A murmur goes up through the men.
“Where are they being held?” Rhys asks.
“The Cavern,” I reply.
More murmuring amongst the ranks as the buzz of excitement grows.
“We’ve got to have each other’s backs in there,” I tell them. “Now, let’s go get the big man back.”
As we jump into our respective jeeps, I run down the driveway and get into the first one at the head of the pack. I slam the passenger door shut and glance to the side.
I’m certain I catch a glimpse of red hair thrown by the wind.
Then I blink and there’s nothing but trees and the narrow bend of the lake to see.
Just a figment of my imagination, I’m sure.
The kiss Saoirse and I shared still feels soft against my lips. It’s effortless to bring back the overwhelming moment. Her smell, her heat, her touch…
But I can’t allow myself to be distracted right now.
It’ll have to wait.
The gates hurl open and we speed off the compound. The other ten men in the vehicle with me are quiet and focused. Each one checks over their ammunition and their gear, making sure everything is in order.
There’s nothing like the high of an impending battle to get a man’s blood flowing. But even though I’m trying to focus, I can’t help comparing it with the high of the kiss I’d just shared with Saoirse.
Somehow, the bloodlust coursing through me pales in comparison to the pure lust I feel for her.
I tell myself that’s a good thing.
I hope to God I’m right.
* * *
We arrive at the Cavern in record time. It feels like only minutes have zipped by.
With a firm mental effort, I shove aside the dancing image of Saoirse in my head.
The Cavern is a secure facility of nondescript buildings, all low and metallic, ringed by walls and topped with barbed wire.
But the quiet engulfing it tells me the motherfuckers inside are not prepared for this hellfire we’re about to rain down on them.
I press down on the comms button that links me to the leaders of all the teams following behind in their own vehicles.
“We’re gonna drive right up to the gate and let the grenades lose. The moment the gate falls, we drive through and open fire.”
“Roger,” comes a chorus of voices.
A second later, one of the drivers crackles through. “Boss, just got eyes on the gate!”
“Grenades!” I roar.
At least six rocket-propelled grenades fly out of the jeep and hit the tall brown gates.
For a moment, the night is silence.
Then we blow it the fuck open.