Page 42 of Danger Close
Ricky stood by the equipment shed with a frayed clipboard in hand, the perfect picture of underpaid freight crew.The compound buzzed around him in lazy rhythm—guards yawning, supplies being shuffled, someone arguing in a back corner about inventory codes.All surface calm.
But beneath it?
Tension.Ready to snap.
He tilted his head like he was scratching it and murmured into the comms, “Two minutes.Standing by.”
Bateman came back low and steady.“Copy.Teams are moving.”
Sophia was nearby, crouched by a garden bed, fingers pressed into the dirt like she was trying to draw something invisible.She looked too quiet.Too still.
Then came the storm.
Two guards approached—both ones he’d flagged before.One, the twitchy jackass with a wandering eye.The other, a bigger guy with a sneer like it had been surgically attached.They barked something at her in clipped, cruel Albanian.
Sophia tried to get up.
One of them reached for her.
The clipboard cracked across his face with a wet snap that echoed across the courtyard before he had a chance to put a hand on her.
“Hey!”Ricky barked, stepping into their space like he owned it.“You touch her, you answer to me.”
The second guard lunged.Ricky pivoted, using the clipboard like a baton.He jammed the metal clip into the guy’s throat, then spun and drove the entire edge across the bridge of his nose, driving bone shards up and into his brain.
Blood sprayed.The guard went down in a heap, dead before he hit the ground.
But the first one recovered fast, swinging hard.
Ricky ducked under the blow, dropped the clipboard, and finished it the old-fashioned way—a tight combo to the ribs, then a brutal straight punch that shattered the man’s jaw.
The guy hit the dirt and didn’t get back up.
Sophia had bolted—pure instinct.
“Miracle!”Ricky shouted.“Sophia—Miracle!”
She skidded, turned on a dime, eyes wide.
He opened his arms.“Come on, baby girl.I’ve got you.”
She ran.Full speed.Launched herself into his chest like she belonged there.
“Atta girl,” he breathed, arms locking around her.“You’re safe now.”
Gunfire echoed in the distance.The op was live.
Ricky turned and sprinted toward the outdoor corridor he’d scouted two days ago, twisting through the courtyard, and out past the clinic sheds.His boots pounded across the dirt.Sophia clung tight to him, not making a sound.
They rounded a corner—and he stopped cold.
Two more guards.They hadn’t chosen fight or flight yet.They were still mid-panic, like deer trying to math out their chances of survival.
Ricky bent and placed his precious cargo on the ground and met Sophia’s eyes.“Down that way, follow the wall.Now.Uncle Ezra’s waiting.”
Her bottom lip trembled.“What about you?”
“I’m right behind.Go, Soph.Run.”
