knocked like the other man had and waited.
The door cracked open and a man with a gun ducked his head out.
Remy grabbed him by the hair, jerked the man’s head down and his knee up, connecting with the guard’s nose.
The man went down, blood spewing from his broken nose.
His team was already behind him, ready to storm the stronghold, take down the bad guys and free any captives. Irish made quick work of securing the man and his mouth and dragged him into the dark where they’d been hiding.
The team entered the labyrinth of storerooms and offices, checking each door along the hallway.
Remy took one side of the hallway, Tuck took the other and they cleared each room until the hallway ended in a T-junction. The sound of voices drew them to the right.
Angry shouts made Remy break into a run.
Then a loud bang echoed off the ceilings and the voices went silent for a moment.
His heart in his throat, Remy ran toward the end of the hallway where the sound had originated. Footsteps pounded behind him.
Two men emerged from a doorway three feet in front of Remy. When they spotted him, they drew their guns.
Before they could fire, Remy and Tuck plowed into them like linebackers on a winning football team. They slammed them to the floor and knocked their guns from their hands. Remy rolled his guy over and yanked his arm up toward the middle of his back.
“Help!” the man shouted.
Remy rammed the guy’s face into the concrete and he lay still, out cold.
Swede jumped on the man Tuck had pinned, pulled his arms behind his back and slapped handcuffs on his wrists.
Tuck pressed the man’s face so hard to the floor, he couldn’t shout, but he grunted a lot. Pulling a bandana from his back pocket, Tuck stuffed it into the man’s mouth, careful not to get his fingers bitten off.
Two men down. How many more did Rocco have to defend the place?
A big guy emerged from the door at the end of the hallway.
Remy leaped to his feet and charged. If the man spotted the team before he got to him, the bad guy might pull back, lock the door and kill Mitchell before Remy could get to her.
The man’s eyes widened when he saw what was going on and his cheeks flushed an angry red. He drew his gun and stepped back.
Seeing his chance slipping away and still too far away from the man to get there on time, Remy threw himself into a slide like a baseball player sliding into home. With his feet in front of him, he hit the man’s ankles, knocking his legs out from under his body.
The man fell sideways, hit his head on the doorframe and stayed down.
Remy bounced back on his feet and dove over the downed man into the room.
A woman screamed.
Rolling to the side, Remy came up, pointing his handgun at the men advancing on him.
“Eyes right, Remy!” Mitchell shouted.
His gaze cut to the right. Too late. A man kicked the gun out of his hand and it flew across the room under a chair. The same man reared back to kick him again.
This time Remy was ready. He grabbed the man’s leg and yanked hard. The guy fell flat on his back, the wind knocked out of him.
Another man flew at Remy.
At the last second, Remy stepped to the side, his gaze sweeping the room.
The man missed and crashed into the wall.
Tuck, Swede, Fish and Irish entered the room, guns drawn.
“Put down your weapons or someone will get hurt,” Tuck said.
“That’s right. Someone is going to get hurt.” Candi, the redheaded dancer from the Naughty Ladies Lounge, held a gun to Mitchell’s temple while Rocco pinched her arms behind her back. The woman snorted. “That’s right. Put them down or this bitch dies.”
“We don’t negotiate with terrorists or human traffickers,” Irish said.
“Then you won’t miss her.” Candi pressed the gun harder and Mitchell’s head tilted away.
Mitchell’s body went limp. Rocco struggled to hold onto her as she slid toward the floor. When her head cleared the barrel of the weapon Candi held on her temple, Mitchell kicked. Her
The door cracked open and a man with a gun ducked his head out.
Remy grabbed him by the hair, jerked the man’s head down and his knee up, connecting with the guard’s nose.
The man went down, blood spewing from his broken nose.
His team was already behind him, ready to storm the stronghold, take down the bad guys and free any captives. Irish made quick work of securing the man and his mouth and dragged him into the dark where they’d been hiding.
The team entered the labyrinth of storerooms and offices, checking each door along the hallway.
Remy took one side of the hallway, Tuck took the other and they cleared each room until the hallway ended in a T-junction. The sound of voices drew them to the right.
Angry shouts made Remy break into a run.
Then a loud bang echoed off the ceilings and the voices went silent for a moment.
His heart in his throat, Remy ran toward the end of the hallway where the sound had originated. Footsteps pounded behind him.
Two men emerged from a doorway three feet in front of Remy. When they spotted him, they drew their guns.
Before they could fire, Remy and Tuck plowed into them like linebackers on a winning football team. They slammed them to the floor and knocked their guns from their hands. Remy rolled his guy over and yanked his arm up toward the middle of his back.
“Help!” the man shouted.
Remy rammed the guy’s face into the concrete and he lay still, out cold.
Swede jumped on the man Tuck had pinned, pulled his arms behind his back and slapped handcuffs on his wrists.
Tuck pressed the man’s face so hard to the floor, he couldn’t shout, but he grunted a lot. Pulling a bandana from his back pocket, Tuck stuffed it into the man’s mouth, careful not to get his fingers bitten off.
Two men down. How many more did Rocco have to defend the place?
A big guy emerged from the door at the end of the hallway.
Remy leaped to his feet and charged. If the man spotted the team before he got to him, the bad guy might pull back, lock the door and kill Mitchell before Remy could get to her.
The man’s eyes widened when he saw what was going on and his cheeks flushed an angry red. He drew his gun and stepped back.
Seeing his chance slipping away and still too far away from the man to get there on time, Remy threw himself into a slide like a baseball player sliding into home. With his feet in front of him, he hit the man’s ankles, knocking his legs out from under his body.
The man fell sideways, hit his head on the doorframe and stayed down.
Remy bounced back on his feet and dove over the downed man into the room.
A woman screamed.
Rolling to the side, Remy came up, pointing his handgun at the men advancing on him.
“Eyes right, Remy!” Mitchell shouted.
His gaze cut to the right. Too late. A man kicked the gun out of his hand and it flew across the room under a chair. The same man reared back to kick him again.
This time Remy was ready. He grabbed the man’s leg and yanked hard. The guy fell flat on his back, the wind knocked out of him.
Another man flew at Remy.
At the last second, Remy stepped to the side, his gaze sweeping the room.
The man missed and crashed into the wall.
Tuck, Swede, Fish and Irish entered the room, guns drawn.
“Put down your weapons or someone will get hurt,” Tuck said.
“That’s right. Someone is going to get hurt.” Candi, the redheaded dancer from the Naughty Ladies Lounge, held a gun to Mitchell’s temple while Rocco pinched her arms behind her back. The woman snorted. “That’s right. Put them down or this bitch dies.”
“We don’t negotiate with terrorists or human traffickers,” Irish said.
“Then you won’t miss her.” Candi pressed the gun harder and Mitchell’s head tilted away.
Mitchell’s body went limp. Rocco struggled to hold onto her as she slid toward the floor. When her head cleared the barrel of the weapon Candi held on her temple, Mitchell kicked. Her
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