Page 26 of Tank

I raise my fist,signaling the Reapers to dismount their bikes. My eyes scan the perimeter, searching for any hidden threats in the shadows of the abandoned warehouse district.

"All clear," I mutter into the comm. "What do you see, little one?"

Sophie's voice crackles in my ear, wavering slightly but still strong. "I've got eyes on the warehouse. Looks like most of the traffickers are concentrated near the back entrance. The captive women must be inside."

"Copy that." I do a mental headcount of my brothers, ensuring we're ready to breach. Rage simmers in my gut, fueled by the thought of those bastards profiting off innocent lives. We'll make them pay in blood.

I switch channels to address the club. "Iron Reapers, listen up. We go in hard and fast. Our priority is securing the women. Leave no man standing." Grunts of affirmation answer me, my brothers as eager for retribution as I am.

Gripping my Glock, I take a steadying breath. "Sophie, keep feeding us intel. We move on your mark."

"You got it, Tank. Be careful in there. Come back to me."

Her soft plea resonates in my chest. I'll always come back to her. She's the light guiding me through this darkness.

"Promise, little one." I steel my resolve, channeling the fury within into cold precision. "Let's roll out."

As I lead the charge towards the warehouse, adrenaline pumps through my veins. The anticipation of the impending clash crackles in the air. Time to unleash hell on these motherfuckers and bring our girls home.

The crunch of gravel beneath our boots is the only sound as we approach the warehouse, movements synchronized and purposeful. I feel the weight of my brothers' trust, their faith in me to lead them through this shitstorm. Can't let them down. Won't let those women down.

We stack up against the wall, weapons at the ready. I catch Ripper's eye and he nods, a silent understanding passing between us. He's my right-hand man, always has my back.

"Breaching in three, two, one..." I ram my boot against the door, the metal giving way with a resounding clang.

All hell breaks loose.

Shouts of alarm mix with the thundering of gunfire as we storm inside. I drop the first bastard I see, two rounds center mass. Blood splatters the concrete. No mercy tonight.

We fan out, engaging the traffickers in brutal hand-to-hand combat. Fists and knives and raw fucking determination. The clashing of bodies and the sickening crunch of bone fill the air. It's chaos, but there's a method to our madness.

I spot a piece of shit aiming his gun at Hex. Not on my watch. I lunge forward, slamming my elbow into his face. Cartilage shatters beneath the blow. He crumples, choking on his own blood.

"Tank, the women are in the southwest corner. Cages." Sophie's voice cuts through the mayhem, an anchor in the storm.

"Copy." I relay the info to my brothers, my heart pounding with the need to reach them. To free them from this nightmare.

We push forward, a united force, the Iron Reapers against the scum of the earth. They don't stand a fucking chance. Not when we're fueled by righteous fury and the unbreakable bonds of brotherhood.

The screams and gunshots fade into background noise as I zero in on our target. Those women... Chloe. We're coming. Hold on just a little longer.

We'll burn this place to the ground if that's what it takes to bring you home.

"They're moving the girls!" Sophie's panicked cry pierces my eardrum. "Tank, they're trying to get them out through the back!"

Fuck. I signal to Riggs and Hex, and we plow through the remaining resistance. Bones shatter and blood sprays as we carve a path toward the cages.

"Sophie, talk to me," I growl, my heart pounding against my ribs. "What do you see?"

"Three men," she replies, her voice trembling but determined. "They're dragging the girls toward a van. Hurry, Tank. Please."

I pick up the pace, my muscles burning with the effort. We burst through the rear door, the cool night air a shock to my lungs. The sight that greets us ignites a fury so intense it nearly blinds me.

The traffickers are shoving the women into a rusted van, their cries muffled by gags and the roar of the engine. I catch a glimpse of Chloe's terrified eyes, wide and pleading, before she's swallowed by the darkness within.

"No!" The word rips from my throat, raw and desperate.

We charge forward, bullets flying, metal clashing against metal. I focus on the van, my every instinct screaming to reach Chloe. To save her from this living hell.

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