Rescued by the SEAL (Black Ops)

I owed some maintenance guy a bottle of fine whiskey because the door slid open soundlessly. We crept in and found ourselves in a large, open space, but the only light was coming from the high windows. It cast shadows everywhere, but the space felt empty.

My stomach flipped at the possibility that Cora might not be here. Deacon distracted me from my thoughts when he began to cross the room. I stayed on his six and protected his back. Once we were on the other side, he released the catch on the other door and opened it to let Cash and Stirling into the building.

Cash’s eyes did a sweep of the place, then he pointed his rifle to the left, and I lifted my chin in acknowledgment. Stirling and Deacon echoed the motion but in two other directions. We split up and silently explored the room. I almost missed it, but when I reached one corner, I spotted a crack in the metal wall and realized it was a shoddy, makeshift door. I leaned in and closed my eyes, listening for any sound. It was so soft, I almost missed it. The shuffling of shoes on the concrete floor. I assumed the person was pacing from the way they faded, then got louder before fading again. I stepped out of the shadow and waved down the boys to hurry over.

With hand signals, I told them to cover me and I was going in. Cash, Stirling, and I trained our guns on the door while Deacon wrapped a hand around the knob and held up three fingers. When he dropped the last one, he yanked open the door, and I rushed inside, followed closely by the others. A man with greasy black hair and a face that had clearly been in one too many fistfights whirled around in shock. Brick house. I trained my eyes on him and didn’t look around, knowing that I needed to keep my focus on this piece of shit before Cora distracted me.

“Drop it,” I demanded, using the barrel of my gun to indicate his weapon. He looked like he might argue at first but seemed to quickly realize he was outmanned and outgunned. His gun fell from his hands and hit the floor with a clang.

“Where’s your partner?” Cash asked coolly.

“Dead.” His expression remained blank, his eyes devoid of emotion, obviously not regretting his actions for a second.

A small whimper reached my ears, and I whirled toward it to see Cora curled up in a corner, duct tape on her ankles, wrists, and mouth. I took one step toward her, and her eyes flicked over my right shoulder with fear. I flipped around, gun raised, and put two bullets in the brick house.

A hand came down on my shoulder, and I nearly took Stirling’s head off. “Relax, man. We’re going to do a sweep and make sure we’re all clear.” I nodded, knowing it needed to be done but loathing to leave Cora for even one second. I made a move toward the door, but he pulled me to a stop. “Take care of your girl.”

5

Cora

When Jack had shoved me into a corner, I’d started to worry that Huntley wouldn’t get the chance to rescue me. There had been no way for me to catch my fall. Not after he had wrapped so much duct tape around my wrists that you couldn’t see the rope underneath and followed that up with circling it around my ankles and slapping a strip over my mouth. And he hadn’t been careful with how much force he’d used, either—barely sparing me a glance when I cried out. He’d ignored me, pacing back and forth while muttering beneath his breath about how wrong his plan had gone. After warning his now-dead partner about Huntley’s threat earlier, he didn’t seem too worried about me getting hurt, and I figured that didn’t bode well for my safety.

I was starting to doubt that I’d make it out of this warehouse alive when Huntley showed up with a few other guys. And then I was afraid Jack would kill him instead when he’d turned to look at me, but in the end, everything turned out okay. I’d never have to worry about the hulking guy who would’ve been more than happy to kill me because Jack was the one who died instead.

Tears of relief streamed down my cheeks as Huntley prowled toward me. After dropping to his knees, he set his rifle on the floor to his left and carefully removed the duct tape from over my mouth. He was still gently tugging strands of my hair from the adhesive—since Jack had gone overboard and wrapped it all the way around my head—when I gasped, “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”