Page 41 of Avenging Devil: Part 2

“That kid know what he’s doing?” Drummer asks sharply, staring at the man who’s now in command of the monitors.

“Gears is as good as Stormy,” Snatcher reassures him. “He’ll be fine as our eyes.”

“Hey,” Gears says as he takes the seat Stormy’s just vacated, pointing again to the middle screen. “Check out the girl.”

“She hasn’t moved,” I tell him dismissively.

“Nah, and she won’t if she’s got any sense. Not with the canines they’ve got on her.” Gears gives a quick grin over his shoulder. “But no one’s bothered to check her, and I can’t see any blood.” He zooms in closer. “See? No entry or exit wound on her back or head.”

Doesn’t mean she wasn’t shot, but even so, my heart starts beating faster.

Lost gives me a quick glance before stating adamantly, “If she’s breathing, we’ll be getting her out.”

If she’s alive and is playing possum, we might. Though I have my doubts as to whether she is. If she’s alive, what’s her plan? To wait for dark and make a run for it? She must know even the Crazy Wolves won’t leave a dead body lying around for long.

“She’s fuckin’ moving,” Drummer suddenly snarls, lurching forward. “Goddammit! Will you look at that? One of the fuckin’ guard dogs just licked the hand she held out.”

She’s lived on the compound for five years. Among this lot, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d made friends with the dogs. “You think they’d protect her?”

“Can’t tell, Brother, but I don’t get the vibe they regard her as lunch.”

As I continue to watch, I tend to agree with Drummer. Then, I hold my breath as she moves slightly. Only an inch or two, but it’s toward the perimeter.“Looks like she’s planning to try and crawl her way out.”

I’m just amazed and thankful we’ve seen both of them breathing. It makes me think there’s a chance of this rescue working.

“We’ve got to go there now!” I shout. I turn, catching Swift’s eyes who nods at me.

She doesn’t waste time. “Comms open? Right. Group one. Hostage extraction—wait for me. Group two. Distraction. Get in place now. Group Three, head for the woman. Group four, sniper team and covering fire, confirm you’re in position.”

The speaker in front of Gears bursts into life with the confirmation.

That Saffie’s alive, though maybe not uninjured is the miracle that spurs us on. Almost comically, we squeeze our way out of the truck, fitting the earbuds into our ears. All at once, I get a cacophony of sound and I take it straight out again and look at it in disgust.

“All mics are currently open,” Stormy comes over, holding his device. “Gears will be handling the comms along with Igor and Brute.” He points to two prospects climbing into the truck we’ve just exited. “After that, it’s only the team leaders who’ll be able to transmit and receive, unless we need to hear from someone else. Give them a moment to sort it.” He looks back inside the truck, narrows his eyes and watches for a moment, then turns back and says with a nod, “Try again now.”

This time, it’s only Preacher’s voice I’m hearing.

With my mind off my ears, I start looking around, seeing men forming teams. I head Dart’s way to join the team that’s providing the distraction as has already been decided. I’d lost my wish to be in the vanguard myself, heading the charge to get Niran out.

Stormy prods my arm. “Change of plan. You’re with me and Peg. Swift wanted a second team to go in. And don’t forget this.” He hands me a Kevlar vest. Putting it on, I realise I’m the last man not sporting one.

I’m ecstatic with the change of plan. I toss him a grateful look, but add in a growl, “Still fuckin’ suspicious of you, Brother.”

Stormy snorts seeming unoffended, then leads the way to where Peg is standing.

Peg must notice me favouring my left leg. “You okay to walk? We’ll drive in as far as we can but may well have to traverse some ground.”

Knowing Peg himself has a prosthetic leg, I’m determined not to show myself up having two made of flesh and blood, even if one’s not working great right now. “I’ll be fine. Got stiff riding yesterday,” I reassure him. And I’d crawl if it meant Niran and Saffie will soon be safe and sound.

“Then let’s get fuckin’ moving,” Peg calls out, pointing to the bikes.

As I mount up and move to join them, I realise I know fuck all of the plan as this wasn’t supposed to be my team. Swift’s voice sounds in my ears, and presumably those of everyone riding.

“Explosives team. Slick, Pyro, Viper, Bolt, and Curtis, you ready to get into position?”

“Yeah, just waiting for covering fire,” or various versions come from five voices.

“And we,” ahead I notice Preacher, taking his eyes off the road for a moment, turning and grinning at the men behind him, “will soon be starting the attack.”

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