Blake (Blue Halo Book 3)

Blake Cross moved silently but quickly, his boots barely making a sound as they crushed the fallen leaves and overgrown grass.

It was dark, almost pitch black as he led his team up the mountain. But the dark didn’t affect him. In fact, he welcomed it. Because, just like his team, he had skills that most didn’t. Advanced speed and strength. Above-average hearing and quick healing.

And night vision.

It was why the FBI had assigned this mission to them. Because, for most, it would be impossible.

Travel through the treacherous mountain terrain of Jabal Sawda. Gain access to a heavily guarded, impenetrable compound. And eliminate the Saudi Arabian terrorist, Saleh Ahmad. A man on the FBI’s Most Wanted list. A man, according to FBI intel, planning terrorist attacks on US soil.

The asshole thought the difficulty in accessing his home would discourage visitors. And it did…for most. But Ahmad hadn’t counted on them. Survivors of Project Arma, a US military experiment that had turned men into more than they should be. A team the US government now sent in for off-the-books missions that should be impossible to complete.

Blake didn’t look back at his team. He could hear them right behind him. Aidan, Flynn, Callum, and Tyler. All listening out for any threats. All armed and ready for action.

Wind whipped his face as he moved while branches quietly cracked beneath his feet.

They’d been dropped eighty miles from the compound. For any other person that was a day’s travel, possibly more, considering the dangerous terrain. It had taken them less than a quarter of that time.

The walls surrounding the compound came into view ahead. All five of them slowed before stopping completely. The entrance gate was visible. Two guards, one on each side. Both heavily armed. Even though Blake could see them clearly, right down to the small knives poking out of the bottom of their pants, they wouldn’t see Blake or his team. Not with the dark and the distance.

Blake lifted his hand, signaling for Tyler to take his shot. He was the youngest on the team. He was also the best sniper.

Tyler stepped forward, bending to one knee. Two precision shots, hitting each guard between the eyes in rapid succession. The silencer on the gun made the kills inaudible.

Tyler remained on his knee, gun drawn, as the rest of them moved forward. He would be the eyes on the outside while the others raided the compound.

Even though the walls were solid brick, the gate was made of metal bars. Blake reached them first, using his enhanced strength to easily tug the bars apart before slipping through. Then he moved, keeping close to the wall, strategically avoiding the cameras and knowing the last man in would bend the metal bars back into place.

It wasn’t just the cameras he was trying to avoid. It was also the chance of motion-detecting lights flicking on, alerting anyone inside the compound to their presence.

At the side of the house, Blake grasped a window, pushing it up, easily breaking the lock. He slipped inside first, listening. When there were no heartbeats or footsteps close by, he signaled to his team. One by one, they slipped inside. Silent. Deadly.

A large rectangular table centered the room, a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Expensive-looking art hung from the walls and a large lion statue sat in a corner.

The bastard liked expensive shit.

Quietly, the team worked their way across the room, guns drawn. There’d been no blueprints to study before the mission, and there hadn’t been time to try to acquire any. Not when a bombing was being planned. So they were going in blind.

Another reason his team had been chosen for this.

Blake reached the doorway, scanning a large foyer. Another fucking chandelier. This one larger. And a huge-ass staircase to the left of the space.

Blake moved left, Aidan behind him, with Flynn and Callum going in the opposite direction. He reached a door. About to wrap his fingers around the handle, he paused.

Two heartbeats. Both on the other side. Both moving closer.

Removing his hand, he lifted the gun.

The second the door opened, Blake pulled the trigger.

Headshot. The guard went down.

He searched for the second man, pausing. Not a man.

The dog growled loudly before barking.

That was all it took.

Footsteps rushed from different corners of the house. The rustling of clothes, the whisper of voices. Sounds that normal men wouldn’t be able to hear, but they did. Both a blessing and a curse.

Blake swore under his breath as lights flicked on. At the sight of men at the top of the stairs.

Then the quiet shattered as bullets peppered the air.

Almost in unison, Blake and his men took cover. Blake and Aidan flew into the room that had just been opened, the dog running out. Aidan moved behind a desk, while Blake chose the bookcase.

There was the sound of running. Three men. All headed their way.

Blake made eye contact with Aidan. They waited. Right up until the guards were close to the door. Aidan shot the first guard who stepped into the room, while Blake waited for the second, going for a kill shot between the eyes.

The third guard aimed his weapon, but Blake was right there waiting, throwing an elbow at the guy’s arm, breaking the bone and sending the gun to the floor. He stepped forward, snapping the guy’s neck.

Moving into the foyer, he scanned the area. Flynn and Callum were fighting a handful of men, seconds from killing them. As Aidan joined their teammates, Blake flew up the stairs. Ahmad would know his compound had been infiltrated by now and he would be executing his escape.

Blake couldn’t let that happen.

He opened the first door in the hallway. Nothing. He went to the second, surprising a guy who quickly drew his gun.

Blake shot first, three bullets to the heart.

In the next room, he found another guard, this time shooting him between the eyes.

The fourth door was the master bedroom, he could tell based on the size and the opulence. The sheets were ruffled. He moved closer, touching them. Warm. Someone had been here, and they’d been here very recently.

He moved across the space, entering a large connected bathroom. Nothing. Turning, he was about to leave when light sounds caught his attention.

Pausing, he frowned.

Were they…heartbeats?

Turning, Blake studied the space. Where the hell were they coming from?

A large waterfall shower was positioned to his left, a bathtub in the center of the room, and a vanity to his right. He took another step inside.

The heartbeats grew louder.

What the fuck?

Blake moved closer to the shower, then the vanity, opening the doors, and peering inside. He knocked on the walls, looking for something hollow.

Nothing.

When he stopped beside the tub, his gaze shot down.

This was where the sounds were loudest.

Lowering to his haunches, he noticed the beats grew louder still. Blake touched the side of the tub, giving it a little shake.

Shit. The thing moved in his hand. It wasn’t attached to the ground.

Drawing his weapon, he shifted back, giving the tub a hard kick.

Bullets flew, screams ripping from the dugout beneath the tub and echoing through the tiled room. A bullet hit his shoulder. He barely reacted, aiming his own weapon and shooting the guard, twice in the neck and once in the head.

Then his eyes turned to the woman. She was holding a child in a death grip, limbs trembling as she attempted to shield the child from his view. The kid looked to be seven, maybe eight.

“Please, don’t shoot!” Her words were slow and accented. The tremors in her voice matched those in her limbs.

He recognized them. The FBI had shown the team images of both. Saleh Ahmad’s wife and child.

Blake lowered his weapon. He was about to turn when she spoke again.

“Please don’t leave! We would like political asylum in your country.”

He frowned. He wasn’t in a position to offer that. And there was every chance her request was a ploy.

He scanned her body, noticing the bruises that marred her face, her arms. Red, angry fingerprints marked her cheek from where someone had pressed fingers over her mouth, likely the guard to stop her from screaming.

Then his gaze went to the kid. His heart clenched. She wasn’t much older than his own daughter.

What if this woman and kid were Willow and Mila? He’d want a soldier to save them.

Cursing under his breath, he reached down, helping them out.

Then he heard it. The roar of an engine from above.

Goddammit. The asshole had a helicopter?

He turned to the woman. “How do I get to the roof?”

She continued to hold her daughter tightly, but her eyes steeled as she moved in front of him, running from the room and into the hall. Blake kept his gun raised, ready and prepared to shoot anyone who got in their way.

She took them to what looked to be a small closet, reaching inside and tugging a rope. Stairs released down.

He moved up them quickly, stepping onto the roof just in time to see the helicopter lift into the air.

Drawing his gun, he shot at the engine. The propeller. His bullets barely made a dent in the aircraft as it lifted, moving away.

Fuck. He was too late.

Turning, he saw that the woman and her child stood behind him. Then his team, one by one, joined them on the roof, watching as the helicopter flew away.