Page 67 of Damian
“Doors opening in three…two…” Cyclone’s voice hit like thunder.
A sharp click echoed across the warehouse. The locks disengaged, the bars swinging free.
“Now!” I roared, laying down fire to clear the path. “Get them out!”
Oliver rushed forward, ushering the girls out with sharp commands. Gage’s cover fire never faltered, dropping men before they could regroup.
The tide turned fast, the last few guards scattering under our push. I advanced on the final one, slamming him against the wall, my forearm pressing into his throat.
“Where’s Luthor?” I snarled.
His eyes bulged, spit flecking his lips. “He’s…already gone. This was…just a handoff—”
I silenced him with a single shot.
The warehouse went still, smoke curling through the rafters, the air reeking of gunpowder and sweat. The girls clung to each other, wide-eyed but alive.
Cyclone clutched his laptop, breathless but triumphant. “We got them. And the data—they’ll tell us where he’s moving next.”
I holstered my rifle, scanning the shadows one last time. My heart still thundered, but not from the fight. From the promise waiting at the safehouse.
I’ll come back to you.
And as Oliver herded the last girl toward the exit, I swore to God I’d keep that vow—no matter how many walls I had to tear down to finish this.
90
Damian
The warehouse stank of cordite and fear.
The girls stumbled out of the cages, blinking under the flicker of failing lights. Some clung to each other, too shaken to move; others bolted the moment the locks clicked, their bare feet slapping against concrete. I moved among them, rifle still hot in my hands, checking corners, scanning shadows. We couldn’t afford a surprise—not now.
Oliver’s voice cut sharp. “We’re clear on the east side. Two trucks ready outside.”
“Move them,” I ordered. “Cyclone, stay on the locks—make sure there’s nothing else hidden.”
The youngest girl—a blonde with dirt smudged across her face—stared up at me, wide-eyed. Couldn’t have been older three. My chest tightened, a weight pressing down like armor. She flinched when I crouched, but I lowered my weapon, softening my voice.
“You’re safe now,” I said. “Stay close to Oliver, that’s him,” I said, pointing, he’ll get you out.”
Her lip trembled, but she nodded and ran after the others.
Gage’s voice came through the comms. “Perimeter’s holding.No sign of reinforcements. Either they cut and ran, or they’re waiting down the line.”
“Let them wait,” I muttered, hauling another girl toward the exit. “We’ve already broken their grip here.”
Cyclone jogged up, laptop hugged to his chest, sweat streaking down his temple. “Damian—these files? It’s bigger than I thought. Routes, bank transfers, coded messages—hell, I even found chatter about payoffs to law enforcement. He’s rotting this city from the inside.”
I shoved open the bay doors, the crash of surf rushing in. The trucks idled in the dockyard, Oliver waving the girls forward. My boots hit the gravel, lungs filling with salt air.
“Then we burn it down,” I said flatly. “Every last piece of it.”
One by one, the girls loaded into the trucks. Some cried silently; others stared blankly, hollow-eyed. Survivors, every one of them. I caught the blonde again as she climbed into the first truck—she looked back at me like she wanted to ask something.Will you really keep us safe?The question burned, unspoken, before the door slammed shut.
Oliver climbed into the driver’s seat, revving the engine. “We rolling?”
“Roll,” I confirmed.
