Page 91 of Leading Conviction
Eagle blinked away the truth and moved through the building. The tile underneath them hadn’t been swept since the dust storm that morning, and the light layer of dirt made it so their steps were even quieter than normal.
“I thought this place was full of people,” Hawk pointed out.
“That’s what our intel said,” Eagle assured him.
“That’s what Draco and I saw yesterday, too. Maybe they hunkered down inside the interior rooms to avoid the dust.”
“Then why are there no footprints?” Hawk asked.
Eagle frowned at the observation.
Why aren’t there any footprints?
As Eagle came upon a turn, he lifted his hand to tell his teammates to quiet behind him. His heartbeat drummed in his chest right before he pivoted to face the perpendicular hallway to see—
Nothing. That’s all there was, with every turn going forward, too. A whole bunch of nothing.
Seriously, General. This is not the way to keep your cover.
“Maybe they don’t use this route,” Jaybird offered as Eagle crept through the corridor. “This is an outer hall, easier to penetrate from the outside. The room we’re heading toward is in the back. There will probably be more rooms as we go farther in. And we know women are rarely allowed to freely roam these places.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Hawk answered.
Why aren’t there footprints, though?Eagle asked himself again, not wanting to bring more attention to it than there already was.Where is everyone?
When the General had told him they were going to be capturing a proxy instead, he hadn’t mentioned the target would clear the place out of other suspects first. It would make it harder to convince his team they got the right guy if all the other ones had disappeared. There was no way the ringleader would be sitting pretty waiting for his own pair of handcuffs without his guards around to make the team work for it. Surely, the General wouldn’t be so sloppy with his ruse.
And yet nothing stirred in the house.
Unease slithered in Eagle’s veins, pumping with the guilt already strangling his chest. They silently made their way through the halls to the back room, where their intel had told them their target slept. And they didn’t pass a single soul.
Something’s not right.
“Something’s not right,” Hawk echoed his internal thought.
“Yeah, stay frosty,” Eagle confirmed, telling his teammates to keep a steady head despite the circumstances. His own footsteps felt heavier the closer they got, as if his very bones were begging him to turn back.
“Here… let me…”—static rumbled over the headset as Snake spoke—“drone’s… thermal optics.”
“Snake, man, your mic’s fucking up,” Hawk pointed out behind Eagle.
“Yours is, too,” Jaybird whispered. “It’s all fuzzy over the headphones.”
Shit, Eagle thought, not knowing what the hell that could mean but knowing it was something fucked.
When they’d finally arrived outside of the faux target’s bedroom, having not encountered a single obstacle, Eagle’s nerves were at an all-time high. He and Jaybird stood on either side of the wooden door and Hawk got into position to kick the damn thing down.
“Heat signature… people… target’s bedroom—” Snake’s speech broke as he informed them. “—no one… in building.”
Alarm bells rang in Eagle’s head and his pulse hammered in his ears as Hawk and Jaybird got into ready position.
“Three… two… one…” Hawk counted off in quiet grunts, but those Mayday signals sounding off in Eagle’s head became unbearable.
What if this is a trap? What if I’m leading my teammates to die—
“Wait—”
“Breach!” Hawk yelled right before he kicked beside the handle of the door, showering splinters and debris into the room as it slammed open.
