Mission: Her Protection (Team 52 #1)(51)

She could feel the anger vibrating off Lachlan from the front seat. She sighed. She hated that he was upset and worried, but she had to do this. She had to do her part to help.

They stopped a block from the warehouse and slid out of the SUV. A moment later, Blair, Seth, and Smith appeared from nowhere.

Team 52 moved into formation, moving silently. Rowan found herself surrounded by them, and she tried to move as quietly as they did. She watched Lachlan every time he made a hand signal, his team responding like a well-oiled machine.

They reached the side door of the large warehouse. Smith moved forward. She watched him fiddle with the handle and then, with a nudge of his large shoulder, he broke the door open. They moved inside.

The place was huge. Rowan looked around. Sunlight filtered in from high windows. Rows of shelves filled the space, but unlike the Team 52 warehouse back at the base, this didn’t look orderly. The place was packed with stuff. The shelves were stacked to bursting with an array of odd items. Some were small, and others were huge. As they walked down a row, she took in painted horses, large feathers, scary-looking masks, and other pieces that looked like they definitely belonged on a stage.

She stared at a giant clown’s face and shivered. The place was more than a little creepy.

After another hand signal, Blair, Smith, and Seth peeled off, moving down a different row of shelves. Lachlan, Axel, and Callie stayed with Rowan.

From somewhere deep in the warehouse, she heard a roar.

Oh, God. Lachlan held up a closed fist and they stopped. Rowan peered around him and saw the glint of lights ahead.

Lachlan motioned for them to move cautiously. They crept forward, and ahead, the shelving units ended, giving way to a large, open space at the back of the warehouse. From the shadows, she could see Airman Kowalski covered in chains. Struggling soldiers were trying to get close to her and pry the artifact off her chest.

Aimee threw her head back and roared again.

“Just kill it,” one man muttered. “That should free the device.”

“Or fry it,” another said in accented English. “I do not want to be the one to explain to Ca?d how we destroyed the artifact he wants.”

“Steady,” Lachlan murmured in his earpiece.

He pulled something off his belt. It looked like a small silver ball. He crouched and rolled it across the floor. She caught a brief glimpse of it rolling toward the Legion de Mer men.

Lachlan blocked her view. “Close your eyes.”

Rowan did as ordered. Bang.

“I can’t see!” someone yelled.

“Merde. What the fuck?”

Lachlan tapped her arm. She opened her eyes and peered over his shoulder. A bright light was fading, and several of the Legion soldiers were stumbling around, hands over their eyes.

“Now,” Lachlan ordered. His gold gaze locked on Rowan. “Stay.”

Then he turned and was gone, lifting his weapon. His team fell in behind him. They moved like ghosts—fast, steady, and badass.

Rowan stayed where she was, and watched Lachlan take down one soldier with ease. The rest of Team 52 engaged, slamming into soldiers. Gunfire echoed through the warehouse.

Then, Airman Kowalski cried out.

A soldier, the handsome man she’d fought with outside the Cosmopolitan, was jabbing at Aimee with a knife.

Dammit. Rowan glanced around the space. The rest of the team was busy subduing the soldiers.

Lachlan was going to kill her, but she had no choice. Straightening her shoulders, Rowan crept around the edge of the fight, circling closer to Aimee.

She pulled out the Glock Axel had given her. She snuck up behind the French soldier and pressed the gun to the base of his neck.

“Drop the knife, asshole,” she said.

The man spun, the knife streaking toward Rowan. Shit. Off balance, she still managed to pull the trigger.

With a shout, the man fell back, clutching his thigh.

“I warned you not to test me.” Rowan moved closer to Airman Kowalski. “It’s okay, Aimee.” She touched the chains, looking for a way to unlock them. “We’re going to get you out of here.”

Suddenly, the man she’d shot reared up. He rammed a fist into Rowan’s thigh.

Pain speared through her and her leg collapsed. She sprawled on the floor, the gun flying out of her hand.

Oh, shit. The man landed on top of her. With a grunt, she wrestled with him, trying to get him off her. He aimed a punch at her head, and she dodged the blow. She jammed her fingers into his eyes and he shouted.

Airman Kowalski leaned forward, rattling her chains. She strained against the metal, her muscles bulging.

The chains snapped.

Quickly, Aimee reached out and grabbed the soldier on top of Rowan. She lifted the man up and tossed him.

With a cry, he flew through the air, and slammed into some of the shelves. They toppled over with a crash, slamming into the next row of shelves.

Those shelves toppled, as well. Rowan’s eyes widened. Uh-oh. She watched the chain reaction of loaded shelves crashing like dominos.

A shadow fell over Rowan. She looked up at Aimee towering over her. The woman was still huge and menacing, and clearly enraged and upset. She let out a deafening roar.

Then the out-of-control woman grabbed Rowan with bruising hands.

“Hey, calm down—”

Aimee roared again, shaking Rowan until her teeth rattled.

Then the woman spun and took off running down one of the rows, dragging Rowan behind her.