A retort from a gun cracked and a bullet hit the railing of the stairs, sending sparks flying. He ducked and returned fire. When the suspect ran, he lunged down the stairs after the guy.
Gunfire broke out in the rest of the compound. The Chambers brothers had to know they were there.
The jig was up.
Isaac
Tat, tat, tat.
Gunfire swept through the building followed by cursing and shouting.
Zane put one in the guy firing at them and the guy dropped.
He jumped down the stairs and leaped over the dead suspect, dodging into the large room at the bottom with Zane on his six. The rickety wood floor creaked and groaned beneath their feet.
“There’s probably a lower level somewhere,” he gritted out, flipping on his light to find his way.
Bullets suddenly pinged the door. He turned his head as wood chips flew and he grimaced.
“Move!” Zane growled and shoved him forward.
“I can’t, there’s nowhere to go!”
“This way.” Zane took off around a stack of boxes
He flipped off his light as he followed Zane, cutting in and around large boxes and stacked crates.
Several pair of feet pounded down the stairs and when he peeked back the way they’d come, several dark figures spilled into the far side of the room. It was too far for him to hear the conversation, but there was no missing the weapons they held.
They were way out numbered. Well, shit.
“Alpha, you copy?” Zane whispered.
“Copy, Bravo, what’s your position?” Maddox’s breath came quickly, as if he were running.
“Down the stairs on the west side. Looks to be about ten to fifteen suspects down here.”
“Can you find your way out and meet us?”
“No,” Zane whispered.
“Wait a minute, I found a way,” Isaac hissed, pulling the cover off an old grain chute. What the hell it was used for here, he didn’t know, but he was glad for it. The sloping chute was big enough to fit a man even Zane’s size.
Hefting his rifle over one shoulder, he climbed up on the edge.
“What are you doing?” Zane hissed at him.
“I’m finding a way out so we can meet up with Maddox.”
“I’m not getting in there.” Zane scowled at the chute.
“Just get in.” Isaac climbed in.
“No.”
“Get in!” he hissed.
“Damn it,” Zane grumbled, then he climbed over the edge of the rickety chute and swung his legs around so he was laying on his back.
Isaac didn’t give Zane time to think but instead, pushed him and followed him down.
“Ack!”
Isaac cackled when Zane went flying down the chute, arms waving. The slide to the bottom was quick and he landed on top of Zane, who was sprawled out on a wooden platform.
Out of breath, he lay there. Zane was breathing hard, but made no move to get up or lift him off.
“You did that on purpose,” Zane grumbled.
He lifted his head and grinned. “I did.”
“Where are we?” Zane craned his head to the side.
The putrid aroma of rot and old food clung to the air and he tugged up the bandana he wore around his neck.
“Gonna move?”
Zane’s hands had moved to his hips.
“I’m thinking about it.” He wiggled.
Zane huffed a strangled snort when he finally rolled off and got to his feet. Stepping off the small platform, he found himself standing in two feet of garbage and pushed through it toward a door at the end of the small enclosure.
“I don’t even want to know what this shit is.” Zane sloshed behind him.
Isaac broke the lock on the door and eased it open. A garage with a hidden dock beneath the warehouse lay in front of them. A few boats and Jet skis sat tethered, floating in swamp water.
Engines roared through the air, and then three men on jet skis flew out from a second section of the garage.
“Shit!” Zane snapped, running after the perps to fire off a shot. He shot one and the suspect flew off the jet ski and landed with a splash.
Isaac ran to the second garage, frantically searching until he spotted the open metal box near the door. Keys hung off small hooks and he grabbed one of the last two sets and took a chance. Leaping onto the nearest jet ski, he was in luck when it fired up. Curling forward, he gunned it.
“You better stop,” Zane’s growl came through the mic.
He grinned hearing the panic and order in Zane’s voice thinking he wouldn’t stop.
In a spray of water, he slowed enough for Zane to jump on behind him and then he gunned it after the remaining two suspects.
Zane’s arms came around his waist and hung on tight as he floored the jet ski through the tree and branch ladened swamp. After a moment, Zane lifted his weapon and took a shot at the jet ski closest to them. He hit a few trees, but not the suspect.
“Dispatch!” he shouted into the mic over the wind and engine noise. “We’re after two suspects on jet skis.”
“Roger, Bravo.”
“We found the hidden door and a few suspects were apprehended,” Maddox said. “Echo team, report.”
“Kitchen, dining room, and den are clear,” Greene responded.
“Send the drone after Bravo,” Maddox ordered Sam.
“Copy that, Alpha team,” dispatch replied.
Isaac took a hard corner and Zane tightened his one-armed hold around his waist. It would be a bummer if Zane toppled off the jet ski.
“Hang on!” he shouted when a low set of branches quickly came up. He leaned forward, and Zane lowered against his back, tightening his arms. Twisting the throttle, he gunned it beneath the low branches and out the other side. One snagged Zane’s vest, he felt the tug, but Zane’s arms clenched tight and the wood gave way. Then they were clear and he picked back up the speed he’d lost.
Ahead, he spotted both suspects and pointed. Zane lifted his weapon and sent a round of bullets. This time, he hit one and the suspect toppled off the jet ski with a crash to the water as the
