Page 133 of Broken Wheels

“How many people have you seen so far? Has it been quiet?”

“I wouldn’t say quiet. Not the force we were expecting, certainly. We’re talking a few dozen people, trained too. We got stuck in a bottleneck and there was quite the firefight. Martinez got hit in the shoulder, and Dempsey got the wind knocked out of him, but no fatalities in our group.”

Dixon was going to fucking kill Chalmers. “Find Chalmers, now. Something is wrong.”

“We’d like to, sir, but right now we’ve got our hands full.”

Which meant it was time to deploy the CrossBow people. “That’s fine. You do what you have to. We’ll handle Chalmers. And be careful.”

“Will do. Good luck finding Agent Chalmers.” Then he shouted something, and the call disconnected.

Dix faced his team.

“Chalmers appears to have split off from his people, and it’s likely he’s in over his head. He’s off on his own and hasn’t told his people where he was.” Dix squared his shoulders. “So we’re going after him. We’ll split into teams. Jazz, you’re with me. And remember what I said. Watch each other’s backs. This isn’t our usual caper, so expect the unexpected.” He paused. “One more reminder. This isn’t an assignment. None of you are required to?—”

“Can you shut the fuck up so we can get moving?” Jazz griped. “We all know what we’re here for, so let’s get to it.”

Dix blew out a breath. “Thanks, Jazz.”

“No problem, Dix.” She smiled. “We love you, and I gotta say, we really love the effect Josh has on you.” Her eyes sparkled. “You’re less… ick.”

Dix arched an eyebrow. “Ick?”

She chuckled. “Well, that’s the technical term.” Her gaze grew flinty. “Now let’s move.”

So much for rescuing Carson. It seemed they might have to rescue Chalmers too.

When I find you, Chalmers, I’m gonna kick your motherfucking ass right up around your neck.

No issues, he’d said. Lying fuck. Dix had lost count of the number of bodies he’d seen, not to mention the blood splatters throughout the area.

He wondered how much of it was Chalmers’s.

The building was a maze of hallways littered with the dead, and Dix’s team moved quietly, picking their way through, weapons at the ready. Each team went down different hallways before disappearing from sight. That left him and Jazz. When they reached yet another corridor in the maze, Dix inclined his head toward a hallway, and Jazz nodded before taking off in that direction. Dix went straight ahead. They hadn’t encountered any resistance thus far, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Every few minutes, the radio clicked with his team calling in to report what was happening. Everyone was in the clear. Dix hated to admit it, but the government guys knew their jobs and they did it with precision and brutality. They never fired first, and they were always the last ones standing. Open doors revealed empty rooms.

Noise filtered down one corridor, and Dix clicked his mic to let Jasmine know he’d heard something.

“Wait for me.”

“You’re too slow,” Dix teased. “I’m in the hallway that was straight from where we started.”

“Be there in a few minutes,” she said, her voice tense.

Dix had to keep in mind a few of these people hadn’t been military before they started at CrossBow. Not that it mattered. He had been, and he was still keyed up. When the sound became clearer, Dix recognized a moan.

Waiting for Jazz was no longer an option. She’d have to catch up.

He rushed down the hall and burst into one of the rooms. Chalmers was bent over, trying to extricate a man who was handcuffed to a chair. Both men were bleeding, but the bound man was in a far worse state, crimson liquid streaming from his mouth and eyes. Dix recognized Carson from his photo in the dossier.

“Remind me to beat your ass later,” Dix grunted as he pushed Chalmers aside. “How bad is it? And don’t fucking lie to me or try to be a hero.” Chalmers had been hit in the shoulder and leg. Clearly someone was a rotten shot.

“Nice to see you too,” Chalmers said, his voice weak. “I got here just as that guy was about to shoot him in the head.” He pointed across the room to where a body lay, half of his face missing. “Not sure how much good it did, though.”

“Kept him alive, though, didn’t it?” Dix ground out.

“Dixon!” Jazz shouted from the doorway.

“Call the feds,” Dix told her. “Tell them we need conveyance for two injured and?—”

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