Page 69 of Reclaiming Izabel

After gearing up, we joined Viktor’s huddle with the team. They were looking at a diagram on his tablet, a layout of the property ahead.

“Tim got us the floor plan of the farmhouse,” Viktor informed us. “Brick and Edmunds are scoping INFIL points. Drone shows seven heat signatures. Two perimeter guards. Three inside.”

“You said seven,” Drake said. “Izabel and?—?”

“Suspect it’s Mitchell.”

“Doing his own dirty work?”

Viktor shrugged. “The clusterfuck he’s in? I’m not surprised. No self-respecting military contractor would harm the wife of a brother.” He pressed on his earpiece. He was receiving a transmission from either Brick or Edmunds.

I studied the farmhouse behind the cover of the tree line that served as our staging area. It was sitting on maybe twenty acres. My phone buzzed once in my pocket. I slipped it out.

It was a message from an unknown number. Attached to it was a video. Terror unlike I’d ever felt before seized my lungs in a vise as the contents of the recording unfolded.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I said hoarsely. “Jesus…Izabel…no…no…no…”

My wife was squirming helplessly away from a big guy holding a syringe. When the man stabbed her in the neck, I wanted to roar. Izabel’s scream was the final hammer that shattered my nerves. My vision misted red as I watched her convulse.

Another message followed. “Let’s talk.”

“Gonna kill those motherfuckers!” I charged forward, totally feral. Two bodies tackled me. I grappled against them, threw one off, and punched another. Someone grunted.

I found myself pinned. Choking.

The red haze cleared, and I saw Viktor’s face snarling down at me. His forearm put pressure on my windpipe. “Get a grip, Maddox!”

“They’re killing her!” I snarled back.

“Tyrosine Penthanol. Not. Gonna. Kill. Her.”

That didn’t sound any better in my crazed mind. It was a torture drug. It caused unbearable pain in the form of fire through the veins like flesh-eating acid.

I wanted to howl, to rage, to cry. I attempted to reel it in, to find that calming center, but I was lost in a storm of fury and despair. Mitchell had found the one thing that would break me and send me to my knees.

Boots scraped the gravel beside us.

“I’ve got this.” Marcus Harrelson appeared above us.

Viktor pushed up and away. I remained on the ground.

Breathing in.

Expelling out.

A hand appeared in front of me. I stared at it for one beat, two beats. I grabbed it, letting Marcus haul me up straight into a tight hug.

My former commander murmured in my ear, “Don’t let Mitchell win, Lieutenant. This mission isn’t over until we get every single motherfucker who murdered our brothers.” Marcus drew back, keeping a hand firmly clasped over my nape to give me a supportive once-over shake. “We’ll get Izabel back. Got it?”

I gave a tight nod.

“Hooyah, brother.”

“Hooyah…Commander.”

I was calm.

We tookout the two perimeter guards with simultaneous suppressed sniper rounds.

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