Page 32 of Blade

Savage materialized from the trees like a ghost, acknowledging Blade with a nod. Despite the gravity of the situation, Blade felt a surge of confidence. Savage was one of thebest operators he’d served with. Cold as ice in a crisis, lethal in execution.

"Status update?" Blade asked quietly.

"Rampage is in position to the west," Savage reported. "Irish just arrived, moving to the south. Two tangos still outside, four visible inside, including Hammer and Tim."

"And the SUV?"

"Still no visual on the driver or any other passengers. Could be Zeb, could be someone else."

Blade considered their options. "We need to take out the two outside silently, then breach simultaneously from multiple entry points. Minimize the risk to Tim."

Savage nodded. "Rampage can handle the two outside with that fancy crossbow of his. Then you and I take the front, Irish the back. Be advised, they've got Tim tied to a chair in the main room. Possible Dead Man's Switch scenario."

Shit.That complicated things. If Tim was rigged to explosives or had a gun to his head, a direct assault could get him killed instantly.

"We need eyes inside," Blade decided. "Confirmation of exactly what we're dealing with."

"Already on it," Savage said, handing him a small tablet. "Drone feed. Launched it five minutes ago."

Blade studied the thermal imaging on the screen. Six heat signatures inside the cabin. One, presumably Tim, seated and stationary in the center of the main room. Four others moving around, and a sixth, cooler signature in what appeared to be a back bedroom.

"Who's in the back?" Blade asked.

"Unknown," Savage replied. "Could be Zeb. Could be someone else. They've been in there since I arrived."

"Are they guarding the back exit?"

"Doesn't look like it. No consistent pattern of movement."

Blade made a decision. "Change of plan. You and Rampage take out the two outside. Irish covers the back exit in case anyone tries to flee. I'll go in through the bedroom window, neutralize whoever's inside, then work my way to the main room while you breach from the front on my signal."

Savage frowned. "Risky. You'll be outnumbered if the bedroom occupant raises the alarm."

"Better than a full frontal assault with Tim in the line of fire," Blade countered. "Besides, I work better alone."

That wasn't strictly true, not anymore. But it was easier than admitting he wasn't willing to risk Savage's life unnecessarily. Not when Savage had a wife and kid at home. Not when Blade himself only had?—

Don't go there. Focus on the mission.

Savage studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Your call, brother. But if I don't hear from you in ten minutes after you go in, we're breaching regardless."

"Fair enough," Blade agreed.

They synchronized watches, then Blade contacted Rampage and Irish, relaying the plan. Both acknowledged without question. Another advantage of working with former special forces—they understood chain of command and the importance of following orders in combat situations.

"Move out," Blade ordered, checking his silenced sidearm one last time.

Savage clasped his shoulder briefly. "Watch your six."

"Always do," Blade replied with a grim smile.

He moved through the trees like a shadow, keeping low, using natural cover to approach the cabin from the east side. The bedroom window was partially open, either a stroke of luck, or possibly carelessness on the part of the occupant.

Through his earpiece, he heard Rampage's whispered confirmation: "Targets acquired. Ready on your go."

"Execute," Blade commanded softly.

Seconds later: "Tangos down. Perimeter clear."

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