Don't Let Go by Skye Warren

seized. It was a win. A major win, even if Carlos wasn’t among the men there.
    “Carlos?” I asked.
    “Not sure. We’ll have to interview them when we book them.”
    “Understood. I’ll contact base.” I was under strict orders to report back to Brody. Then again, I’d proven I wasn’t always keen on following orders to the letter. In this case, it seemed fair enough.
    “Wait,” Hennessey said.
    There were low voices over the mic, too soft to make out. It sounded like he was talking to someone else. I paused, waiting. Then a shout came, as if from someplace away from him. Another shout.
    Something was wrong.
    “Hennessey,” I said, too softly for him to hear me, afraid I’d distract him at some crucial moment.
    A loud sound crashed through the speakers just before everything went dark.
    “ Ian! ”
    Too late. He was gone. The whole system had gone quiet. The comm guy practically shit his pants, cycling through the frequencies, trying to pick it back up. Lance was muttering fuck fuck fuck under his breath. I was completely still, processing. Whatever had happened over there, it was bad. Really bad. My imagination filled in the radio silence, envisioning Carlos lined up against the wall with other rough criminals. He would have realized he was caught, that even if he played dumb, we’d be able to figure out his true identity. Cornered, he’d done the only thing he knew how to do—he’d fought his way out. And Hennessey had been talking to me. He’d been distracted.
    Lance had it right. Fuck.
    I was out of the van before I realized what I was doing, pushing through the double-wide doors and breathing in cool, misty air. It had rained. In the forty-five minutes we’d been cooped up inside the bulletproof van, it had rained and I hadn’t even realized it. I looked out over the plains and long dirt road, over the tin roofs of the dockside warehouses, and felt a million miles away from Hennessey.
    I started for the cluster of buildings when something caught my elbow. No, some one .
    Lance frowned down at me. Only then did I realize he was taller than me. The way he held himself was usually lower, designed to draw less attention to himself. But that was changing. When he’d stood up to Tyler Martinez on our unauthorized field trip, I’d seen another side of him. That side was gradually coming out more, and I’d be glad for it, once this was all over. Right now, he needed to stand aside.
    “Let go of me,” I demanded.
    “We’re supposed to stay in the van.”
    “Bullshit. They could be in trouble.”
    “And you’re going to help them with what? Your service weapon?”
    Good point. They had high-powered assault rifles and body armor. I had a Glock. Still, no way was I sitting still while our men were possibly getting killed.
    “I’m going in. Bottom line. These are our people, and they might need us. You’re not going to change my mind, so the question is, are you going to help me?”
    To his credit, Lance deliberated for only a second. He nodded, and with a quick glance at the van, we slipped along the path and stole behind the nearest building. It was still easily a mile’s distance between our location and the main warehouse. This late in the day, the sun was almost horizontal with the ground. It cast a blinding orange glow everywhere it could reach. The other sides of the buildings lay in shadows.
    When I reached the main cluster of buildings, I paused at the corner.
    Clear.
    Lance signaled me ahead while he provided cover, and I returned the favor at the next building. It would go faster if we could run straight through the main streets, but we had no idea what enemies might be waiting in the wings. Even our own people might shoot first and ask questions later if they were in the middle of a firefight.
    Sprinting, I rounded a Dumpster and pulled up short beside the building. I breathed hard and waited for Lance to catch up with me.
    He didn’t.
    Peeking around the Dumpster, I called out in a