“We’ve got company. Multiple—”
The hammering of automatic gunfire screamed from the speaker for a split second, then static.
“Shit,” Samuel said. He pointed to Philip. “Take Tommy and go—”
White flashes of muzzle fire flashed from Sarah’s left. Gunfire echoed inside the warehouse. Samuel ducked and covered his head as both of his men turned and opened fire.
Sarah dropped to the floor as bullets zipped overhead. Mandy rocked her chair from side to side, tipping it over onto the ground. Her arms were still tied to the bars that connected the front and back legs. She tugged and pulled, trying to set herself free.
“Where the hell are you going?” Samuel asked Vin who was exiting the fight.
Vin took cover behind a tower of boxes. Bullets tore through the edges of the cardboard as he drifted away. “You paid me to find and bring those two here, not engage in a fire fight.”
Samuel cowered behind a crate, then pulled a pistol from behind his back. He pointed a rigid finger at Vin. “You’ve still got one mark left on your contract. Don’t forget that or think about screwing me over.”
“You worry about yourself, and leave her husband to me. I’ll make good on our deal.” Vin vanished around the backside of the boxes.
Sarah crawled on her stomach toward Mandy who was slumped over on her side. Mandy flinched with each report. Her chin pressed to her chest as Sarah tapped her shoulder.
“Are you ok?” Sarah asked as she removed the gag from her mouth.
Mandy nodded while spitting any lose fibers from her lips. “Yeah. What are we going to do?”
The gunman near Mandy took multiple rounds to the chest that punched through his back. He stumbled backward into the stack of crates and crumpled. Blood smeared the face of the wooden boxes and ran down to the floor.
Sarah turned and looked at Samuel who was returning fire to the unknown threat closing in on them.
“I’m going to untie you, then we’ll sneak out of here,” Sarah said.
The gunfire ebbed.
Samuel snarled. “They’re going to pay for this. Mark my words.”
He ejected his spent magazine, then pulled a fresh one from his back pocket. He slapped it into place, then cycled a round.
Philip sagged to the side while holding his right shoulder. Blood raced down his thick arm from his shoulder.
Samuel snatched Sarah by her hair and yanked her off the floor. Pain lanced through her head as she grit her teeth. “Untie her friend, and let’s go. I’m not losing another big payday here.”
Philip bowed and stumbled toward Mandy. He loosened the knot and pulled the rope from her hands.
Sarah kicked at Samuel and swung her balled fists at his arm, trying to break free of his grip. “Let me go.”
“Shut it.” he said, dragging her through a maze of boxes. “If you two weren’t worth so much money to me, I would have already placed a slug in both of your heads.”
Samuel navigated the maze at a good clip with Philip and Mandy flanking them. He paused at any open spaces, then skimmed over the area with his pistol up in front of him.
The Irish mobster led them through the remainder of the warehouse to an exit on the far side of the building. Philip grunted and wheezed, but kept moving with Mandy’s clothing clutched in his hand.
“You know, you’re not going to get away with this, right?” Sarah asked, her voice filled with anger.
Samuel held them up just shy of the door. He leaned in close and pressed the side of his head to the surface. “I hate to break it to you, but I already have. Once you two are gone and your husband is dead, then this will be finished, and I’ll move on to the next job.”
He rammed the push bar with his hip. The door broke away from the jamb and swung outward. The smoky-gray sky met their eyes as they ran outside.
Philip shoved Mandy out of the building. She stumbled to the ground. Sarah turned to help her to her feet, but Samuel wouldn’t give any slack. He wrenched his arm, keeping her close.
Gunfire from inside the warehouse echoed through the open door as Philip lurched. Blood exploded from his chest. The hulking brute collapsed on top of Mandy as she was getting to her feet.
“Screw this. The client wanted you anyway.” Samuel left Mandy behind as she fought to crawl out from under Phillip’s dead weight.
Sarah reached out for her friend as Samuel dragged her away. She jerked her arm, and pulled toward Mandy.
Samuel kept a tight grip and yanked on her limb.
They moved along the edge of the dock. The waves crashed against the peer below. A multitude of feelings swelled inside of Sarah. Hate, pain, sadness, and fear all slammed into her at once. She had to make him pay for what he had stolen from her and Russell.
Sarah rammed her elbow into his side. The sharp blow doubled him over, but didn’t take him down. She jerked her hair free of his hold.
Samuel shoved her to the ground, then trained his pistol at her chest. A scowl washed over his face as he narrowed his eyes at her.
Multiple gunshots popped off to her left. Samuel flinched, then ducked. He returned fire, squeezing the trigger until the magazine went dry.
Two rounds caught him in the shoulder and chest. The pistol dropped from his hand as he stumbled backward. He dumped over the side of the pier to the water below.
A masked man rushed Sarah, sweeping the area with his piece. He closed in fast and grabbed her by the arm. He yanked her from the ground to her feet.
Sarah shoved him in the chest, then backed away. She looked to the ground for the pistol, then flitted her gaze back to the mysterious man.
He trained his piece at her head, stopping her cold. The whites of his eyes stared at her from the concealment of his dark mask.
Sarah raised her arms in the air, then froze. She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. Her brain worked to figure a way out of her predicament.
“Who are you?” she asked, demanding some sort of answer. “Why did you help me, and what’s going on here?”
The masked man looked to the opening of the warehouse, then back to Sarah. His hand repositioned over the grip of his piece. “We need to move. Now.”
His voice was deep, raspy, yet it sounded vaguely familiar, one that she struggled to place in that heated moment of tension and stress.
A thought flourished inside her head as to the mysterious man’s identity. It made her more nervous and scared than what she already was. Although she wasn’t one hundred percent sure, her gut feeling begged her to listen.
Sarah swallowed the lump of fear that clogged her throat, then asked, “Spencer? Is that, you?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
RUSSELL
The rucksack weighed heavily on Russell’s back. A dull, nagging pain tormented his muscles. Each step over the rugged terrain punished his body. His shoulders sagged with exhaustion and his legs burned, but he couldn’t stop.
Johnson lifted his arm in the air, then balled his fingers into a fist. He stooped down and groaned, within the tall blades of grass and bushes with his attention trained ahead.
Russell crouched and moved to his side with both dogs flanking him. They stayed silent, but remained on high alert. Their ears stood on end as they waited for their handler’s command.
“That’s it,” Johnson said. His face contorted in pain as he pointed to a large, sheet-metal building. “Best guess, this is where he’d bring her. It’s far enough away from any prying eyes. Plus, it’s secluded. Surrounded by trees for miles.”
Russell skimmed over the area for any movement. The outside was void of any armed gunmen. Rows of eighteen wheelers lined the far side of the structure. Heaps of timber littered the open yard. A mixture of trucks and SUV’s were parked in front of what appeared to be the entrance to the building. There didn’t appear to be any work going on, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any activity on the inside.
“I don’t see any of his men stationed outside,” Russell said. “From the
way Tony spoke, he made it sound like they’d be on high alert.”
“Who knows,” Johnson shot back. “Those radios only work so far before they become choppy. Plus, with communications being down, that could be affecting it as well. Besides, having a bunch of men standing around a building with rifles and what not looks suspicious at best.”
Russell pulled the radio from his hip and switched it on. Static hissed from the speaker as he thumbed through the different channels. “I’ve got nothing here. If they’re in there, they’re being awfully quiet.”
Johnson shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. This is my best guess.”
Russell switched the radio off, then ran his hand over his face. He glanced at the building and sighed. “All right. We go down there, and check it out, then.”
“We?” Johnson asked with a raised brow. “I brought you here which has already put me at risk. I’m not stepping foot into that building or anywhere around it. This is as far as I go. Plus, my leg is messed up.”
“Oh, but I think you are. You’re not done yet.” Russell stood, then jerked Johnson from the ground by the scruff of his uniform.
“All right, damn.” Johnson hissed as he favored his injured leg.
Both Max and Butch sprung from their crouched positions.
“Is there another way inside the building besides the main entrance or roll up doors?” Russell asked.
Johnson pointed to the east side of the building. “Yeah. There’s an entrance over there we can use.”
Russell ejected the magazine from his pistol and looked it over. He only had maybe three or four rounds left. “Do you have any magazines left on your duty belt?”
“Yeah. I’ve got one left.” Johnson removed it from its pouch and gave it up.
Russell secured the additional magazine in his back pocket. He moved out of the tree line and down the hill with Max and Butch flanking him. Johnson limped along at his side as they made their way to the open yard.
They used the large heaps of scraped timber as cover and darted from one mound to the other. Butch and Max sniffed the dirt and sawdust that carpeted the ground.
The dogs worked their way through a narrow gap between two large piles of stacked wood toward the building. Russell followed close behind as Johnson brought up the rear.
“Hold up, guys,” Russell said, in a low tone as they neared the edge of the massive tree trunks. He squeezed past the dogs, then peered out into the open space which was free and clear of any threats. “All right. Let’s go.”
Russell took the lead with Max and Butch at his side. Johnson grumbled under his breath, but moved just the same.
The east side of the building had more stacks of discarded lumber that littered the grounds. It made it hard to spot any threats within the jumbled mess. Russell relied on the dogs who didn’t offer any warnings.
They navigated the maze which led to a single steel door that was propped open. Russell brought the pistol to bear and approached with caution. Smoke plumed from inside and lifted into the air.
Chatter could be heard from the opening. Russell paused, then tilted his head. He couldn’t make out what was being said as their voices were muffled and faint.
The door pushed open a hair farther. Russell froze, then drew a sharp breath. Both Max and Butch lowered their ears as subtle growls called from their throats.
A hand emerged from the building, then flicked an extinguished cigarette bud to the ground. Boisterous laughter rang out as the door slammed shut.
Russell advanced, stopping shy of the door. He glanced back to Johnson.
“You know you’re going to get us killed, Cage,” Johnson said, in a low whisper. “This is nothing short of suicide.”
“I’m not, so shut up,” Russell replied.
He leaned in close and pressed his ear to the door. He couldn’t detect any chatter or other sounds from the other side. Perhaps they moved on. It was a risk worth taking.
Russell grabbed the silver handle mounted near the edge of the door. Max stood at the ready by his side with his nose trained at the opening. Butch growled as he waited patiently to move.
Russell gently tugged on the handle. The door opened without resistance. The hinges squeaked, but it was subtle and barely audible. He froze and listened for any responses to the noise just the same. None came.
Max inched closer to the narrow gap. His nose tested the air as Russell opened the door more. He motioned with his hand for the German shepherd to stay put. Max stepped back as Russell pulled open the door.
He peered inside the dimly lit space. Shadows plagued the area and made it hard to see. He didn’t spot any figures moving within the murk or hear any footfalls to indicate that danger was close at hand.
“Ok. Give me the lay-” Russell said, as he glanced back. Johnson was no longer there. Russell craned his neck and searched for the deputy, but couldn’t lay eyes on him.
Damnit.
Russell pursed his lips and cursed under his breath. He wasn’t surprised by the deputy leaving him high and dry. His treachery was bound to happen sooner or later. Russell just hoped he ran away, and didn’t decide to alert anyone to their presence. Given his reluctance to come this close, Russell figured he tucked tail and bolted.
It was heads or tails of where to start, so Russell decided to head up the stairs. Perhaps he’d be able to get a better view of the building from up high.
The dogs funneled inside and sniffed the ground as Russell closed the door. The outer edges kissed the jamb, but didn’t sound a warning.
Russell patted his leg and headed up the stairs. Both Max and Butch followed close behind. The soles of his boots clanged off each step as they climbed to the catwalk.
The murk faded away to strident light that shone through massive windows that rimmed the backside of the building. Russell trained the barrel at the steel walkway with his back against the railing.
They hit the landing and moved along the catwalk. Offices lined the south side of the walkway, starting about twelve feet before them. The interiors of each were dark and absent of any movement.
Russell glanced over the side of the railing and spotted two men standing near one of the roll up doors. Each had rifles slung over their shoulders as they chatted. There was no sign of Cathy, but the building was big, and the main entrance was on the far side.
They continued on, moving past each office as Russell glanced through the dingy windows. He skimmed over the dark interior, finding nothing more than vacant desks and empty bookcases.
Butch growled, then turned around to face the way they came. The muscles in his back and shoulders twitched as he lowered his head. Footfalls echoed up the steel steps toward the catwalk.
Russell glanced to the office they were close by, then back to the stairs. He didn’t want to get into a shoot-out. Stealth and silence were their best chance at finding Cathy undetected.
He opened the door to the office and funneled the dogs inside just as one of Marcus’s men hit the landing. The man stopped, then lit a cigarette as Russell dipped inside the stale smelling space. He pushed the door closed and peered out of the small, square window next to the entrance.
The man came into view as he strolled down the walkway. Smoke seeped through his lips as his hand rested on the grip of the pistol nestled in the front part of his jeans. It didn’t appear as if he was in search of any sort of threat, but he appeared to be ready if he found one.
The canines grew anxious, moaning and growling from the footfalls that drew closer. Russell shushed them again, but it did little good. The threat beyond the walls had them on edge, and they were struggling to contain themselves.
“Guys. You need to keep it—”
Butch barked.
Russell cringed, then peered out through the blinds.
The man stopped, then yanked the pistol from his jeans. The cigarette was fixed between his lips as he sucked on the end. He turned toward the empty office before the one they were in. He brought his weapon to b
ear and inched toward the space.
Russell watched him scope out the office, then vanish from sight. He craned his neck as far as he could and waited for him to come back into view.
The man shut the door, then continued on. Russell closed the blinds and ducked. He moved to the side of the entrance of the office, and crouched against the wall as he kept watch on the door. Butch groaned, but stayed silent. Max stood at the ready at Russell’s side.
The doorknob twisted.
The canines’ growling grew louder and more intense.
Russell gulped, then drew a sharp breath as his finger slipped over the trigger.
The door cracked open. A thin beam of light bled into the office. Russell tilted the barrel of the pistol upward, ready to fire if need be. He had no intentions of killing the man unless absolutely necessary. He probably knew where they were keeping Cathy.
The hinges squeaked as the man pushed the door open farther. His arms came into view as he stepped forward.
Russell grabbed his wrist and jumped up. The barrel of his pistol pressed to the man’s temple before he could think of chambering off a single round.
“Don’t even think about pulling that trigger,” Russell said.
“Who the hell are you?” the man asked.
Russell pried the weapon from the man’s hand and secured it behind his back. “It’s none of your concern who I am. Where are you keeping the woman?”
“What woman?” the man asked.
“Don’t mess with me, pal.” Russell grabbed a handful of the man’s shirt and shoved him against the door. “The woman your boss kidnapped. Where are they keeping her?”
The man held his hands in the air in protest, then said, “Listen, I don’t know—”
Russell pressed the barrel into the middle of the man’s forehead. Max and Butch growled as they stalked the man from the shadows.
“I’d rather not kill you, but if you don’t tell me what I want to know, I will,” Russell said. “Now, where is she?”
“All right, man, just calm down and lower that canon,” the man said, with a stutter. “She’s over on the far side. One of the offices. Room 2B.”
Survive The Fall | Book 2 | Madness Rising Page 17