Chapter Thirty-One

Around one o’clock in the morning, they left Dave’s place.

Cash and Apollo waved them off, but there was no sign of Azrael. Echo knew the boy was wary of people other than his brother and Cash, so he didn’t really blame him. It was going to take some time to get used to all the changes after being caged for a year.

They took Real’s suburban and lent his SUV to Savage and Thane since they were from out of town and didn’t have a vehicle yet.

Grit jumped in the far back, wiggling from excitement.

“Settle down,” Ice told Grit and the dog immediately curled up in the back behind the rear seats.

“So, how are we doing this?” Real inquired when he drove up the onramp to Highway 101.

“I’m going in first,” Echo said from where he sat in the passenger seat. He checked each dagger on his belt and also the handgun he’d borrowed from Dave’s weapons room. The man had an arsenal in his house.

“And?” Real said, shooting him an annoyed glance.

“And you and I will come in about five minutes later,” Ice said. He wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but it made sense. He knew for a fact that Solomon would not want to see him there. Echo, on the other hand, Solomon coveted so that was the plan. Get Solomon distracted and then slip in and do the deed.

Arriving at the warehouse, Real parked and Echo got out and jogged to the door. Sure enough, Solomon had two men guarding the entrance.

“Probably guns for hire,” Ice said.

“That’s what I’m thinking.” Real pulled his weapon and kept it down out of sight.

If he and Real couldn’t get through the door right away, then that would hinder them helping Echo. Not that Echo needed help, but he didn’t know if Rogue or Fisher were in there yet. He pulled his phone out and stared at the screen waiting. The plan was to get a text…

Echo: No signs of Fisher or Rogue.

The buzz startled the shit out of him and he gave a sigh of relief. “Looks like Wrath and Justice did their jobs.”

“Maybe,” Real said.

Grit was growing anxious and Ice got out and opened the rear side door and the dog jumped over the back of the seat and darted out the door. He lifted his leg on the nearest bush.

“Sorry, boy.” Ice patted the dog’s head and pointed to the backseat.

Grit leaped back inside, but instead of sprawling on the seat, he once again jumped over the seat to the far back.

“Taking him in?”

“No, not at first, but he can open the door with these types of pull handles.”

“Well, that’s fucking cool,” Real huffed on a small laugh.

Echo rapped on Solomon’s door and waited. It had been tricky getting up there and he’d had to leave all his weapons with the hired thugs downstairs.

“Come in.”

Entering, he found Solomon sitting behind his desk. The room was empty. No signs of Fisher or Rogue and he hoped that they would stay away.

“What’s with the weapons check?”

“Were you at my warehouse?” Solomon snarled, cutting right to the chase.

“What warehouse?”

“Don’t play stupid. I have missing assassins and the video feed has been removed.”

“Are you admitting that you had Rogue take me there and cage me like a fucking animal again?”

“You’re getting out of hand.”

“Why? Because I want a life with Ice?”

“You can’t live a normal life.”

“Fuck you. You’re the twisted motherfucker here, not me or any of my brothers.”

They were told they weren’t allowed in the building and Ice had to smile at that.

“No?”

“No,” the big guard in front of the door said, placing a hand behind him, as if reaching for a weapon.

Ice throat punched him. The impact was hard. And he pile drove the fucker into the ground. The man’s head hit the ground and he gasped in agony…the gun he’d reached for tumbled on the ground. Real was on the other guard almost at the same time. Navy SEALs didn’t fuck around when it came to combat. The guy at Ice’s feet would probably die, but he was far from caring. His only thought was getting to Echo. Inside, he and Real were met with more resistance. And instead of a sneak attack, he was going to need to be more creative.

Twisting on a silencer to the end of his Banish forty-five, he took out the nearest fucker with a shot to the chest. Ice darted forward, shooting the guy in the head as he ran past. Bullets pinged a metal pole. He ducked and fired. Another man went down. Side by side, he and Real worked their way across the warehouse and up the stairs.

At the top, they stopped. That was where they met the most resistance.

Before Ice had time to register, he and Real were fighting five men. They were fucking good. With skills that compared to him and Real. Ice would bet money they were paid assassins.

Grit was suddenly there and Azrael darted up the stairs behind the dog.

“Azrael!” Real growled, but the young assassin didn’t stop.

A man turned on Grit when the big dog lunged and Ice saw the gun come up. He shot the fucker three times before he could get off a shot.

“Grit, down.” The dog dropped to his belly.

It wasn’t hard to miss the noise outside.

Echo watched Solomon’s face change.

“You brought help.”

“Yes.”

“You disappoint me.”

“Like I give a fuck,” Echo said. “Your minutes are numbered.”

Solomon slowly pulled up the gun he was holding. “I don’t want to kill you, but I will if you force my hand.”

The door slammed open behind him.

Fuck!

It wasn’t Ice and Real as he expected.

Azrael stood in the doorway, his eyes wild, his hair hanging in his face. The long-sleeved black t-shirt miles too big for his small frame.

“What are you doing here?” Echo snapped and grabbed at Azrael.

“You had no right to take me away from Solomon!” Azrael shouted at him, twisting away.

Echo stood stunned, he looked from Azrael over to Solomon.

Something nasty and sinister filled Solomon’s eyes and he held his arms out for Azrael.

“Don’t!” Echo said, grabbing Azrael’s wrist again, but the boy jerked free and raced across the room. Azrael launched himself into Solomon’s lap and Echo watched with growing horror when Solomon cupped Azreal’s ass.

The next second changed everything.

Ice and Real burst into the room behind him.

Solomon gasped and gurgled with his mouth like a fish. Blood spurted from the man’s neck and he slapped a hand up.

The wooden end of a cork screw protruded from his jugular. The spray of dark red covered Azrael. The boy seemed frozen staring at the pulsing blood. Then as if snapping out of it, Azrael reached up and twisted the corkscrew deeper even though Solomon was dead. Leaping agilely away, Azrael stumbled.

Real stalked across the room and snatched the boy up. Azrael screamed and clawed, but Real held him tight.

“He’s dead,” the big soldier soothed and Azrael broke down in tears.

Echo turned to Ice, who enclosed him in his arms. “Did we get the kids?”

“Yeah, we got them all.”

Azrael’s sobs filled the room, but somewhere in Echo’s chest, he felt the first stirring of relief.

They’d ended decades of tyranny.

Perhaps now he and the rest of the lost kids could find peace.