* * * * *
Half an hour later, Littleton, Colorado…
The black van driven by Brick, Tack in the passenger seat, Dog, Hound, High, Boz, Shy and Hop in back rolled up and parked behind the SUV.
Tack got out instantly and walked to the front of the van, rounded it, moved to the curb and saw Lawson standing shielded from the house by the SUV.
“Jesus, are you insane?” Lawson clipped.
“They in there?” Tack asked.
“Broad daylight, Tack, they might have seen you.”
“They. In. There?” Tack bit off, leaning in.
Lawson sucked in breath then ran it down. “Backup’s here. Far’s we know, they don’t know we’re here. Or they didn’t until you showed. We’ve called SWAT. They’re ten minutes out.”
“Then they’re in there,” Tack stated, that burn he’d locked down beginning to rage out of control.
His Red was close. A street and a yard away.
“Slim has gone in for a closer look.”
“Not waitin’ for SWAT,” Tack declared, turned and jerked up his chin at his men who were huddling at the side of the van opposite the house where Tyra was.
He stopped when Lawson clamped a hand on his shoulder and forcibly jerked him around.
Tack locked eyes with Lawson and warned, “Not a good time to touch me, man.”
“Be smart, Tack,” Lawson said quietly. “Tactical gets here, I promise, we’ll get her out.”
“They’ve had her six hours. I’m not makin’ her wait longer,” Tack fired back.
“Shit goes down, Tyra could get hit in the crossfire.”
“My boys know to aim only at the shooters.”
Lawson gave him a glare and muttered, “Fuck, Kane Allen, expect the unexpected.”
“I’m with you.”
This came from beyond Lawson and Tack looked to see Lucas there.
“Fuck, Brock Lucas, wild man,” Lawson muttered.
“I’m in too.”
Tack looked over his shoulder to see Hawk had appeared out of thin air.
“Terrific. Now we can add the commando.” Lawson kept muttering.
“Let’s go,” Tack stated, pulling out his gun.
“Fuck!” Lawson clipped but Tack, Hawk and Lucas were on the move.
Tack saw his brothers were gone. They’d already scattered to take their positions.
Tack felt Lawson move out with them.