Page 91 of Single Mom's Navy Seals
Finally, the cars ahead slow down, turning onto a narrow private road that winds through dense trees. I cut the engine, pulling our vehicle off the road and obscuring it behind thick brush. The three of us step out of the car, popping open the trunk, which reveals a hidden compartment beneath the spare tire. Swiftly, we remove several military-grade weapons, handling them with familiarity.
We slip into the thick trees, moving silently through dense underbrush. The private road ahead leads toward a large, secluded warehouse, lights illuminating the darkened property. My heart tightens, protective fury surging within me.
I glance toward Jax and Cole, eyes cold and focused, voice calm and commanding. “Every person inside that building, other than Ava and Eli, is hostile. Eliminate them if necessary. We get in, retrieve Ava and Eli, and get them out safely. No hesitation and nothing stands in our way. Clear?”
“Crystal.”
Jax flashes a sharp show of teeth, too hostile to be a smile, and vows, “They won’t know what hit them.”
Together, we move through the shadows, approaching the large warehouse. My pulse remains steady, breath controlled, senses heightened. Training takes over, guiding every step, every decision.
As we reach the edge of the clearing, I assess the situation. Guards patrol around the perimeter.
I signal to Cole and Jax. “Jax, you take the left. Cole, you take the right. I’ll go straight in through the front. We neutralize and meet inside.”
They nod, immediately slipping away, each moving into planned positions.
I move through the shadows, eyes locked onto the guards standing watch outside the warehouse.
The first guard leans lazily against the rough brick wall with a bored look on his face. Somehow, he's completely oblivious to my silent approach. His rifle hangs loosely in his grasp, and his attention is focused on a distant point, unaware that he’s seconds from losing this particular battle.
I pause for a second and scan the surroundings momentarily, mapping out my next movements. I approach from behind, my boots whispering over loose gravel. Every movement is calculated, deliberate. When I'm close enough, my breathing steadies, every muscle tense yet fluid.
In an instant, I lunge forward, catching him off guard. My left arm snakes firmly around his neck from behind. The guard stiffens and his rifle slips from his grasp as he instinctively claws at my forearm, struggling frantically.
“Easy there, pal,” I whisper into his ear, tightening my grip further. “Just sleep.”
He thrashes as the adrenaline surges futilely through his veins. The thrashing only works against him, though. His movements slow soon enough, and his limbs grow heavy until his body sagsagainst mine. Gently, I guide him down to the ground, careful to lay him out and tuck his unconscious form beneath the shadowed wall, out of sight.
“Sleep tight,” I murmur sarcastically, retrieving his rifle and setting it aside.
A sudden crunch of gravel spins me around, my senses flaring. The second guard, alerted by some small sound, steps around the corner, eyes immediately landing on me. His weapon rises rapidly, instinctively aiming toward me.
“Hey!” he shouts, finger tightening visibly on the trigger.
I move, heart pounding in my ears, driven by sheer instinct and practiced reflexes. Dropping into a low crouch, I dodge narrowly to the right as his gun fires, the bullet whizzing past me, embedding into the brick behind with a loud crack.
The guard swings, but he tries adjusting his aim to follow my swift movements. Still, I’m quicker and without warning, I’m pushing forward with practiced agility, and I’m easily closing the distance between us. Before he can squeeze the trigger again, my hand closes firmly over the weapon, wrenching it from his grip and tossing it carelessly aside.
The guard, clearly trained and prepared, doesn’t hesitate, immediately raising his fists, squaring off defensively. His eyes lock onto mine, sizing me up quickly.
“Big mistake,” he snarls, taking a threatening step toward me.
I smile, raising my fists calmly, stance shifting easily into a practiced defensive posture. “We’ll see.”
He lunges forward aggressively, swinging a sharp left hook toward my jaw. I pivot, ducking beneath the strike, feeling therush of displaced air near my face. Responding, I land a precise jab to his abdomen, causing him to grunt harshly, doubling over.
Recovering, he moves in again, aiming a quick series of punches toward me. I deflect them, blocking smoothly with tight, controlled movements. A strong right cross from him narrowly misses, whistling past my cheek.
“That all you got?” I taunt, maintaining an even tone.
His eyes narrow angrily, and he rushes forward again, desperate, launching a rapid succession of blows. His movements become increasingly frantic, losing the careful precision from before. I sidestep, seizing my opening as he overextends himself.
Moving, I land a solid strike directly to his chest, knocking the wind from him. As he stumbles backward, gasping, I pivot smoothly, delivering a decisive blow behind his knees. His legs buckle, sending him dropping harshly onto the ground.
Before he can recover, I move forward, pinning him securely, one arm locking around his throat, the other bracing across his shoulders. He struggles immediately, thrashing beneath my hold.
“Calm down,” I warn, applying careful, steady pressure. “Or you’re going out the hard way.”
