Chapter Fourteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Harris

Apollo and Griffin decided to come along on their stakeout of the new two-story brick residence. The tequila had been delivered yesterday, and they were busy attempting to get visual confirmation of Soloman’s presence in the dwelling. A second man answered the door when the delivery driver arrived, and as of yet, they hadn’t seen anyone else in the building.

Woodley was back to one hundred percent and was currently stationed at the northeast corner of the property under the porch floorboards of an abandoned house. Harris felt at odds with his lover’s return to the field. He was having a hard time erasing the image of Woodley slumped over with a bullet hole in his back.

“ I’ll be pissed if this is another dead end,” Harris said. “Could there be another dude this close to the bar with a taste for large quantities of high-end tequila?”

“ You should know more than most that anything is possible,” Apollo said across the comms.

It was still weird having outsiders on their mission, but if it led to shutting down these assholes, Harris could tolerate it. Perhaps it was his inability to trust anyone outside their immediate crew, but either way, it felt odd.

“ We have movement,” Gunner said from his perch in a nearby oak tree. “Two individuals.”

Harris looked through his night vision binoculars to attempt to identify the subjects. He zeroed in on the driveway as a four-door Chrysler pulled out from behind the house. He gave the car a few seconds to clear the hedge, but Harris's mood improved as soon as it did.

“ Confirmed. Soloman is in the driver’s seat. The second person who took delivery of the alcohol is in the passenger seat.”

“ Yesss,” Stryker cheered. “Things are finally looking up.”

“ I’ll let the boss know,” Gunner said.

With any luck, they’d get a look inside that house tonight. He only hoped the wait was worth it.

“ It’s a go,” Gunner said. “Drone is airborne.”

They sent in one of Spencer’s drones with specialized equipment to detect any heat signatures in the residence and surrounding area. Each team member had a receiver placed on their gear, giving them a different heat signature than any possible target.

They waited for the area to be swept. Harris was anxious to get the show on the road. The sooner they got a read on Soloman, the sooner they could get the main mission on the road and shut these fuckers down.

“ Area is clear. We’re a go to breach the residence,” Gunner announced.

“ About time,” Harris grumbled. “Let’s go see what this fucker is hiding.”

Harris, Stryker, Woodley, Apollo, and Griffin would go in while Gunner kept an eye out for Soloman’s return. Other team members were still watching the bar and waiting for the guy’s arrival. The tracker they’d placed on the vehicle was coming in loud and clear, confirming that they were headed in the bar’s direction.

Harris scanned the area before making his way across the manicured yard, carefully remaining as close to the shadows as possible. The team was wary of setting off any alarms, but found none.

Overconfident fucker.

The team converged on the back door and checked it for a security system before Woodley picked the lock with well-honed precision. While outside, they worked in absolute silence to avoid rousing a neighbor’s attention. Each wore body cameras feeding back to the rental for the entire team to analyze.

Once inside, the first room they came to was the kitchen. Though it appeared neat and tidy, it seemed empty of homey touches, and a putrid smell came from somewhere inside the house.

“ What the hell stinks?” Griffin asked.

“ I don’t know. It appears the tequila box has already been cracked,” Woodley said while pointing to an opened box set in the corner by the refrigerator. “That didn’t take long. Looks like two bottles are missing.”

“ Found one empty in the recycling,” Apollo said from the other side of the kitchen.

“ Nice to know the assholes are environmentally conscious,” Harris said. “But they couldn’t give a rat’s ass for the people living in it.”

“ Okay, let’s spread out and make this quick,” Stryker ordered. “Though I’d like to have a face-to-face with this asshole, that’ll have to be another time. Recon only.”

“ Soloman and the second man have arrived at the bar,” Gunner announced over the comms. “Conor will let us know when they make a move. Also, point of interest, the dude with Soloman has some abilities, according to Conor.”

“ I wondered,” Apollo said. “I was a bit too far away, but something stood out about the guy.”

“ Why would a survivor work for the enemy?” Woodley asked. “That shit doesn’t make sense.”

“ We’ll have to ask him,” Harris growled.

“ At least we know where they are,” Stryker said. “Let’s move.”

“ Man, they need to crack a window and air this place out and get some air fresheners,” Woodley said. “This is disgusting.”

Harris and Woodley headed to the living room while Stryker, Apollo, and Griffin headed down the hall to the stairs leading to the second level, and the bedrooms. The living room had a single recliner positioned in front of a television set.

“ Where the hell does the second dude sit?” Woodley asked. “The floor?”

“ By the looks of things, yes, or maybe he stays in his bedroom,” Harris suggested.

They looked through the small table set beside the chair. Other than the remoteand some bills, which Woodley took a picture of to record the name Soloman was using in New Orleans, there was a single empty glass that smelled of tequila sitting in the cupholder attached to the chair. It was convenient that a half-empty Jose Cuervo Reserva De La Familia bottle sat on the floor; he wouldn’t have to get up for a refill. That liquor was over two hundred dollars a bottle. You’d think it deserved to be on the table.

“ Nothing here,” Harris announced to Woodley and the rest of the team through the comms.

Woodley stood staring at the large hutch containing the television. It stood roughly seven feet tall and at least six feet wide. The shelves held miscellaneous knickknacks, a few books on genetics—go figure—and three packages of unopened copy paper.

“ What are you thinking?” Harris asked Woodley.

“ I feel a breeze coming from behind that,” Woodley said, pointing at the hutch.

Harris bent and held his hand along the hardwood floor, and sure enough, he felt a cold breeze coming from behind the hutch.

“ Could be an air vent,” Harris said as he tried to look under the monstrous piece of lumber.

“ Only one way to find out,” Woodley said.

Harris stood in front of the hutch and Woodley stood to the other side.

“ On the count of three,” Woodley said. “One. Two. Three.”

Harris concentrated and used his powers to lift the piece of furniture without much effort, careful not to break anything or leave scrape marks on the hardwood as Woodley directed it a couple feet away from the wall so they could fit behind it, but it wasn’t a wall they found.

“ Well, look at that,” Harris said. “A door.”

“ Someone doesn’t want us to look in there,” Woodley huffed.

“ There must be a basement, but I didn’t notice any windows on the house’s exterior,” Harris said.

“ They went to some trouble hiding it. It would be rude of us not to have a look around.” Woodley grinned.

“ Hell no, we wouldn’t want to be rude,” Harris chuckled.

Woodley stepped forward as Harris pulled out his Glock. Not knowing what was behind the door, he felt it better to be prepared than dead, heat signatures or not. Woodley turned the knob and flung it open, giving Harris an unobstructed shot at anything that might jump out.

Turns out there was nothing other than stairs heading into a darkened room below. He didn’t bother turning on a light; it might attract attention, so he flipped his night vision goggles down from the rim of his specially designed baseball hat. Woodley did the same.

He moved forward with Woodley at his back, taking one step at a time, gun at the ready. When they reached the bottom and scanned the first room, it became apparent they were standing in a lab of some sort. Shit.

“ I don’t like the looks of this,” Woodley said. “It gives me the creeps.”

“ Neither do I,” Harris agreed.

“ Whatcha got,” Stryker asked over the comms from the second story.

“ A hidden basement with computers, machines, test tubes, and other shit. At least here in the first room. There’s another door on the far wall,” Harris said.

“ We’re on our way,” Stryker stated.

Woodley took the lead as they made their way toward the shut door. When he tried to turn the knob, it wouldn’t budge.

“ Locked.”

Woodley took out his lock-picking tools and went to work. Harris could hear footsteps coming down the stairs and turned to confirm it was the rest of their team. As he did, the locked door clicked and opened.

“ Oh shit,” Woodley said, and Harris quickly turned around to take a look inside as the stench intensified.

On a table near the back of the room lay what appeared to be a body covered by a dark sheet. This recon was going south fast.

***

Woodley

“ I think we might have found Robin,” Woodley whispered without stepping into the room.

The air around them was electrified as Apollo and Griffin stepped past Harris and himself. It didn’t feel right entering the room until the other two had a chance to identify who was under the sheet.

The entire team would be watching their monitors and knew everyone was hoping this wasn’t Apollo’s missing team member. Though the odds were not in their favor. Knots were forming in Woodley’s stomach, and he noticed Harris moving closer to his side. This was the worst-case scenario, a result they worked tirelessly to avoid.

Apollo reached for the edge of the sheet, Griffin at his side. No one spoke. What the hell was there to say? The room wasn’t large, so Woodley could see the man lying underneath when he removed the sheet. From the picture he’d been shown, it was indeed Robin; by the looks of things, he’d been dead for quite some time.

His lips had been sewn shut, likely to stop him from speaking and using his power of suggestion. Bastards. There was nothing else in the room except a folding chair.

Woodley stepped back into the lab portion of the basement, wanting to give Apollo and Griffin some time alone. Harris and Stryker followed him, and the three began searching the drawers and cupboards for anything they could use. As they came across paperwork, pictures were taken to be reviewed later. They didn’t want to be here too long.

After a few minutes, Apollo and Griffin returned from the room, relocking the door as they did so as not to give their visit away. Apollo’s eyes flashed with electric blue streaks, and Griffin’s hands were glowing like they had back in the junkyard when he thought they were being attacked. Woodley noticed the tips of sharp canine teeth peeking out from under Griffin’s top lip for the first time. Now wasn’t the time to ask questions.

“ Are we done here?” Apollo asked.

“ Yes. We’ve covered every inch of the lab,” Harris said.

“ I’m sorry about your friend,” Woodley said. “This isn’t the way we’d hoped this to end.”

“ Neither did we,” Griffin said. “Thank you. However, this isn’t the end. It’s the beginning of bringing the nightmare this group has created back to their doorsteps. None of those bastards will be walking away from this.”

“ Understood,” Harris said. “You have us by your side.”

Apollo nodded before heading back to the stairs. They replaced the hutch and relocked the kitchen door. Within minutes, the five left Soloman’s house and returned to their SUV. Gunner met them at their vehicle; the look of anger on his face mirrored their own. Soloman and his cohorts were going to pay. They had no idea the hell they’d brought down upon themselves. They'd know soon enough.