Chapter Eighteen

Caleb

Present Day

Locating the warehouse wasn’t the problem. Getting through the security gate was. From his hiding spot at the crest of a grassy hill, Caleb studied the compound’s buildings with its twenty-foot-high electrical fence and all the guards coming and going.

Behind that fence was Rossi. A man who was more like a father to him than a boss. A man who had taken a chance on him when he hadn’t needed to.

Caleb rubbed at the tightness in his chest, unable to move, frozen in place as if the world had stopped spinning. Was this what life would be like if anything happened to Rossi, Stefano, or Wild—or for that matter, any of them? Would he hang suspended unable to move when he needed?

Losing any of them would cripple the unit.

“Maybe we should try the front gate,” Storm murmured at his side and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Too many of them,” Caleb said, shaking his head, thankful for Storm’s words and the hand on his shoulder. It shook him out of his fear and galvanized him back into action. That was the benefit of working in a unit—someone was there to pull you back from the brink if needed.

Caleb kept low and backed down the grassy bank. Once he was out of sight of the compound, he stood and brushed his palms against his pants. Wolf approached and handed him an extra clip for his Glock and Caleb sent his husband a quick smile.

“You okay?” Wolf cupped his face in both hands and Caleb had no choice but to meet the man’s gaze.

“Yeah,” he said roughly, but he knew Wolf didn’t believe him. After a second, Wolf pulled him into his arms and hugged him tightly. The hug lasted only a moment, but it was enough to focus him.

Storm had followed him down the incline at a crawl and then slid on his ass the rest of the way down to stay out of sight.

Lash approached, holding out a pair of wire cutters. “Let’s try these as soon as Jagger and Jordan take care of the electricity.”

“Jordan, report?” Roscoe said, pressing his earpiece. The lieutenant stood not far from them in the dark cluster of trees they had found for cover near Kyle Dresor’s base.

Caleb couldn’t imagine what Roscoe and Storm were going through nor Noah and Seth. If it had been Wolf who’d gone missing, Caleb would have gone ballistic. His own need to be there went deep—he considered every single person in Phoenix to be part of his family.

A family that was just as tight as blood. He took the wire cutters from Lash—who hesitated for a split second and then released them to his grip.

Caleb smirked at his overprotective brother but didn’t complain—they’d come a long way over the past few years.

“Stay hidden,” Lash said.

Caleb gave his brother a quick nod. They didn’t call him Smoke for nothing. Like smoke, Caleb was able to slip into places that even Ghost couldn’t fit and that was saying something. Caleb’s only edge over Ghost was that he had a slighter build and wasn’t as tall.

“Okay?” Roscoe walked toward them.

“Yeah,” Caleb gripped the cutters in one hand and tucked his Glock into the back of his pants. Wolf stood at his side and reached out to tug his tactical vest closed.

Caleb let him. He’d learned a few years ago that his husband liked to coddle him. It wasn’t that hard to let Wolf do it because it brought a light to the man’s silver-colored eyes. He still had to pinch himself that they were finally married.

“You ready?” Wolf’s low, calm voice drew his gaze upward. In the dark, Caleb couldn’t see the silver color he loved, so he nodded and popped a kiss on Wolf’s mouth before pulling away to run hunched over to the bottom of the incline.

Belly crawling up the grassy incline to the fence, he pressed the device in his ear. “Ready.”

“Go,” Jordan said via the comm.

Quickly and efficiently, Caleb snipped the fence upward high enough so the largest men, which would be Storm and Quick, could slip through.

“It’s open,” he reported and then went through the fence at a quick hunched-over run. He made it to a massive propane tank about a hundred yards away. Both Wolf and Seth were at his flank in record time, and they crouched there waiting for the rest of the team to get into position.

There were two entry points into the building and the plan was to split the unit and enter the warehouse at both doors—once inside, they’d regroup.

However many men or however long this took, they were getting their loved ones back.

Seth

The door gave way beneath Frost’s boot and Seth was right on the man’s ass when they breached the building. Getting in had been easier than he’d expected.

The lighting wasn’t that good inside the warehouse and that was probably why Dresor only had one guard at this side door. Stupid, really, with all the men the guy seemed to have at his disposal.

Advancing farther, it looked like this area of the warehouse hadn’t been used in a while.

Running for cover behind a stack of supply-filled wooden pallets, Seth waited until Frost reached him. He tapped the man’s shoulder and pointed to high metal shelving that sat in rows.

“Let’s check that out.”

“Wait for the team,” Frost said.

The rest of the team were coming in another back door and a large window Lash had found unlocked.

Seth gripped his rifle and stayed crouched. Sometimes, he forgot about waiting and several times, his actions had gotten him a tongue-lashing from Roscoe.

But his fucking uncle was in there.

Sure, Rossi was a badass in his own right—Seth had seen Rossi fight in the training room one morning when his uncle had thought he and his sparring partner were alone. After watching for five minutes, Seth knew Rossi was taking it easy on Reggie. But holy fuck, he really hadn’t known how his uncle stayed in such good shape. It all came to light that morning when Rossi had fought as if still in the body of a thirty-year-old. His uncle certainly didn’t look his age and Seth could only hope he looked that good when he was almost fifty.

“Hold on,” Frost, the ever worrywart, whispered.

Seth gnashed his teeth, but leaned against his husband with a quiet sigh. Frost brushed a hand down his back and Seth felt the calmness seeping from the man. Just like fucking magic, Seth felt his whole body calm down. Which was odd because he hadn’t realized he was tense in the first place.

The rest of the unit materialized around them, each reporting the same thing—this side of the warehouse was unused with only the occasional guard walking through. They’d managed to avoid every single one after entry.

“Don’t fire. We don’t want them to know we’re here,” Roscoe murmured and the man’s finger circled in the air as one by one, the lieutenant sent them in different directions.

When Seth went to move forward, he found the back of his vest in Frost’s grip. Waiting until the rest of the men vanished, he turned with a questioning look. Although in this lighting, he wasn’t sure if Frost could see it.

“What’s for Christmas dinner?”

Seth slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.

Damn it.

His man was something else.

“We need to pick a place,” Seth said under his breath.

This was to be the year they all got together again as a unit. It had been agreed that every few years, not more than three, they would gather for the Christmas holiday at someone’s house to celebrate.

Last time, it had been at Noah and Mac’s place. Maybe this time, Seth thought, they could have it at his and Frost’s house, but that was a discussion for another day because his husband hadn’t really wanted an answer. The man was very crafty at getting his mind off the danger ahead and focused on the here and now.

This time when Seth took a step forward, Frost let his vest go and they moved through the semidarkness taking out whatever lights the team ahead hadn’t caught.

On second thought, maybe once Rossi settled things with Stefano, the team could go to their home.

Rossi and Stefano had a very nice house.