Silver Fire (Guardians) (38 page)

When Sophie remained silent, Morgan sighed. “Look, I’ll see what I can find out. Damn it! My life was much simpler before you and your friend came along.” He paused. “You’re making me grow a fucking conscience.”

Sophie grinned.

He smiled back. “So are you guys just going to storm his compound? It’s heavily guarded you know.”

Sophie fidgeted nervously. “I really need to be heading back. They might be looking for me.”

As Morgan reached out as if to stop her, a furious voice reverberated through the alleyway. “Stay the fuck away from her!”

All Sophie saw was a blur as Derek knocked Morgan off his feet.
 

“Derek, stop!” Sophie screamed as Derek straddled the big man and pummeled his face. Against her better judgment, she moved to stop them but was held back by Quint, who had arrived with Derek.

“Daniel, you have to stop them,” Sophie pleaded. She flinched when Morgan threw Derek off him. The two men scrambled to their feet and circled each other before they started swinging again in an all-out brawl. Sophie knew Derek was formidable, but Morgan was built like a professional wrestler, and she did not want to find out who was the bigger badass.

“Let your man get it out of his system,” Quint murmured into her ear.
 

What? Are these men insane?
Sophie watched in horror as Morgan’s ham-sized fist headed straight for Derek’s jaw. Her man deftly ducked his head under Morgan’s arm and planted a solid punch into his gut. The big guy grunted but linked both hands and pounded a blow on Derek’s back before raising his knee to finish him off. Derek crossed his arms in time to deflect Morgan’s move and staggered back.
 

Sophie renewed her struggle against Quint. Despite Morgan’s advantage in size and strength, she knew Derek’s speed made him an even match against his hulking opponent, but all signs indicated that this would not end well if no one stopped it.

“What the hell?” Marissa’s voice echoed in the alley. Manning was with her. “Quint. Break them up!”
 

Quint stared at Marissa as if she’d lost her mind. Stan Morgan was bigger than Manning, who was their largest commando, and Derek had totally lost it—it would be like containing a rabid pit bull.

“We can’t have Lockwood limping on the mission tonight. Break it up,” Marissa repeated.

Quint sighed, releasing Sophie and nodding to two other commandos who had appeared at the alley with Manning.
 

By this time, Derek was bleeding from a cut near his eye, and Morgan was not faring any better. Both men were breathing hard, exchanging and blocking jabs or wrestling and shoving each other against the walls of the alley. Quint timed his move and grabbed Derek under his arm, palm pressing against the back of his neck to lock him in a half-nelson just as Manning positioned himself in front of Stan Morgan to prevent him from going after a restrained Derek.
 

“I’m fucking gonna kill you!” Derek shouted angrily, trying to shake off Quint and one other commando who had joined in to contain him.

“Stop heaping the blame on me, Lockwood,” Morgan responded in a calm voice. “You’re feeling guilty because you valued going to a fucking fundraiser more than the safety of your woman—”

“You drugged me, asshole—”

“You put yourself in that position—”

“Fucking piece of shit!” Derek snarled, managing to break free from the men holding him back.

Sophie launched herself in front of Derek but not before casting a glare at a smirking Quint.
 

“Derek, enough!” Sophie yelled.

Derek stopped abruptly, staring at her with a furious look on his face. “What the fuck, Sophie?”

“Stop,” Sophie said. “Morgan helped me escape from Justin.”

Sophie had never seen Derek act so savagely yet she instinctively laid a reassuring hand on his chest. “We have bigger problems, Derek. I need you to let this go.”

He stared at her for a few seconds before turning away, gripping his head in his hands in frustration. “Fuck!” he swore. He prowled the width of the alley like a caged tiger.

Morgan backed away and prepared to leave, but Marissa and Edmunds blocked him.
 
Quint, Lockwood, and Manning and other commandos were up the other way. He was trapped.

“We can’t let you leave,” Marissa said.
 

Morgan sighed, his massive shoulders slumping. “Yeah, I figured as much.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Derek glanced at Sophie, who was busy fidgeting with the hem of her blouse. Marissa had chewed her out severely for getting “made” on her first outing as a CIA asset. The other guys had been sniggering about it, and Derek himself found it amusing after the fact, but since the infraction reflected on her handler, Marissa was understandably pissed off. He was relieved that the incident in the alley had not attracted outside attention. He let his emotions overrule his better judgment. Derek flexed his jaw and winced at the sting of the bruise above his cheekbone. If anything positive had come out from his brawl with Morgan, it was enabling him to take that first step to overcoming his guilt about Sophie’s abduction. Morgan was right. It still ate at him that someone took her from him and that Derek could have prevented it if he had just stayed with her that night. But to have something—or in this case—someone tangible to vent his anger on still provided some sort of fucked-up therapy.

He turned his attention back to Quint, who was explaining the team division. There were six men guarding the compound at night, but they suspected a total of twenty security personnel were on site.

“Original play book and team assignments will be in effect,” Quint said. “Edmunds will lead the team over the wall. That will be our main offensive and the goal is to quickly subdue the guards without triggering the alarm at SASTac. The last man over the wall will unlock the back gate so the rest of the team can follow through.”

“You all have the map of the compound. We search the main warehouse first. Cortez, Chen, and Dr. Leroux are our specialists. There should be a protective circle around them at all times.”

“I told you before, Lt. Quint, I can take care of myself,” Chen spoke up.
 

“Understood. Nevertheless, you will be protected,” Quint said. Shifting his attention back to the room, he said, “We’re up against very experienced
 
hostiles. Most of Stolz’s men are ex-military and have been known to be ruthless based on how they have been dealing with the locals. Do not ever underestimate them. You shoot them, make sure they’re dead. Ms. Cole?”

Marissa took over the floor. “We’ll be moving within the next few hours. Two transports. We’ll be parked a mile up from the compound and will make tracks to the northwest wall. We’ll maintain radio silence until the first breach. Hand signals only.”

The rest of the meeting was a re-hash of the initial playbook. After the briefing broke up, the team was handed their gear. Sophie looked balefully at the big duffle bag in front of her.
 

“Not what you signed up for, baby?” Derek teased.

“Shut up.” Sophie scrunched her nose. “Maia prepared me well. She said my groupings were pretty good, even during tactical exercises I managed to hit the targets.”

“Remind me not to piss you off.”

“Ha. Ha. Believe me, I won’t shoot you, I’ll just use my katana.”

That made Derek wince. “Vicious little thing, aren’t you? Whatever made me think you were as meek as a lamb?”

“My guileless eyes, maybe?” Sophie quipped. Derek chuckled, and dragged her to his side, planting a kiss on top of her head. After the experience with Justin Bishop, he had noticed a change in Sophie’s eyes. Gone was the vulnerability; in its place was a certain hardness that only the experience of fighting for your life could bring. Though he regretted the loss of that innocence in her, it brought her closer to the way of life he had led. Maybe the disparity in their world would reach a point of equilibrium.

“Keep the mushies for later,” Edmunds ragged Derek as the Guardian passed them.

“Fuck off, Edmunds,” Derek shot back good-naturedly.

“Oh my god,” Sophie whispered as the men started chucking their clothes and changing into their gear.
 

“Fuck,” Derek muttered as he tried to usher Sophie into another room. But she held her ground. “Marissa’s changing her clothes right here. I don’t want any special treatment.”

“I don’t want other men seeing what’s mine,” he whispered fiercely.

“Derek, I like you’re all caveman and all, but it’s nothing less than when I’m wearing a two-piece swimsuit.”

“Sophie—”

“Derek —”

“Fine!”
 

As Sophie started stripping out of her clothes, he did the same. Every now and then he would catch one of the commandos look over her appreciatively. Derek would make sure he’d catch the guy’s gaze and glare him off.
 

“So how do I look?” she asked after she got all suited up. Black cargos, combat boots, long-sleeved black t-shirt and a slim-fitting Kevlar vest; she was smoking.
 

“Sexy as hell,” Derek muttered.

***

After a couple of hours cooling their heels in the back room by cleaning their weapons, playing cards and just ribbing each other, Marissa got the signal for them to leave. Showtime.

Sophie gathered her hair in a low ponytail and put on a protective helmet.
 

Derek affectionately adjusted her headgear and gave her a light tap on the nose. “Stay with me, Angel. Tight as a tick. We do not get separated. You get me?”

Two troop trucks, outfitted in dark canvas cover, were waiting in the back alley of the bar. Derek and Sophie got in the second truck. With them were Lt. Chen—the bomb expert, Leo Cortez—the lock expert, Marissa Cole and four other commandos. Lt. Quint and seven other commandos were in the first truck. The driver took the back streets, which were surprisingly quiet despite the festival that was happening a few blocks over. Of course it was also 1:00 a.m. in the morning and everyone was probably already drunk or passed out somewhere. Sophie noticed they never got on the main highway and traveled mostly with the headlights off—she guessed, so as not to draw attention.

Even though she felt wired, she realized that she had fallen asleep on Derek’s shoulder. She knew this because someone was shaking her and the drowsing effect of the truck movement had ceased. “Sophie, we’re here,” Derek murmured into her ears.
 

The trucks had parked on a secluded dirt road. Quint took out a GPS device. They would have to cut through a wooded area to get to the targeted wall of the SASTac compound.
 

 
“Tight as a tick,” Derek reminded her. Everyone, except Cortez and Sophie, shouldered their assault rifles. Sophie made sure she could pull out her 9mm quickly when she needed it. Maia had repeatedly taught her how to draw from a holster effectively.

They trudged through some heavy woodland, the loamy scent of the earth a vast contrast to the sterile smell of her lab. They kept to a meandering dirt path and avoided the crunch of dead leaves under the cover of huge trees. Everyone was wearing their night vision goggles and several, including Derek, were already familiar with the lay of the land from their recon the day before. Sensing pairs of eyes watching her, Sophie looked around nervously and spied several luminous orbs belonging to creatures of the night following their group. She hastened closer to Derek.
 

At the edge of the clearing, Quint cocked his right arm, hand in a fist, instructing everyone to stop. The first team gathered at the front of the line, Sophie spied the steel back door that was their portal of entry. Edmunds took over and gave the signal for the initial strike team to proceed. The first man shot two high-tension cables with titanium prongs into the wall. One was used to climb, the other was used to rappel down. In no time at all, the men scaled the walls like spiders.
 

Tense minutes later, the steel entrance opened; screaming on its hinges, it would be a wonder if the whole compound wasn’t roused. Quint led the second team through the gate—Derek was in front of Sophie, Manning to her rear. A racket of gunfire exchange exploded just as Sophie cleared the gate.
 

Derek immediately pulled her down in a crouch and shielded her. They’d resumed comms after the first team had gone through, and she could hear an eruption of chatter.
 

“Brace! We’ve got incoming hostiles,” Edmunds shouted.
 

“How many hostiles down?”

“Three.”

“Everyone OK?”

“Are we clear to proceed?” Quint asked.

“Affirmative. The hostiles are out front, we’re holding them off for now.”

The second team immediately sprung from their position and hauled ass toward the main warehouse.

Suddenly, bright lights illuminated the courtyard, blinding their night vision goggles.

A collective burst of cursing blistered Sophie’s ears. She flicked her goggles up, stumbling slightly as she tried to readjust her vision. She was seeing stars, literally. She felt someone grip her arm. “Steady, Sophie.”

“I can’t see well, Derek.”
 

“You’ll be fine in a—”

Bullets kicked up divots of dirt around them. Someone grunted and hit the deck. One of the commandos was hit!
 

Sophie’s heart was pounding so hard in her chest and she would have just stupidly stood there if Derek had not yanked her to his right side and hauled her forward. With his left arm, he braced his assault rifle to his side, returning rounds in the direction of their attackers.

Rapid chatter erupted again on their communication network. Sophie couldn’t tell who was talking.

“Move it, Quint. You guys are sitting ducks!”

“Can’t hold them back for much longer—”

“You yahoos need to run like hell—”

“Fuck! Man down!”

“Who got hit?”

“Hostiles to our six. Motherfuck—”

“Warehouse is clear.”

“Haul ass, people!” Marissa ordered. Through the fiery exchange, Sophie noticed with relief that the commando that got hit was being helped along by Manning. They reached the wall of the warehouse and managed to take cover for a minute.