Page 43 of Fear

“He owns three clubs in the city. One shut down last year, two still running under different LLCs. He’s got a warehouse on the docks, a few properties registered under shell names outside of town, and… wait—” Dixon’s brow furrowed. “There’s a remote estate listed under a holding company. Ten miles south of here.”

“That’s him.” Goliath’s voice was like steel, low and barely contained. “That’s where she is.”

King looked up sharply. “You sure?” Goliath didn’t stop pacing. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, his boots hammering a groove into the floorboards.

“I don’t need to be sure. I feel her.” He paused for half a second, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “She’s there. I know it.” The room pulsed with tension, everyone feeding off his desperation.

Goliath’s eyes were locked on the door like he could rip it off its hinges and sprint toward her on foot. “I can’t sit here. Not one more fucking second.”

Fang stepped in front of him. “We’re moving fast, brother. But if you go in blind, you’re going to get yourself killed.”

Goliath’s growl was low, vibrating in his chest. “If she’s in that place, I’m not waiting on a goddamn plan. I’m walking through the front door and burning it to the fucking ground.”

Dixon lifted his eyes from the screen. “Security’s heavy. Thermal cams. Motion sensors. He’s got this place like a fortress.”

“Then we tear down the fucking walls,” Goliath snarled.

King stepped forward now, calm and firm. “We will. But we do it right. No mistakes. No second chances.”

Goliath nodded, barely, his breathing shallow, every nerve in his body stretched to the edge.

He needed to move. To kill. To get to her. Because the longer she was gone, the more his soul felt like it was being carved out of his chest.

And he knew—deep in his bones—if they didn’t find her soon, he’d lose what little of himself he had left.

King straightened, gaze sweeping across the room. “Chapel. Now.”

The men fell into motion instantly. Chairs scraped back; boots pounded across the floor. Within seconds, the Wolverines and their closest allies were gathered, the table in front of them littered with maps, satellite photos, and tactical gear.

Dixon laid out the overhead image of Rodes’ compound, marking out the perimeter with red grease pencil. “Perimeter’s reinforced with two security gates. Cameras cover the front and back. There’s a side service road—only lightly monitored. It’s the weak point.”

Hunter leaned in, his gravel-rough voice quiet. “We hit it from three angles. Diversion at the main gates. Two strike teams go in fast and hard from the side and rear.”

Fang nodded. “We keep them boxed in. No one gets out. We storm the fucking place, we extract the girl, and we leave nothing standing.”

Blue, arms folded, smirked without humour. “No survivors, right?”

King met his stare. “Only one. Rodes. If we can get to him before Goliath does.” Goliath said nothing.

He stood behind the table, arms braced against the edge, staring down at the layout like he could will her location to appear.

Frost tapped a potential breach point on the rear side. “We take this wall here. I’ve scouted compounds like this. The motion sensors are old. If we move in tight formation, we can slip under them.”

“And the guards?” Fang asked, loading rounds into a spare magazine.

“Leave them to me,” Frost said, voice flat, dangerous.

Hunter leaned forward, finger stabbing a point near the main house. “We’ll need eyes inside. Someone’s got to spot her quick once we breach. We split frequencies—one channel for the strike team, one for Goliath and the extraction unit.”

King looked around the table. Every man’s face was hard. Focused. Deadly.

“We move at first light,” he said. “Armoured vests, suppressed weapons, fast and silent. We get in, get her out, and if anyone stands in our way—”

“We bury them,” Goliath growled, voice like gravel and flame.

No one argued. No one blinked. Because everyone at that table knew that this wasn’t about strategy anymore. It was aboutretribution, and for Goliath, it was personal. Deadly personal. “We ride. Now.” Goliath whirled, shoving past Dash.

“I’m leaving now.” His voice was a snarl, a growl, a fucking command. Because they weren’t wasting another second. Sofia was waiting. And he was coming. The men realized there was no stopping him now, the clubhouse erupted into chaos.

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