Page 129 of Rival Hero

We positioned him to stealthily guard the perimeter to let us know if anyone heads this way.

“All clear on the east side. Moving to the west side of the property.”

“Copy.”

Jonesy breaks in via the other comm channel. “We’re in the neighborhood if you want to patch us in with the other team.”

“Copy.” I sync up the channels. “Both teams should be on the comms now. Alpha lead, confirm.”

“Copy,” Jonesy answers.

“Bravo lead, confirm.”

“Copy,” Shep replies in a whisper, getting closer to the kitchen window around the back.

“Be advised, alpha team is in the neighborhood. ETA two minutes.”

“Shep, is the kitchen clear?” I ask him, not wanting to believe what I see through his cam feed.

“Negative. Three more tangos. And two more females. One female on her knees in the corner. The other is lying on the table with a tango on top of her.” His voice is low with a grumble of disgust filling every word.

“That’s it. I’m going in,” Tomer cuts in, leaving no room for arguing.

Oh, ring-a-ding-dick.

I wish Shep hadn’t broadcast what he saw. When I saw it on his cam, I knew it would propel Tomer over the edge.

“Mask up, alpha team,” Jonesy instructs them as they get closer.

Bravo team is already wearing their full gear since they’re doing ninja-style recon.

Although they didn’t hide their identities earlier, it’s safer to do so during the extraction since the plan is to leave the traffickers manning the house alive. The fewer people aware of our involvement, the better. We don’t want a body count that’ll leave the mafia targeting us. This is a rescue only. We’re not trying to start a war.

At least, not until Big Al is on board and we’ve got the authorities ready.

“Listen for alarms, guys,” Tomer orders. “I disabled the lock. Once I open the window, I’ll peek inside to get a visual of the room. Popping open the window in three, two, one.”

I hold my breath. It’s too late to stop him. He’s determined and as pigheaded as anyone I’ve ever known. And I’ve known a mega fuck ton of pig heads.

Couldn’t flick a booger at the CIA without hitting at least five of them.

“Silent here,” Shep answers.

“Nothing on my end either,” I add. “Aaron, you still good?”

“Copy. All clear.”

“Scanning interior before entry,” Tomer informs us in a voice so low it’s hard to discern his words.

“Fuck. Tomer, be silent as a mouse,” I whisper for some strange reason. “Shep, watch the kitchen tangos for movement toward the bedroom when Tomer enters through the window.”

“Wilco.”

“Aaron, double-time it to the northwest window to watch Tomer’s six.”

“Roger.”

I wish I could fucking see what Tomer sees.

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