Chapter 13
Ford
The strike force Maxim sent consists of seven men and two women in tactical gear, who seem more resigned than thrilled about their assignment.
But then, it's pretty clear to anyone with a brain that this has all the makings of a suicide mission.
We're horrifically outnumbered and our enemy knows their way around the location far better than we do. Even with everything Neezer, the old man Catherine rescued from the dungeon, could remember about the church and an ariel view from a drone, we're going in mostly blind.
We don't know which rooms will be used, which are unstable due to structural decay, how many armed guards they have on wedding duty, or where they'll be keeping Juliet before the ceremony. All we know is that she's in there-our lookout saw her enter the church around five-thirty, accompanied by four of Jean-Paul's many bodyguards-and that the ceremony starts at seven.
Our plan is to move in right before, when they'll hopefully be distracted with getting settled for the start of the service. We'll surround the church, take out as many guards as we can without being noticed, and hope to get to Juliet before she's trapped in the sanctuary with Jean-Paul.
Of course, that's assuming they're planning to have her walk down the aisle.
For all we know, she could already be tied up at the front of the church.
The not knowing is killing me, especially now that I'm close enough to feel Juliet inside the building. I wonder if she can feel me, too? Or if whatever they've done to prevent her from shifting is keeping her from knowing help is near.
"They have to have done something to keep her from shifting," I whisper to Catherine from our hiding place on a sun-drenched roof of another abandoned building just a block from the church. The entire neighborhood has hit on hard times. Most of the businesses appear permanently closed and the one occupied apartment building down the street is the kind of place where people know not to ask questions about drug deals, domestic violence, people streaming into an abandoned church, or anything else. "Otherwise, she would have burned that building to the ground by now."
"I would imagine so," Catherine says, steady and calm as always, even while the minutes tick past and hundreds more Montreal wolves arrive for the ceremony. "But she's tough in both of her forms. As soon as she sees us, she'll be ready to join the fight." "And if they have a collar on her, I'm good with locks. That's why I grabbed that kit from the team," Layla adds from my other side. "If we're not getting shot at, I should be able to get it off in a minute or two. Then, we'll have some serious fire power on our side." "We can cover you while you work on the lock, if necessary," Catherine says, casting a glance toward the strike force members on the other corner of the roof. "No matter what happens, we should focus on protecting each other. I think it would be a mistake to expect anyone else to do it for us."
The strike force has made it clear that, seeing as we're "lacking combat training," they would prefer we wait here for them to retrieve Juliet. But there's no chance in hell of that. Catherine grew up in a war zone, I spent years training to join Zion's army before I was sent to the pits, and Layla is clever, capable, and quick on her feet.
We'll stay out of their way as they do their initial creep-in-and-conquer thing, but as soon as we have the chance, we're headed inside to find our girl.
As if triggered by the ache in my chest, my cell phone begins to vibrate directly over my heart.All content is © N0velDrama.Org.
"Shit, that scared me." Layla flinches and presses a hand to her throat as I drag down the zipper on my bulletproof vest and pull the cell from inside. "I'm so damned jumpy. The last few minutes before go-time are always the worst. At least, that's how it was when I played volleyball in middle school. Rushing in to fight a bunch of bad guys with guns who want to shoot my head off is probably a similar thing, right?"
"It's an update from Hermione. They found him," I say, my heart dropping into my stomach, making the turkey sandwich I forced myself to eat earlier begin to churn. "H ammer."
"And President Benoit?" Catherine asks.
I nod. "Yeah. She's alive. They just showed up at our pack's winter territory in Wyoming. The entire pack was there waiting for them at the ski resort."
Layla makes a worried sound low in her throat. "That doesn't sound good. What do you think that bastard is up to?"
"Well, we're pretty sure he was going to sacrifice President Benoit to make the army at Lost Moon stronger and harder to kill," Catherine says, echoing my thoughts. "Since that didn't work out, maybe he's decided to do what Jean-Paul's trying to do tonight. Sacrifice a shifter with phoenix in her bloodline to make his pack invincible."
"That's the consensus at Lost Moon, too." Another text comes through and my already distressed stomach balls into a rock-hard knot. "It's not just my people at the resort. The San Diego pack is there, too, and they have the second biggest fighting force on the West Coast, right after Los Angeles."
Catherine sighs, Layla cusses, and I text Hermione that I've received the message and will call her to talk next steps as soon as we have Juliet and are on our way back to Lost Moon.
"What's the plan?" Layla asks. "Is Maxim going to send people to stop Hammer before he can kill Juliet's mom and turn his army into super soldiers, or should we start making plans to flee the continent? I've heard Costa Rica is nice."
"I don't know," I say, tucking the phone back into my pocket and zipping up the bulletproof vest. "I told her I'd call her as soon as we have Juliet and are on our way back. Looks like it's go-time." I nod toward the other side of the roof, where the tactical team is moving quicky and quietly to the fire escape on the side of the building and starting their descent.
Layla presses a hand to her stomach. "I think I'm going to be sick."
"Stay here if you need to," I tell her. "If everything goes to shit, you can call Hermione and tell her we didn't make it out. She'll help you get back to campus."
She shakes her curly head, her eyes narrowing in determination as she rises to follow Catherine and I across the roof. "F**k that. I'm not the best shot, but I'm better than nothing. And neither of you goody two-shoes know how to pick a lock as quickly as I can." "I'm actually pretty good with a lock," Catherine says, tucking her long braid down the back of her shirt as we queue up to follow the others down the fire escape. "But I'm glad you're coming. You never know when you're going to need a big, beefy bear to knock down a door or look really cute eating pineapple in the getaway car."
"I figured we'd want snacks after," Layla whispers. "Snacks are always good. Especially after you've burned a bunch of calories knocking bad guy skulls together. And Juliet likes pineapple. I wanted to be sure to have something she likes. Just in case she needs a pick- me-up after...whatever's happened."
"She's okay," I say, suddenly sure of it. I shiver, then lift my arms to see every hair there standing on end as a wave of connection floods through me. "But she's f*****g pissed."
"Same," Layla says, as Catherine murmurs, "Can't blame her."
"No, this is bigger than Jean-Paul or getting kidnapped," I say, fighting to pull in a deeper breath as Juliet's rage and betrayal echoes through my bones. "This is personal. There's someone in there we know. Someone we thought we could trust."
"Which means we trust no one," Catherine says, casting a sharp gaze between us as she swings a leg over the edge of the roof. "Not even if you see a family member or long-lost friend in there. Until we have Juliet, it's just the three of us against the world." Layla agrees and I nod, but I have no clue how quickly my promise is about to be tested.
We've just started around the edge of the church, following closely behind the strike team as they take down the guards positioned outside with martial arts moves and the occasional silenced gunshot, when a familiar voice calls out, "Help me, please! Help, she's trying to kill me!"
I jog forward, reaching a tiny window and peering in to see Juliet and my cousin Bethany fighting for control of a gun on the floor of a tiny bathroom.
But then, I already know Bethany is a traitor.
Thankfully, it looks like Juliet got the memo, too.
I'm about to let her know backup's here when one of Jean-Paul's guards crashes through the bathroom door.