Page 39 of K-9 Guardians

King took position behind the one on the left, scanning the interior for movement. Instead, he found an arsenal. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Grabbing for the hatch release, he let the cargo door swing upward on its hydraulics and exposed an entire selection of automatic weapons, grenades and ammunition. He tucked a flash grenade in each pocket, cutting his gaze around the vehicle to keep an eye out for anyone left standing guard. Then grabbed for the nearest rifle. “I’ll just ignore the fact it’s illegal to drive around with all this.”

Leaving the cargo area open, King maneuvered to the front of the SUV along the driver’s side. Fire raged mere feet from the bumper and flashed hot along the exposed skin of his arms, face and neck. The longer the flames burned, the more unstable the building would get. He couldn’t wait for fire and rescue. He had to go now. “It’s just a couple arm hairs. They’ll grow back.”

King took two deep breaths, then held the third. And took the leap.

He hauled himself over the threshold of the entrance, barely missing the reach of flames. Colliding with a wall of human muscle on the other side.

The cartel soldier stumbled forward and slammed into another SUV parked a few feet ahead. King tried to get his strength back into his legs, but the added gear was holding him down. He dropped the assault rifle as the soldier turned on him.

A fist connected with the left side of his face and sent King spiraling toward the cement. Fire licked at the back of his neck. He rolled to avoid the flames and took out the soldier’s legs in the process. The two-hundred-pound attacker landed directly on top of him, shoving the air from his chest.

King grabbed for one of the grenades stashed in his pants pocket, pulled the pin and shoved it between the soldier’s Kevlar and rib cage. He kicked the son of a bitch out of reach and, plugging his ears, he scrambled out of the blast radius as fast as his leg allowed.

A panicked scream was cut short as the device exploded.

Smoke drove into King’s lungs as he forced himself to his feet. He collected the assault rifle and set the butt of the weapon into his shoulder. “Who’s next?”

A gunshot burst from his right, and King turned the rifle on the shooter. His bullets cut through the thick smoke pouring down from the garage ceiling.

Something heavy hit the ground. No more gunshots.

King kept moving, working his way through the maze of parked vehicles. The elevator access into the building had to be close. He pressed forward, putting everything he had into staying on his feet. He rounded the final vehicle.

And faced off with a gun pointed directly at him.

Granger Morais’s hands bobbed with every exaggerated breath. One second. Two. The counterterrorism agent seemed to think better of pulling the trigger and let his arms collapse into his chest. Lying back, Granger stared up at the ceiling. “Where the hell did you come from?”

“Outside.” King noted the dark puddle of liquid pooling beneath the operative’s right side and took another step forward. “You don’t look so good.”

“You think I’ll be ready for my date later tonight?” A half scoff, half laugh seemed to aggravate whatever wound Granger had sustained in his shoulder. Pain contorted his expression and tightened the muscles along his arms. “It’s just a scratch. She won’t notice, right?”

“You might want to reschedule. Or, hey, hospital food isn’t as bad as everyone thinks. It’s not every day you get to visit a cafeteria. She’ll certainly remember it.” King swung the rifle to his back, the strap digging into his shoulder. He offered Granger a hand. “What happened here?”

Granger didn’t hesitate and slid a calloused palm into King’s. A groan escaped the operative’s control as King hauled him to his feet. “They blew through the gate. My guess is with C-4. Never saw them coming.”

Dread pooled at the base of King’s spine as he scoured what he could see of the garage. Wide cracks splintered across the ceiling. The weight of this entire building could drop right on them without warning. They had to get everyone out of here. “Where is Scarlett?”

“I sent her upstairs. We needed her to call the shots.” Granger rolled his shoulder back, pulling a scream from his chest a split second before he doubled over. Not even the most experienced operators could outrun a bullet.

“Have you heard from her since?” They got to the elevator, and King swept the area one last time as Granger set his key card against the reader. Seconds ticked by—slower than he wanted.

“I kind of had other things on my mind.” The counterterrorism agent collapsed against the wall near the key card panel. “Not dying, for one.”

Movement registered from the crumbling gate.

An armored vehicle tore through the mess and rammed into the first two SUVs in its way. The crash threatened to trigger an avalanche of steel, cement and wood and bring the entire building down on top of them.

King checked the elevator’s progress, swinging the rifle into both hands. “We’ve got company.”

“We already had company,” Granger said.

The elevator pinged before opening its doors. King fisted the operative’s shirt and dragged him inside the car as an army of cartel soldiers spilled out of the armored truck. “That was just the first wave.”

Chapter Fourteen

Her feet slipped out from under her. Scarlett hit the clean black tile with a thud. Oxygen stretched out of reach the harder she tried to control the impact. Her fingernails clawed into the thin grout, but it was no use getting to her feet.

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