Deadly Game (Fortress Security #5)(83)

“I need a minute with Rowan,” he told Garcia. “Please.”

Impatience crossed the cartel leader’s features. “One minute. Not one second more. Weapon on the floor first.”

He hated to move Rowan from behind the shelter of his body, didn’t have a choice if he had any chance of pulling this off. After placing his weapon on the floor, Brent half turned and brought Rowan to stand in front of him. His gut clenched at the sight of the tears streaming down her pale cheeks. Her tears almost leveled him.

He cradled her beloved face between his palms and placed a tender kiss on her lips. “Trust me,” he whispered against her mouth. He eased his mouth from hers and drew her to the floor with him.

“Locked,” Adam whispered.

Brent wrapped one arm around Rowan and held her tight against his chest. He pressed his mouth to her ear. “Down flat in three.” When she gave a slight nod, he started the countdown. “Now,” he murmured.

A shot rang out from the stairwell. Diego was thrown back against the wall and slid to the floor, leaving a smear of blood behind.

Brent slammed Rowan to the floor as he grabbed his weapon. He shot Garcia through the forehead and double-tapped the man in snake skin boots.

Shouts of alarm and running feet signaled the hacienda’s occupants waking from the ruckus.

Brent scrambled to his feet and yanked Rowan to hers. “Stay behind me, babe.” Grasping her hand, he tugged her to the staircase at a fast clip. Adam led the way down the stairs. Brent followed with Rowan on his heels. Jake protected their six.

As they approached the first floor, rapid gunfire echoed inside and outside the hacienda. Behind them, Jake opened fire. Two men tumbled partway down the stairs. Adam took out another cartel soldier stupid enough to step into the open at the bottom of the stairs.

They met more resistance on the first floor. Brent pressed Rowan against the wall and covered her body with his. He activated his mic. “Is Eli clear?”

“Affirmative,” Jon replied. “Planes are refueled and ready.”

“Copy. We’re bringing Rowan out.”

“Ready.”

“Adam, go.”

The Marine stepped into the corridor and laid down cover fire.

Brent and Jake sandwiched Rowan between them and ran for the exit. Brent took out another cartel soldier running toward them. A shot came from another direction. Brent hissed at the sting from his upper arm.

“Brent?” Rowan pressed tighter to his side.

“I’m fine. Jon.”

“Go,” was the response. Outside, a steady barrage of rifle fire commenced.

Brent and Jake rushed Rowan through the doorway and into the yard. “Trees,” he told Rowan. Movement on his right caught his attention. He released Rowan and pivoted to the three men racing toward him, placing his body between her and the approaching enemy.

Jon took down one with a shot to the heart. The second man tackled Brent while the third went after Adam. Brent’s ribs protested his jarring contact with the hard ground. Gritting his teeth, he focused attention on blocking and countering the wild punches thrown by the man on top of him. The continued punches to the ribs ticked him off.

He bucked his hips, throwing the soldier off balance, and reversed their positions. A solid punch to the throat crushed the man’s windpipe. Brent stripped the man’s gun from his hand and tossed it away.

He checked on Rowan and saw her running into the trees with Jake covering her back, another operative keeping pace beside her. Satisfied she was as safe as possible under the circumstance, he concentrated on protecting his people as they battled Garcia’s men.

One of the PSI trainees went down under the fists of a bruiser cartel member. Brent shifted toward the two. When the cartel soldier nearly choked out the junior operative, Brent executed a roundhouse kick to his head and dragged his unconscious body off the operative.

“Thanks.”

“Focus, Donnelly. Distraction will kill you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Brent activated his mic as he shot another thug racing toward him with his weapon raised. “EOD, report.” Each team reported the explosives were set. Nate Armstrong, Durango’s EOD man confirmed both tunnel entrances and exits were rigged and ready. “Phase 3 in two.” Once his orders had been acknowledged, he returned to the fray, taking out three more of Garcia’s men.

He blew out a breath. The cartel leader must have amassed fifty or sixty men to take on Fortress. Since the heat signatures hadn’t shown on the infrared scope, Brent suspected they’d hidden down in the tunnels. With that many men on the move, the spotters and snipers couldn’t have taken them all out.

The mission clock in his head told him it was time. “Pull back.” His operatives retreated from the house and grounds toward the trees, peppering their opponents with gunfire as they went.

Once his team leaders accounted for their teammates, Brent gave the order to detonate the ordinance. Explosions rocked the hacienda, one on top of the other. Windows exploded outward. Walls crumbled. Parts of the hacienda sank into the ground when the tunnels imploded.

“Rendezvous at the planes,” he murmured and jogged for the tree line. Rowan threw herself into his arms. He wrapped his free arm around her and started moving toward their transportation. “Let’s go home, baby.”

“Alexa?”