Page 49 of Vendetta
The biker’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.
Dylan didn’t move, even with all the adrenaline running through her.“And he’ll be talking to Eli very soon.”
A low voice cut through the tension behind her.“The guy I just dropped in the kitchen won’t,” Ryder said, stepping into view, calm and deadly.
The biker Dylan had a gun on, whipped around to look at Ryder.“You fucking killed him?”
Ryder gave a humorless grin as he closed the distance.“Nah.Not yet.”He leaned in, his shadow falling long across the man’s face.“But don’t worry, he won’t be the only Cottonmouth taking a dirt nap by the end of the night.”
The man tried and failed to keep the emotion off his face.It looked like the truth was finally seeping in.
Ryder nodded toward the door.“Let’s get them both out of here.This one’s leaking on the damn rug.”
Chapter Ten
Vendetta
The moon was a dull blade scraping the edge of the sky.Vendetta crouched low behind the rusted frame of a logging trailer, his breath misting in the cooling air, his ears tuned to every creak and rustle in the woods.The entrance to the drainage tunnel loomed just ahead, half-choked with overgrowth and moss, like the earth itself was trying to swallow it.
It reminded him of Fallujah, dusk patrols with his unit moving low and tight through alleys choked with dust and tension.It was different soil, but he felt the same charged silence before the coming storm.
Behind him, Shade tapped twice on the butt of his rifle.Ready.Ripper and Axel ghosted into position at his flanks.Outcast scanned their rear, calm as ever, while Snow adjusted the strap on his gear bag and gave a nod.Snow, the Hounds’ VP, was a late arrival.The man had a deadly look in his eyes.As Vendetta watched, he pulled a balaclava from his pocket, covering his solid white hair so he wouldn’t give away their position.They were in it now.
A half mile to the front, Razor, Crash, Beast, and Player were already raising hell.Bike engines roared, the sound of gunfire ripped open the quiet evening.Smoke bombs bloomed like thunderheads at the front edge of the compound.The commotion would keep most of the Cottonmouths’ attention on the diversion team.That was the plan.
But the plan didn’t account for the eerie lack of response.
Vendetta’s gut twisted.There were no return shots, and he didn’t see a flood of Cottonmouths charging out to defend their gate.Just a couple of scouts moved along the rooftops, their silhouettes pacing and twitchy.There weren’t enough of them up there.Not by a long shot.
“It’s too quiet,” Ripper muttered, echoing his thoughts.
Vendetta’s gaze studied the compound walls beyond the tunnel’s edge.“Maybe word got out…”
“Or maybe it’s a trap,” Snow said flatly.
Snow could be right.But Vendetta had lived too long, fought through too much, to assume hesitation meant surrender.Were there cracks forming in what used to be loyalty?Or was this a setup?
“Shade, you and Hero take your half right when we breach,” Vendetta said quietly.“Find the control room.Knock out their comms if you can.I want Eli deaf and blind.”
Shade nodded.“Copy that.”
Vendetta looked at the others.“We go left.We hit the barracks first, clear it.Then we move on Eli.”
His pulse pounded like war drums in his ears as he moved toward the tunnel entrance.The air was cooler inside, thick with damp stone and rot.They moved in single file, with their rifles raised and their boots silent against the concrete.
Every footstep forward brought him closer to the reckoning he’d craved for months.And it wasn’t just about revenge anymore.It was about carving out the infection Eli had allowed to spread when he allowed Sinister Skin and their corruption into Oak Grove.
Vendetta felt ghosts walking with them.Tank, every girl who never escaped, and every brother twisted by fear or guilt.
He swore he wasn’t going to relent until it all fucking burned down.
The metal grate gave way with a low groan, the sound dampened by the tunnel walls.Vendetta led the way, his boots sinking into wet leaves and sludge, his rifle tight against his shoulder.Behind him, Outcast and Snow followed like shadows.Ripper and Axel closed the line.The stink in the drainage tunnel was sharp.The smell of combined old water, rust, and mildew rose, and it was still way too quiet on the Cottonmouths’ side of things.Vendetta’s breath slowed as he counted the seconds between steps, his instincts sharpening.It reminded him of crawling through irrigation ditches outside the wire, waiting for a trigger man to make his move.This was a different mission on the other side of the world, but he felt that same edge-of-your-soul anticipation.
When they emerged behind the equipment shed, moonlight cut hard across the gravel.It was quiet now out front.But he knew they would have heard a counter offensive if one had been launched.Was Razor and his group, whose job was to keep Eli’s eye onthem, just waiting them out now?
The compound spread out in front of them in long rows of metal buildings with floodlights washing over bare ground and fences.Now, there were just two spotters on the roof.
“Ripper,” Vendetta whispered, pointing upward.“Roof left.Quiet.”
