Page 60 of Heston
Heston lost his edge completely. “Shit, shit, shit! What am I doing? I’ve let everyone down. I left my post. I should be there, only—!”
“Will you shut it?” Zack growled. He was as hefty as Mark. Not like Heston cared whose was bigger. He’d failed The TEAM and he’d failed London. This time, she’d be gone for good. Because of him! He’d gotten his second chance and he’d blown it. Knew the odds of Karma granting three chances to an idiot like him were damned near nonexistent. What if—?
“You good, Cass? Eric?” Murphy asked.
“Copy that, Murph. We’re good, yeah,” Cassidy replied steadily.
“Wyatt took both assholes down,” Eric added. “Two wannabe gangster-types in camis and sporting AKs. You oughta see themiddle room of this container, guys. Someone was definitely hung from three overhead pipes. Blood spatter’s everywhere, even on the ceiling. Water’s an inch deep on the floor. Proceeding to yet another damned door in this zoo.”
“Hope it’s the exit,” Wyatt Browning added. “This kill box keeps going. Crap!”
Another flurry of gunfire erupted from what Heston guessed was still inside container three. It was hard keeping up with the action with only one audio and no visual feed. It should’ve been him taking those shots. It should’ve been—
“Two more assholes down,” Wyatt reported breathlessly. “Both armed with AKs. Both dumber than shit. Cassidy and me are good, Murph. We found a dozen or more kids and battered women in cages. Eric’s got his gear out. He’s triaging now.”
“Same in container two,” Harley replied. “No guys with guns, just little girls locked in dog crates. Wire dog crates. Place reeks of piss and decay, and some of these darlin’s are sick.”
Heston’s fingers went through his hair as children’s cries and moans came through his earpiece. He couldn’t help feeling like a heartless pig when he asked, “Any sign of London?”
“No, Hes,” Cassidy replied, “but…”
“But what?” Heston snarled. More chatter from Mark’s and Murph’s teams kept him from digging a bigger hole full of angry words he would regret later. Turned out greenhouses only filled half of containers one and two, none of three. Which was the container Eric, Cassidy, and Wyatt had stepped up and handled after he’d left them hanging.
A sudden battery of shots rang out, silencing all chatter. At last, Mark came back with a breathless, “Keane down. Thanks, Maverick. Totally self-defense. Proud of you, brother.”
“You think?” Maverick snarled. “Shithead had a .44 magnum on you! Everyone else okay?” It was good knowing Maverick Carson had Mark’s back, but damn, he sounded pissed.
Quiet confirmations came from the snipers on overwatch. Eric, Cassidy, and Wyatt replied with affirmatives, followed quickly by Jake, Beckam, the Mahers, then Rory, Walker, and—of all people—Jameson. How did that guy get around?
“We thought something like this might go down,” Zack told Heston. “When in doubt, overcompensate. Obermeyer wanted a fight, now he’s got one.”
“But no London,” Heston reminded everyone with venom. He bit his tongue before he lost his temper.
“Wherever she is, Hes, she’ll need you when you find her, so shut up and stop bitching!” Cassidy yelled. “Wherever they’re taking her, she’s hurt, and if the blood in here is all hers, she’s hurt bad. Take care of your woman when you catch up with her, and put those bastards down while we take care of these jerks. Christ, don’t you trust us?”
“I do, but—”
“You already knew Obermeyer and Keane were involved in human smuggling,” Zack reminded him.
“Yeah, but—” Heston was ashamed to admit he only cared about London. Where the hell was she? In that bag in the rear of Obermeyer’s Suburban? Already in the Potomac? Eric said someone had been hung, that there’d been blood spatter. Was that someone London? How bad had they hurt her? How—how hurt? Tortured? Raped? Christ, he couldn’t handle the ugly thoughts racing through his mind.
“Same here,” Lee Hart announced grimly, from which container Heston had no idea. “No little girls, but around twenty young women. They’re scared of us, they’re skinny, and they’re dehydrated. Eric? Can you give us a hand when you’re done in three?”
“You bet, but I’m going to need help.”
“Stand by, people. Metro PD just called and an army of EMTs are on their way to you,” Mother announced solemnly.
Selfishly, all Heston wanted was for Zack to slam the accelerator to the floor and catch up with those SUVs. Listening to this complex take-down and not participating in it was killing him. His TEAM had all put their lives on the line to rescue London. But they hadn’t found her!
Out of the blue, Zack cuffed the back of his head.
“What the hell, Lennox!”
“Knock it off, Hes. If Obermeyer’s got her, and you know damned well he does, then she’s still alive. Trust me. She’s in the back of the Suburban the old guy’s driving. Want to bet he’s the Irishman?”
“I don’t give a shit who he is. He beat her. I’ll kill them all.”
“And I’ll let you, brother, but we can’t take them out on the George Washington Parkway, can we? Collateral damage is unacceptable. You still got us covered, Mother?”
