Page 72 of Feral Alphas

We race for cover, throwing ourselves behind doors and cleaning carts. Adrenaline spikes through my system as I peer out from a door recess. The army guys are pinned down at an intersection, and if I had to guess, a group of criminals are trying to break through this exit point.

“Check the rooms,” I hiss to my team, and we sweep each side room, accompanied by gunshots and the occasional scream further down the hallway.

“Over here, Liam!” Russell calls. He covers me while I duck into what looks like a nurse’s office; medical supplies mingle with piles of paperwork and a coffee cup steams on one of the desks. But the most important part is a door leading away from the corridor we started in.

I nod grimly. As I’m about to throw it open, I catch sight of movement behind a filing cabinet. “OCB! Get on the floor!” I shout.

The woman comes out flinging some kind of industrial sized stapler and I shove Russell sideways before taking her down in a rough tackle. She screams through tears, knowing her fate is sealed.

“Where were those tears when you abused the omegas?” I hiss at her as I haul her arms behind her back and cuff her.

“I needed the money!” she cries, face pressed sideways on the floor.

“Then you should have sold your own fucking body, not theirs!” Enraged quivers run through my arms as I hold her head down against the hard concrete.

An OCB pair step forward, holstering their guns. “We’ll take her, sir.”

I nod and get off her. “Use that meeting room back down the hall, where you have a bit of cover. Set up a cuff line on the railing.”

I turn back to watch Russell peering through a crack in the door. “We can come up behind them, Liam.”

I drag my radio out. “Major Hanley, this is Agent Liam. We’re approaching from the target’s rear. Do not shoot friendlies.”

The radio hums. “Roger that.”

“Ready,” I tell Russell.

He nods grimly and pushes the door open. A dozen steps bring us to the corridor facing the intersection where five men are taking shots at any camouflage helmet that appears beyond them. Unlike trained agents and soldiers, they’ve forgotten to cover their backs.

I give Russell a silent countdown with my fingers, and then we charge forward. The kickback from my handgun travels up my arm with burning clarity as we shoot them from behind, aiming for non-vitals. The criminals tumble into each other as they fall. A bullet cracks into the wall a few feet from my head, but then the army guys rush forward and get the last hold outs on the ground. Unlike us, the staff here are shooting to kill.

One of the criminals takes off down the opposite corridor with a speed that catches me by surprise. I train my sidearm up and shoot, but it pings against a support pillar. Russell gets a shot off that grazes the man’s leg making him stumble but he recovers and runs into a side room.

We sprint down the hall, jumping over the arrested workers. A scream echoes between the concrete walls and my breath catches. Sliding cautiously into the room, we find the panting man hanging onto a whimpering omega, a gun trained at her head.

“Come any closer and I’ll shoot her brains out!” he shouts, pressing the barrel into her temple.

The tiny omega with burn scars up one side of her neck cries out and covers her face with both hands. My heart twists as she flinches away from the metal.

A moment of chilly indecision sweeps through me as Russell and I stand in the doorway, weapons trained on the man holding the shivering captive. She doesn’t deserve any of this, just because she was born an omega. This could have been Rose a month ago. Thinking about Rose brings Colt to mind. What would he do?

“Liam?” Russell asks quietly.

“Steady now,” I say, trying to calm myself as much as the girl.

“Put ‘em down!” the guy shouts, his brown eyes flicking wildly as he assesses his options.

“We’ll put them down,” I say. He’ll shoot one of us the moment we lower our weapons. Although he’s holding the omega tight against his chest, she’s a good deal shorter than he is. I look directly at her and squeeze my eyes shut. She shudders but catches my silent request. The moment she closes her eyes, I pull the trigger.

I’m a crack shot. Had to train non-stop to keep up with Colt’s marksmanship records ever since he joined the Bureau. The man drops and the omega screams. Russell jumps forward and tugs her into his arms with a soothing noise. “You’re okay, miss. You’re safe now.”

I let out a heavy breath as I lower the gun. A quick death is more than the bastard deserved. No one in the Bureau likes killing, but I don’t feel remorse for a man who traded omegas like playing cards. Still, there’s a faint ache in my throat as I hand Russell a towel hanging behind the door so he can mop some of the blood out of her hair.

I hope I haven’t scarred her more.

Colt probably would have found a way to get her free without shooting the man holding her. Today we’ve busted one of the biggest illegal omega centers of the decade, thanks to the testimony of the woman Colt rescued. He should have been here, with his name going down on the records, and he’s not because my ego got in the damn way. How on Earth am I going to fix this?

Colt Nesters already hated my guts. Now I bet he won’t even see me as a decent colleague.

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