Wicked as Lies (Wicked & Devoted #3) - Shayla Black Page 0,60

nearest teammate will help. Everyone else will continue the search for Laila. She promised to stay close to One-Mile, so hopefully they can be extracted together. If we need to buy more time, I’ll radio Zy to light up the next target, a…” He scowled. “What is it, Garrett?”

“Generator station. But once I hit it, everything will go dark.” And more chaos would ensue.

“So let’s try not to need it,” Logan put in. “Any questions?”

The group shook their head.

“Zy will be waiting in the chopper at the extraction point to the east. Like Dad said, he’ll have the backup position by this bridge on the side of the road. Joaquin has greased the appropriate palms and cleared our path out, so let’s do this right. And don’t get dead.”

If that was Logan’s idea of a joke, it was lousy. But no one said a word as Zy hopped out and the van sped off. Behind some brush, he approached the remote fuel station. Montilla and his boys must be pretty smug, because the only security they had out here was a chain-link fence, a padlock, and a sign in Español that told people this was private property and to keep the fuck out.

With a shrug, Zy ducked through the hole he’d cut earlier, then checked all the C4 he’d put in place. Everything was ready to go.

After squirming back through the enclosure, he clambered across the wilderness toward the power station, arcing around the compound and tucking behind the scrub, just in case some jack hole with binoculars had eagle eyes. But his clock was ticking. Caleb would be dumping everyone else in the van off in about two minutes, and he couldn’t leave them like a guy at a party with his dick dangling.

He got a little help from more winds that kicked up and allowed him to haul ass the last few hundred yards in a swirl of dust. The remote power site was even less protected, so double-checking his work here took about fifteen seconds.

Zy withdrew his radio. “I’m a go.”

“Copy that,” Logan affirmed. “We’re in position. Do it.”

Despite all the problems and all the shit, Zy pushed the button and watched the remote fuel dump explode with a grin. The sight gave him a sick pleasure that made him feel a little like a four-year-old, but the power of the blast and the resulting destruction awed him. It was a force of nature he could create and harness. And after the fire finished blazing, only ashes remained—from which something new and better could rise.

At least in the best of circumstances. Sometimes, he really did just burn shit to the ground.

It didn’t take long for Montilla’s men to start pouring out the west side of the compound to investigate, only to be brought short by the wall of flames that carried the pungent smell of diesel.

Then came another resounding boom, followed by a plume of fire. Zy felt the singeing heat even from a few hundred yards away.

He watched the team slink into the compound on their bellies, seemingly unnoticed by Montilla’s goons. None of them shouted warnings or fired at the team or gave any indication that they’d been discovered.

With a mental pat on the back, Zy fled his hiding place and started hauling ass across the landscape to the adjacent rancher’s property. Apparently, the old man had been happy to take some American greenbacks to store the team’s equipment for a few hours.

Zy was winded by the time he reached the edge of the property and fired up the chopper. Getting it in the air was a breeze, and he was starting to worry this rescue was going too well. Or had their luck finally fucking turned around?

Now was the part he dreaded most, the hurry up and wait for the others, to see if they’d achieved the mission objective and made it out alive…or not.

Suddenly, his radio crackled with static, followed by a shout. “We’re coming in hot!”

Hunter. Zy sat up as he put the chopper on the ground in the designated spot and flung the side open. Sure enough, here they came.

Logan led the way. Behind him, Cutter ran, carrying a dark figure fireman-style over his left shoulder. It must be One-Mile with his ass in the air because he was shooting at Montilla’s heavies, now running after them—at least until he suddenly dropped the gun and fell limp.

Worry gripped Zy by the throat as Hunter shouted something, scooped up the weapon, and