“I’ve got movement in the north wing.”
There was uncharacteristic excitement in P.J.’s voice when it came over the com. She, Cole, Skylar and two of Resnick’s snipers surrounded the holding while the others had fanned out, taking position at every possible entry point.
Explosives had been set on two concrete walls to blow a hole, giving them additional entry points. All they waited for now was go time.
“South too,” Cole said, checking in. “Looks like guards.”
Hope curled in Hancock’s gut despite his best attempt not to set himself up for disappointment. Again. But the other holdings they’d scouted were deserted. This was the first that showed any signs of life.
“We need a count of heat signatures,” Hancock broke in.
Yeah, he was down, but he wasn’t out, and he wasn’t taking a backseat in this. This was his mission. His fuckup. He was getting Honor back no matter what it took.
“I got three here,” P.J. reported in.
“Two here,” Cole said.
“There’s movement in the courtyard,” Edge said quietly. “Looks to me like they’re getting ready to move out.”
Hancock’s heart accelerated as did his breathing, and he paid for it when his lung expanded too rapidly and pain speared through his chest. But he ignored it because if there was movement, it meant that Honor was likely here and Maksimov was preparing to turn her over to ANE. He wasn’t too late.
Sorrow ate at his gut. Not too late to save her from the clutches of ANE but days too late to save her from whatever Maksimov had done to her.
Turn it off. Steele had told him to turn it off, and the man had experience in having to do just that. He’d nearly lost Maren and with it his iron control. Hancock did Honor no good by losing it. He was of no use to her mad with grief. He could get her and the others killed.
“Hold your positions,” Sam ordered. “Vehicle coming in the front gate. As soon as I give the all clear, we go in hot. We need to make it fast. Don’t give a shit how clean. Just make damn sure Honor isn’t caught in the crossfire.”
Everyone had their orders, so radio silence ensued. The snipers would take out their targets as soon as they could be sure Honor wasn’t in the way.
“I’ve got one heat signature completely still and seemingly suspended in midair,” Skylar said quietly.
Hancock knew she wouldn’t break radio silence unless she was sure this was Honor.
“Give me a minute to get a better sight line,” she said. Then she swore, and Hancock’s blood froze.
“It’s below the house. And the signature is faint. I’m betting on a basement secure room. Reinforced walls. Just the kind of place a prisoner would be kept.”
It was the fact that Skylar had said the heat source was completely still that panicked Hancock. And that it was faint. But no. Heat meant life. And if Skylar was right and it was a subroom with reinforced walls, that would explain the faintness of the signal. But not the stillness.
But she was alive, and that was all he could focus on or he’d lose his mind.
“Give me cover,” Hancock said quietly. “The subfloor is mine.”
Rio swore. “Not without backup. Don’t even argue with me.”
Hancock smiled faintly. “You don’t lead me anymore, Rio.”
“That doesn’t mean you still aren’t goddamn mine,” Rio said in a savage tone.
“Rio and I will have your six while the others clear a path,” Conrad said, siding with Rio.
“Vehicle is stopped. Three men. No one else. They’re all inside. We need to move now,” Nathan said.
“Go,” Sam barked.
And all hell broke loose.