Page 41 of Harris

Woodley stepped forward as Harris pulled out his Glock. Not knowing what was behind the door, he felt it better to be prepared than dead, heat signatures or not. Woodley turned the knob and flung it open, giving Harris an unobstructed shot at anything that might jump out.

Turns out there was nothing other than stairs heading into a darkened room below. He didn’t bother turning on a light; it might attract attention, so he flipped his night vision goggles down from the rim of his specially designed baseball hat. Woodley did the same.

He moved forward with Woodley at his back, taking one step at a time, gun at the ready. When they reached the bottom and scanned the first room, it became apparent they were standing in a lab of some sort. Shit.

“I don’t like the looks of this,” Woodley said. “It gives me the creeps.”

“Neither do I,” Harris agreed.

“Whatcha got,” Stryker asked over the comms from the second story.

“A hidden basement with computers, machines, test tubes, and other shit. At least here in the first room. There’s another door on the far wall,” Harris said.

“We’re on our way,” Stryker stated.

Woodley took the lead as they made their way toward the shut door. When he tried to turn the knob, it wouldn’t budge.

“Locked.”

Woodley took out his lock-picking tools and went to work. Harris could hear footsteps coming down the stairs and turned to confirm it was the rest of their team. As he did, the locked door clicked and opened.

“Oh shit,” Woodley said, and Harris quickly turned around to take a look inside as the stench intensified.

On a table near the back of the room lay what appeared to be a body covered by a dark sheet. This recon was going south fast.

***

Woodley

“I think we might have found Robin,” Woodley whispered without stepping into the room.

The air around them was electrified as Apollo and Griffin stepped past Harris and himself. It didn’t feel right entering the room until the other two had a chance to identify who was under the sheet.

The entire team would be watching their monitors and knew everyone was hoping this wasn’t Apollo’s missing team member.Though the odds were not in their favor. Knots were forming in Woodley’s stomach, and he noticed Harris moving closer to his side. This was the worst-case scenario, a result they worked tirelessly to avoid.

Apollo reached for the edge of the sheet, Griffin at his side. No one spoke. What the hell was there to say? The room wasn’t large, so Woodley could see the man lying underneath when he removed the sheet. From the picture he’d been shown, it was indeed Robin; by the looks of things, he’d been dead for quite some time.

His lips had been sewn shut, likely to stop him from speaking and using his power of suggestion. Bastards. There was nothing else in the room except a folding chair.

Woodley stepped back into the lab portion of the basement, wanting to give Apollo and Griffin some time alone. Harris and Stryker followed him, and the three began searching the drawers and cupboards for anything they could use. As they came across paperwork, pictures were taken to be reviewed later. They didn’t want to be here too long.

After a few minutes, Apollo and Griffin returned from the room, relocking the door as they did so as not to give their visit away. Apollo’s eyes flashed with electric blue streaks, and Griffin’s hands were glowing like they had back in the junkyard when he thought they were being attacked. Woodley noticed the tips of sharp canine teeth peeking out from under Griffin’s top lip for the first time. Now wasn’t the time to ask questions.

“Are we done here?” Apollo asked.

“Yes. We’ve covered every inch of the lab,” Harris said.

“I’m sorry about your friend,” Woodley said. “This isn’t the way we’d hoped this to end.”

“Neither did we,” Griffin said. “Thank you. However, this isn’t the end. It’s the beginning of bringing the nightmare this grouphas created back to their doorsteps. None of those bastards will be walking away from this.”

“Understood,” Harris said. “You have us by your side.”

Apollo nodded before heading back to the stairs. They replaced the hutch and relocked the kitchen door. Within minutes, the five left Soloman’s house and returned to their SUV. Gunner met them at their vehicle; the look of anger on his face mirrored their own. Soloman and his cohorts were going to pay. They had no idea the hell they’d brought down upon themselves. They'd know soon enough.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Harris

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