Page 40 of Find Me
When Romano reached out to touch Penny’s face and she flinched away, Hawke had reached his limit. “I’m not waiting any longer,” he said, bursting from the van.
Archer yelled his name, but he was already on the move. He ran the block back to the mansion, arriving in a few short minutes.
“Hawke,” came Archer’s voice through the earpiece. “I’ve got eyes on the surveillance and the blueprints in front of me.”
Hawke’s jaw tightened. “Tell me the way,” he said, jumping over the fence, lifting his weapon and blending into the shadows. A team of men were hard to hide. He was not.
“Garden door,” Archer said. “Up the stairwell, to the right, down another staircase into the basement and then down another hallway.”
A gunshot echoed from his right, and he recognized it as either Ronan or Jett creating a diversion. He slipped through the doorway again.
“Two hostiles approaching from the east,” Archer said calmly in his ear.
Hawke raced up the staircase then pressed himself behind a pillar as they passed, unaware of him.
“Go,” Archer ordered. “Basement is clear. End of hallway, two hostiles.”
Hawke slipped into the basement and moved with swift precision, his senses heightened. Every muscle tensed, ready for confrontation. Failure was never an option, but especially when Penny needed him.
He strode silently down the hall, his footfalls making no sound, his weapon aimed, ready to disable any threat. Every sense strained for clues—the scuff of a boot, the click of a safety being disengaged.
Up ahead, the two guards flanked Penny’s door, assault rifles held loosely. Sloppy.
Hawke measured distances, calculated angles of attack. When he was ten feet away, one of the guards turned, just beginning to register Hawke’s presence. Too late.
Hawke exploded into motion, his fist crashing into the first guard’s throat. The man choked, staggering back. Before he could recover, Hawke spun and slammed his elbow into the second guard’s temple. He dropped like a stone.
The first guard lunged, trying to bring his rifle to bear. Hawke grabbed the barrel and twisted viciously. The guard cried out as his finger bones snapped. A swift knee to the gut doubled him over. Hawke grabbed the guard’s arm, twisting it sharply until he cried out in pain, then knocked him unconscious with an elbow to the temple.
Both guards were neutralized in seconds. Hawke disarmed them quickly, then turned to the door, shoving it open.
“Penny,” he called.
She snapped her head up, her eyes locked with Hawke’s, filled with a swirling mix of relief, residual fear, and something even sweeter.
“Hawke!” she gasped. “Help. I can’t get free.”
He raced forward, using his knife to cut her loose.
Footsteps pounded down the hall, distorted shouts growing louder. Their window was closing fast. Hawke helped Penny to her feet.
“We need to go,” he said, wrapping an arm firmly around her waist. They moved swiftly down the hallway. He was hyperaware of every sound, every shadow, ready to neutralize any threats.
Static crackled in Hawke’s earpiece followed by Archer’s clipped tones. “You’ve got a hostile converging on your position.”
Hawke gave Penny a tight nod. “Stay behind me. We’ve got company.”
Penny gave a curt nod back.
The guard appeared a hairsbreadth later and came at Hawke with a knife. He deflected the blade, twisted the man’s wrist until he dropped it with a grunt, then swept his legs out from under him. The guard hit the ground hard, gasping for breath. Hawke stomped down hard on his solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him.
“Move,” he told Penny. He kept his eyes peeled as they continued making their way through the hallway.
“Clear,” Archer said, urgently. “Go.”
Hawke swiftly guided Penny up the stairs.
“Hostile,” Archer barked.
