Page 56 of His Coveted Obsession

“We are ghosts. Remember your training,” he concluded before he ran off, sword in hand.

Sully and I jogged through the fields, hopping over fences and passing cattle, careful not to startle them.

There were floodlights over the barn and house, so the back area was well lit. This was where we had to be careful not to get caught. Sully veered off toward the house as I headed toward the barn, keeping to the shadows.

“I’m pinging off a satellite pointed down on you,” Layla said in my ear. “Easton, you have a guard headed your way at ten o’clock. The other guard is stationary. Sully, two guards are flanking the basement door.”

I tucked myself next to two bales of hay and waited for the guard to pass. With a knife in my hand, I twirled it in between my fingers, keeping my heart and breathing steady.

The man passed me, his rifle strapped to his back. That would be his death.

I snuck up behind him, quickly grabbed him, covering his mouth as I shoved my knife into the base of his neck, right into his brain stem. I held onto him and pulled him down to the ground as his body stopped fighting. Knife wounds were never instant death, but he would die in a minute once his brain was severed from the rest of his body.

My heart rate barely accelerated as I dragged his body behind the bales of hay. It wasn’t perfect, but it bought me time.

The other guard was harder, since he stood sentry underneath a floodlight. I picked up a rock and tossed it closer to me, away from the light.

“Dean? That you?” he called out.

I peeked around the corner, watching him pull out his rifle and aim it in front of him. That was going to be a problem. If he fired first, it would alert the rest. And I needed to incapacitate him before he called for help.

As soon as he came around the corner, I used a roundhouse kick to knock the gun from his hands, then I quickly spun and kicked his head. As soon as he dropped to the ground, I stabbed the back of his neck as I had done with the first man.

As he bled out, I dragged him toward the back of the barn, away from the light, and rushed to get his rifle and put it with him. I removed my glove and checked his throat. He had no pulse, so I continued on.

On the other side of the barn was an overhang. I grabbed the ledge and pulled myself up. Once on the roof of the overhang, I walked over to the row of windows. I peeked through each one, walking along the roof, counting heads. Sure enough, the boys, ranging from three to eight, were being held in the stables. They were sleeping on mattresses as two guards patrolled back and forth. I counted the total number of children. Nine. The exact number of children who were missing.

“All the boys are here,” I whispered.

“Upstairs is clear,” Khai responded. “Heading down to the next level.

“Two more guards, but there is a room full of older boys of about eighteen sleeping,” Sully whispered.

“Dalton is here and says to take them out as well. They’re already indoctrinated and pose a threat. We are to save the children only,” Layla relayed.

Sully groaned. “Ugh, I hate using a gun.”

“Do it quickly,” Dalton said over the line.

“Let me clear the downstairs, and Easton, you clear the barn first. Kill the guards, and then I’ll be down to help you with the others,” Khai suggested.

“Aye, aye…” Sully said.

Once the plan was set, I gently slid the window open, careful not to make any noise. The best way to kill the guards was to shoot them from above. It was too risky to go down there. They could kill the children by accident… or use them as hostages.

I aimed my gun at the man closest to me, pacing along one side of the stalls. As soon as he passed the other man, I fired a round into his head. He instantly dropped, and the other manwas alerted, aiming his gun around the barn. Before he noticed the window open above, I fired a round into his head, killing him.

I holstered my gun, quickly jumped off the roof, and slid open the barn door. But as soon as I did, a third man I hadn’t seen fired at me. The bullet tore through my left shoulder, sending a wave of fiery pain throughout my shoulder and arm. I yanked my gun out and fired at him, missing him the first time, but got him the second, right in the throat. He dropped his weapon as his hands rushed to his throat, choking on his own blood. He dropped to his knees and fell to the ground.

“I’ve been shot,” I said. “I’m fine.”

Who knew if that was true? But I was still alive, so I opened the stable doors to grab all the children.

“Come. You’re safe now. We’re going to get you home.”

One by one, they woke up and stood. Most looked at me in fear, probably because of all the blood now dripping from my hand.

“I’m here to take you home,” I repeated. “Your parents are waiting.”

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