Page 84 of Fierce Hope
Deke fingered the detonator, hooking his thumb around the ring as he positioned himself to get the best aim. He planned to land the grenade as close to Sarah’s feet as possible. “Let’s get this party started.”
He and Christian slipped their military-grade headsets over their ears, shielding themselves for the coming blast.
“Three,” Christian counted down softly, his voice audible only over the comlink now. “Two. One.”
“Flash out,” Deke warned. He tugged hard, felt the pin slide free, and counted silently.
One-one-thousand …
He tossed the grenade through the doorway, turning his head, crouching down next to Christian. They both shielded their eyes.
Two-one-thousand.
A deafening bang and blinding flash erupted on the far side of the warped door.
Deke sprang to his feet, yanking the headset off his ears. “GO! GO! GO!”
44
Adrenaline surging hot and hard,Deke scanned the dim space, visibility dampened by the haze from the grenade. Through the chemical mist, he spotted Jade and DJ slumped against each other on an old workbench about twenty feet away, faces pinched tightly shut, flinching from lingering echoes of pain. Neither seemed fully aware of his presence, temporarily deafened and blinded, heads lowered protectively.
Sarah was doubled over. Hands pressed against her eyes. Weapon abandoned at her feet. Temporarily blinded and vulnerable, she braced herself against a pile of old wooden crates that stretched toward the three-story ceiling.
Christian advanced swiftly, gun steady and confident.
Deke rushed toward Jade and DJ, knife drawn. He was ten feet away when DJ shook his head, like a wet dog and jumped up, confused and disoriented.
“DJ! It’s me.” He shouted, but his son clearly hadn’t regained his hearing.
Giving no sign that he heard Deke, he stumbled away from the bench—his wrists already free—unknowingly moving directly toward Sarah.
Before Deke could shout a warning, Sarah rose.
Spotting Christian, she kicked wildly at the towering stack of crates.
“Watch out!” Deke warned. But it was too late.
Christian attempted to dodge, but the falling crates caught him off-guard, knocking him violently to the ground and pinning him momentarily beneath the debris.
Deke halted instinctively, torn between assisting his partner and reaching his son.
Those critical seconds of hesitation cost him dearly.
Sarah, her vision clearing, lunged frantically toward her fallen weapon and scooped it off the floor. Before Deke could close the gap, she reached DJ, grabbing him roughly and jerking him upright. DJ stumbled, eyes wide with shock, as Sarah pressed the gun tightly to his side.
“Stay back!” Sarah shrieked, backing slowly toward the black SUV. “Stay back, or I’ll kill him!”
Deke’s heart seized, and he froze in place, muscles coiled tightly with helpless tension. He stared at his son, struggling to maintain composure, desperately searching for an opening.
He glanced at Christian, who struggled to rise, clearly stunned but beginning to recover.
“Sarah, don’t,” Deke pleaded carefully, raising one calming hand while keeping the other firmly on his weapon. “Just let DJ go.”
Sarah shook her head frantically, edging toward the door, eyes darting wildly. “I’ll shoot him. Don’t test me.”
Deke froze, heart seizing at the sight of DJ under threat. Only fifteen feet separated him from his son, the distance now an unbearable chasm.
He raised both hands now, handgun dangling uselessly from his index finger. “Easy. Sarah, think about this.”
