Page 63 of Savage King

“Skathi will hang back and hold point at our backs while Trouble, Hound, and I move from quadrant one to four, taking out the perimeter one man at a time. Use knives, make it silent. We don’t want anyone inside knowing we’re coming. They’ll kill the girls.”

They nodded once in accord.

“Hawk and Grimm, keep an eye on the infrared and tell us if any of the assholes inside move toward the door. And make sure the three in the offices stay put. I want Madrigal and Melgar. They’re mine.”

Fang and Trucker were left, Trucker having joined them at the rally point three blocks from the warehouse.

“Fang, you take the exit on the far side. Once we clear the way for you, stand there, ready for anyone thinking they can make a quick getaway. Trucker, you stand at the front, same deal. No one but Raiders walks away from here tonight.”

Armed to the teeth, donning black from head to toe, the Raiders moved in force toward their target.

Hawk and Grimm took up point on the building across the road, ready to feed positions through the ear pieces each of the Raiders carried.

Stealth and skill aided them as they flowed from one guard to the next, giving each one a bloody necklace. Bodies dropped and the Raiders moved forward. At the door, Odin signaled a halt. Through the plate glass window of the door, he could see the interior of the warehouse was dark. Immediately, he knew something was up. You didn’t post four guards inside a dark warehouse unless you were waiting for someone to come and light the place up.

Into his earpiece he whispered, “Lights out, three bogies in wait.”

“Ambush,” Trouble said. “They knew we were comin’.”

“How?” Skathi asked, the AR-15 in her hands one of the sexiest things he’d ever seen on her.

Not the time. Life and death right now, asshole.

“Don’t know. We still need to get those girls out of there. Nothing has changed except our approach.”

“And our chances of getting out without a bullet hole,” Fang snarled quietly, the menace in his voice rippling through his mic.

“Fang, hang back, wait for percussion. We need to weed out the rat,” Skathi ordered the man. In Spanish.

What was she thinking? Did she know who the rat was?

“Si,” Fang replied.

“The rest of us, count of three. Hit it low and quick,” Odin ordered into the mic.

One beep. Two beeps. Three beeps.

They hit the building, kicking the door opening and tossing in a flash/bang. The sound and light filling the room with a cacophony that allowed them to enter under cover. The three men were easily subdued since Odin, Skathi, and Trouble were equipped with goggles and facemasks.

Hurrying to the far wall, Odin stopped in his tracks. Five cages. Naked, brutalized women curled into balls, pressing their bodies against the back of the cage. Their eyes wide, their faces pale. Expressions of terror pinching their faces.

Behind him. Trucker slunk toward the offices along the wall, sticking to the shadows. He turned and signaled to Odin that there were three visible through the window in the middle office.

“Welcome, Raiders, to my house of whores!” a heavily accented voice rang out over a PA system.

“Yo!” Hound called, making them turn toward the last cage.

“What the fuck?” Bonnie was inside, her eyes open, staring into nothing.

Realization dawn and he swung to find his brother, Trucker, his arm out, gun pointed at Skathi’s head.

“No. Tell me you didn’t fucking betray us. Betray me?!” Odin roared.

Trucker smirked, his familiar face morphing into one of a stranger as evil glee shaped his smile.

“I’m just getting my due. You killed Tosser—my blood brother, and I wanted revenge.”

“Fuck that. Tosser killed himself. Booze, coke, and club pussy. The man wasn’t healthy. Add to that all the shit he head to deal with with Bonnie….” Despite being in a precarious situation, Trouble wasn’t pulling any punches.

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