler. The dog’s intense eyes met hers, demanding answers she didn’t have time to give.

“Aren’t you the persistent one?” she whispered, managing a tight smile. “All right, boy, let’s get him out.”

Of course, Bones had returned. His loyalty to Skull ran as deep as her own feelings for the man. She took a moment to scratch the dog’s ears, heart clenching at what they were about to face together. Eight armed men in close quarters were no joke, but she and Bones had both been trained to operate in darkness, to strike and vanish. Besides, she’d tackled worse odds than this.

Keeping low, Walker edged toward a gap in the corrugated wall, making a slow sweep around the structure. Two guards loomed near a side entrance. In the hush, they never heard her approach. She dispatched them both with silent precision, barely a flicker of motion in the gloom. Once they were down, she wiped her blade on one man’s shirt and angled toward a broken window for a better look inside.

Through the lens of her night vision, she spotted four figures lit by the glow of a flickering lantern. Okay, her man had eliminated two men all by himself. That made the odds a little better. Three men were by a collapsed section of floor and another was watching the doorway. No sign of Skull. But Walker knew he was in there somewhere in those shadows. Anger coiled tight in her chest at the thought of what the death squad might have in store for him.

She slipped back to where she’d stashed Bones behind a sagging stack of crates. “Stay close,” she murmured, pointing to indicate the direction of their approach. The dog’s ears perked, and he pressed himself into her side, alert and focused. Together, they slid through the gap in the wall. Crouching behind another pile of debris, Walker raised a fist, freezing them both. Footsteps approached—a guard, the one she’d seen by the doorway. If she went for him now, it might alert the men deeper inside. But waiting came with its own risks.

Walker’s breathing slowed, her mind gliding into the assassin’s calm she knew so well. If they wanted to hurt Skull, they’d have to get through her first. And judging from the shouts and threats that drifted through the gloom, they had already been trying to break him.

She pressed herself against a rusted support beam and removed her night vision goggles, letting her eyes adjust to the dim interior lantern light. Three men, she counted now, patrolling the open expanse of the warehouse, rifles slung casually but within easy reach. Too casual, she thought grimly. That confidence would be their undoing.

Her gaze slid to Bones. With a quick hand signal, she killed the lantern light by yanking a cable free, plunging the warehouse into almost total darkness. That was their cue. “Take him,” she hissed under her breath.

Bones streaked away, silent as a phantom. The tall guard had just enough time to register movement in the corner of his eye before the dog’s jaws clamped down on his forearm. His rifle dropped with a clatter, and his scream of panic died as sixty pounds of sheer power of attack drove him to the ground.

The other three whirled, momentarily blinded by the sudden darkness. Walker was already moving, a lethal blur. She covered the distance to the first man in a heartbeat, elbow slamming into his gut. He stumbled into a barrel with a crash, and she ended him with a single thrust of her knife. A shot cracked from across the warehouse, spitting sparks where it struck a metal beam. Walker rolled beneath the muzzle flash, coming up on one knee. She feinted left, drew the attacker’s attention, then lunged right, slicing the second man across the ribs, then a plunge to his heart. He crumpled with a strangled gasp.

Heart hammering, Walker whirled to see the last gunman fumbling in the dark, terror etched on his face. Before he could run, she dashed behind him and ended it in one precise thrust. Within seconds, all that remained was the ragged sound of the first guard still pinned under Bones. Walker put him out of his misery, then forced herself to breathe in the heat of battle, to remember why she was here.

Bones was already bounding toward a shape on the floor, whining softly. Walker snatched a discarded sidearm, stepping carefully over the sprawled bodies. Her pulse thundered as she neared the faint outline of a man huddled in the gloom.

Skull layon the cold concrete, vision darkening at the edges. Each breath burned, reminding him of bruised ribs. His captors’ questions had been relentless, their fists brutal. But he would never give them anything. The metallic taste of blood lingered on his tongue. His one solace was the hope that Walker and the others had gotten away safely.

When the overhead lamp had suddenly sputtered out, and the warehouse fell into blackness, he’d hoped. That silence had been deafening, then a low, savage growl that made Skull’s heart stutter. Bones. It had to have been his lethal boy. If Bones was here, then…

Then that scream had ripped through the darkness. Skull’s breath catching. There had been the unmistakable sound of a dog’s powerful jaws finding a target, followed by frenzied shouts. Another series of crunches and thuds had echoed across the cavernous space. Men were dying. A glint of hope had kindled inside him, but that hope mingled with fear. What was happening? Then, there had been another scream, then the pop of a muffled gunshot, and silence fell again.

Skull blinked, trying to focus. A flashlight beam cut through the dust, illuminating a swirl of debris in the air. Slowly, a silhouette materialized. Dark clothing, knife in one hand, sidearm in the other. He recognized the shape, lithe, lethal, unstoppable. Walker. Relief crashed over him like a wave. He tried to speak, but the words got lost in the ache of his battered body.

A warm muzzle pressed against his shoulder, and Skull let out a ragged laugh that turned into a cough. “Bones…” He managed to lift a shaking hand to the dog’s neck, ignoring the pain slicing through his ribs.

Walker crouched beside him, her face etched with worry and anger. Blood spattered her gear, and she was breathing hard. She seemed half storm, half angel, and entirely the best damn sight he’d ever seen.

Her hand found his cheek, fingertips gentle against bruised skin. “I’m here,” she whispered, voice trembling with leftover adrenaline. “I’ve got you.”

Skull swallowed thickly, a wet rattle in his lungs. “You…you came back.” He breathed out, almost in disbelief.

“Of course I did,” she said fiercely. Her eyes shone with a mix of fury and relief. “You think I’d leave you to these bastards?”

Before Skull could form a response, she leaned in, hand sliding behind his neck. Her lips pressed against his in a kiss that was as raw and desperate as the world around them. In that moment, the pain in his ribs vanished behind the surge of warmth and gratitude—and something deeper that he dared not name yet.

Sudden shouts and flickers of light signaled the arrival of the rest of the team—SEALs and fellow operatives swiftly securing the warehouse. Bones pulled back from Skull’s side, ears perked, hackles still raised but relaxed when he recognized friendly faces.

“Clear!” someone yelled. Boots thudded across the floor. Another voice rang out, “Over here!”

Walker withdrew from the kiss, her breath unsteady as Skull watched her reorient to the reality of the situation. GQ and Boomer arrived first, sweeping flashlights across the carnage. Four bodies lay strewn about, plus two more outside. Six kills, courtesy of one lethal woman and her dog.

GQ let out a low whistle. “Damn,” he said, faint admiration in his tone. “You left nothing for us.”

Walker simply shrugged. “You snooze, buddy. You lose.”

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