Page 85 of Fighting Conviction
“One, left corner!”
Hawk’s yell was Phoenix’s command. Phoenix followed the directive and held his gun steady at the only other man in Devil’s vision. The bathroom door was ajar, revealing another unclear sector Devil needed to check before he continued to clear the remainder of the corner-fed room.
Phoenix went to corner target two while Devil pushed open the bathroom door. The door hit something on the other side and Devil peered in to find women piled on the floor, discarded like rags.
Turning off his medic side, he detected no immediate threat and backed away before taking measured steps to the remaining uncleared sector. Pushing past Hawk and pinning his foot for a low, wide, balanced pivot to face the threat. Devil turned the corner and raised his gun at a familiar shirtless man. The man raised his arms in surrender. A woman on the bed scrambled to the headboard while holding her face on the bed.
“On your knees! On your knees!” Devil yelled and the man backed into the nightstand before collapsing to his knees. “Hands up! Hands where I can see them, asshole!”
The nearly naked woman’s eyes had the glazed look of someone high on drugs. Her body struggled to follow Devil’s orders while strangled screams and weak cries escaped her.
Devil scanned the rest of the corner-fed room and found no other threats. He kept his Glock on the man and took in the lack of movement at his back, indicating Hawk and Phoenix had their targets secured.
“Thank God you’re here.” Devil pivoted to the blubbering man kneeling on the floor. “I-I’ve been kidnapped! I-I’m Mitchell—”
“Shut the fuck up, Strickland. I know who you are. Stay on your knees, hands behind your head.”
Strickland began to make moves as if he was going to stand. “B-but I told you, I’ve been kidnapped—”
Devil kicked him in the chest so his ass landed harshly back onto his calves. Outrage was written all over his face.
“What the—”
“I said, ‘hands behind your head.’ You don’t wanna test me. Only the idea of you rotting in a jail cell forever is keeping me from shooting you in the head right now.”
Mitchell narrowed his eyes and watched Devil before lifting his hands behind his head, seeming to take in the reality of his situation in the same moment. His face twisted in resignation as he slumped against the nightstand.
So weak. He hadn’t even fought back. “What a little bitch,” Devil muttered.
Devil heard movement behind him. He maintained the wall at his back and the rest of him was poised for an attack, while aiming at Strickland’s head.
Phoenix dragged his unconscious target by the scruff of his neck to the opposite side of the bed. Devil had missed when Phoenix knocked his man out, but it made sense to secure the safety of the room. Hawk emerged from the room’s short hallway, leading his target at gunpoint to the diagonal corner of the room before commanding him to get in the same position as Strickland.
“Snake, targets have been subdued,” Hawk informed the rest of the team. “We’re gonna need to make that call.”
“Copy.” After another moment, Snake spoke again. “Got ‘em en route.”
“Good,” Devil responded. If the feds were on their way, they only had a few minutes more of complete control of this situation.
He glanced at the dark-haired woman on the bed, trying to sit up. Her movements were slow and erratic as she tried to stretch the T-shirt over her bare legs. Her left cheekbone was busted and spilling a steady stream of blood.
“Who gave you that?” Devil asked and watched as the girl’s eyes flitted around the room, probably unsure of who the bad guy was in the situation.
Hawk’s voice was low and menacing as he spoke to his target. “Who touched her?”
Devil’s eyes cut to Strickland’s look of panic on his face.
“I did not.” The heavy Russian accent came from Hawk’s corner.
“Can’t ask my guy.” Phoenix shrugged, indicating his still passed out conquest with the muzzle of his gun.
“Guess that leaves you.” Devil donned his mask of detachment and addressed Strickland. “Show me your hand.”
“I-I am, they’re behind my head—”
“Right hand. Palm down, then back to your head.”
Strickland glanced at the man on the other end of Hawk’s gun.
