The explosives go off one after another in a hellacious cacophony of rending metal.
Instantly, the alarm sounds, but I ignore the blaring as I give my men the signal to throw the second round of grenades.
Once the gate teeters on the brink of collapse, I raise my hand and bring it down decidedly.
We drive through and the gates collapse forward under the bumper, flattened by the speed and force of the armored jeep we’re in.
We smash into at least two guards who are trying to get their bearings on the heels of the gate’s collapse. Gunfire pings off the roof and doors.
The rest of my men roar into the compound and the jeeps circle rapidly, trying to establish the layout of the compound.
It’s definitely big, but not so big that locating my parents will be difficult.
In any case, Kian’s stealth guy has given us a building name and description to look for.
It’s the smallest building in the westernmost corner of the compound. Dark marked walls with a low, sloping ceiling. I can see the roof from my position in the jeep.
“Five of you, get out and help the others contain this,” I order to the men in my vehicle. “The rest of you are with me.”
The moment the jeep is emptied of five of my men, I turn to Mark, who’s driving.
“High-tail it over there. The smallest building in the western corner.”
He revs the engine and, within seconds, we’ve come to a violent stop in front of the dark, rectangular structure. I get out immediately and my men flank me as we pour inside.
Before I can kick down the door, it’s shoved open.
But my finger’s already on the trigger, and I open fire on the sorry sucker who decided he was a match for us.
Bap-bap-bap-bap-bap!
The man’s body falls to the wayside, riddled with bullets.
“Follow my lead.”
I run up to the windows on the wall around the corner and smash them in with the butt of my gun. My men do the same to the other panes.
Inside, I hear panicked voices. “Hurry the fuck up!” a man growls. “Get them out of the cell.”
The only reason that they’d need to get Da and Ma out of the cell is to use them as collateral. A bargaining chip to save their own hides and buy some more time.
Which means I have a very narrow window of opportunity.
It’s a risky move, but I’ve never been one to take the conservative option. I bust the last remaining window, jump through, and land on my feet on the other side. Glass clatters off me in glistening shards as I raise my gun and start shooting at the three special ops soldiers standing a few feet from me.
Two bullets of return fire scream past me before the last of the men hits the dirt, dead.
The door to the cell is hanging partially open. I sprint over and throw it wide. It takes me a few seconds for my vision to adjust to the darkness.
I spot my father first.
He’s on his feet, his expression a mask of aggression. He looks like a trapped animal who’s about to strike.
When his eyes fall on me, it twists into shock.
“Cillian?” he breathes.
“The one and only,” I fire back. “Where’s Ma?”