“Shit!” Case yelled before returning with a punch of his own.
Jesse took it right on the jaw. The pain flared, but it also kept him in the here and now. He looked to his left and the operatives had scattered, though their numbers had diminished since it was taking two of the eight to hold down Li and Erin.
“They won’t shoot!” Jesse yelled.
“Like fuck we won’t,” the one pointing a gun at Li said.
Case pointed that gun at Jesse again. “Stand down. On your knees.”
Jesse wasn’t fooled again. Though the words the man used were a trigger for him, the actual trigger told the tale. “Your fucking safety’s on, asshole.”
He punched him again, hard across the bridge of his nose, and Case went down. Jesse looked up and Big Tag was moving into the room, his body protected by a large man in the same black uniform everyone else was wearing. He had his hands up and a tense look on his face as Tag forced him into the room, a SIG at the back of his head. There was no way Tag had the safety on that one.
“Let my people up or I will blow this motherfucker’s head off his shoulders. And I don’t want to do that. I don’t even have plastic down. My wife has a strict edict that when I blow some dude’s head off, I have the courtesy to put some plastic down. You’re going to get my wife pissed at me.”
“They have their safeties on,” Jesse said. “I think that’s Michael Malone you’ve got. Si would be sad if you offed him.”
“I can live with disappointment,” Simon said as he walked in from the break room. Unfortunately, he’d been caught. His hands were up, his eyes icy.
“Why don’t you let my guy go and we’ll talk about letting this one off the hook,” a man with a slow Southern accent said.
“Or I could blow your head off.” Charlotte Taggart placed a semiautomatic at the back of Simon’s captor’s head. “Ian, where is the plastic tarp? I told you, I don’t want blood on the carpet.”
Ian’s whole body went tense. “Oh, there’s going to be blood. I promise you that. You listen and you listen good whoever you are. That is my wife behind you. She’s pregnant. If you try a goddamn thing, I swear to god I will spend the rest of my life hunting you down and when I catch you, I will ensure that you live a long time in as much pain as your body can take.”
“Fuck.” The guy immediately dropped his weapon. “Taggart, no one said anything about pregnant women. I promise. Check my weapon. There’s no ordnance in it. None of us would ever hurt an innocent woman, much less a baby.”
The door to the break room opened again. “What the fuck is going on? There are babies back there. And I’m pretty sure one of them pooped. Is Ten playing a joke on us? Is this some sort of practical joke?”
Jake Dean rushed into the room. “I got one down when he tried to leave the back room. He walked in and stared for a minute before practically running out.”
“Shit. Did you kill Boomer?” Malone asked.
“He’s napping. What the fuck is going on?” Dean asked.
“I want to know where Phoebe Graham is.” Ten strode back into the room, but he wasn’t alone. He had Sean Taggart in his grip, a gun placed against his head. Ten had pulled his mask off, obviously realizing the game was up.
“Fuck me, Ian. I’m sorry. I had headphones on. I didn’t even know he was in the kitchen until he had me,” Sean said.
“Because you’re supposed to be safe here,” Ian said to his brother before his eyes shifted to Ten. “I will kill this man if you don’t let my brother go. Do you understand me? You have thirty seconds or I’ll do it.”
“And you have ten seconds to give me Phoebe,” Ten shot back. “I didn’t want to do it this way, but I’m not leaving here without her.”
Something was wrong with this scenario. Ten was willing to burn down a whole lot of houses for a single operative. “She’s alive.”
“Then bring her out here. You give me Phoebe and I’ll let Sean go, and then Tag and I never have to speak again,” Ten practically snarled. “Don’t you call me when you get in trouble, Ian. Do you understand me? I won’t answer it. You’re not the man I thought you were.”
“She’s safe, Ten. No one’s hurt her.” Jesse was watching Ten closely. Tennessee Smith was always in control. Always smooth and easygoing. Even when shit was going down, Ten was the kind of guy whose blood pressure never ticked up. He was a man who cultivated relationships and yet he was trashing an important one.
“Tag, I’m going to ask you not to kill my cousin,” Simon said calmly. “Let’s murder this one instead.” He had his hands on the one who had captured him.
“Or we can kill them all,” Tag promised. “I think that might be the best solution.”
“Is she your lover?” Jesse wasn’t so sure anyone had to die. Ten seemed more like a desperate man than a leader trying to get back a team member.