Wolf Untamed (SWAT - Special Wolf Alpha Team #11) - Paige Tyler Page 0,34
if it wasn’t so strange.
“Please tell me you’re not going to let that cat follow you into the bank,” Diego said, glancing at the green-eyed feline, who gazed up at him like she thought he was an idiot before jumping onto the hood of the response vehicle.
“No way. And don’t call her that cat. She has a name.” Connor quickly unloaded his sniper rifle and slipped it in the back of the vehicle. “I let her follow me up onto the roof because it’s safe. We’ve already talked about the fact that she’s not allowed to take part in any tactical entries. She’ll stay here and guard the vehicle.”
Diego nearly asked if Connor was flipping serious, then changed his mind. He almost assuredly was. The man was always talking to the cat. And the little beast was always staring back with those freakishly intelligent eyes and nodding like she was actually listening.
It was unsettling in a this-cat-is-trying-to-take-over-the-world kind of way.
Connor gave the cat a firm look, told her to stay put, then turned and jogged toward the perimeter of police cruisers parked in front of the bank, heading for the back of the building as Kat sat there calmly on the hood of the SUV, watching him. The moment Connor disappeared, she blinked and gave Diego a look suggesting that when she gained that aforementioned world domination, he’d be one of the first she did away with.
Yup, definitely unsettling.
Checking one more time to make sure his SIG was secure behind his gear belt, Diego headed for the front door of the bank, hearing the unmistakable sound of arguing coming from inside.
“Mike, it’s getting hot in there,” he murmured into his radio mic. “We may have to accelerate our timetable.”
“Roger that,” Mike confirmed. “Trey, let us know when you’re in position.”
“Wilco,” Trey answered. “We’ll be in place in less than two.”
When he got to the door, Diego grabbed the handle and pulled it open. Not only hadn’t the bad guys locked it, but they hadn’t considered that piling crap up in front of doors that opened out didn’t do much good. He shoved the stack of upholstered chairs aside, making an awful noise in the process. The hostages huddled near the counter let out a collective gasp at his unceremonious entrance, but Diego didn’t so much as glance at them. The only people he focused on were the three gunmen.
Two of the men on the far side of the bank immediately lifted their weapons and started in his direction. But it was the red-haired guy in the T-shirt and jeans closest to him that concerned him the most—the one Connor had described as catatonic. Shit, the guy couldn’t be more than twenty years old. The kid stood there, hazel eyes flat and lifeless, a smear of blood across his left temple and into his hairline. Diego had no idea where the blood had come from, but the moment the guy noticed him, his gaze went from empty to rage-filled.
Letting out a demented bellow, the guy lifted his weapon and started shooting, running at Diego like some sort of berserker. At the same time, the skylights in the center of the ceiling suddenly shattered, raining down glass and pieces of metal along with his teammates, but the guy coming at him wasn’t fazed by their arrival. The frightened hostages, on the other hand, screamed in panic. Then a round sliced through the muscles of Diego’s right shoulder while another slammed into the center of his tactical vest, and he had to stop worrying about everything but the madman coming at him.
Even though the ballistic plates in his vest stopped the second bullet, it still hurt like hell. The guy was almost on him, though, so Diego ignored the pain and lunged forward, avoiding taking another round to a part of his body that would hurt even worse as he slammed into the gunman. Even though Diego weighed over two hundred and thirty pounds and smashed into him viciously enough to rattle his own teeth, the guy didn’t let out a grunt. Hell, he barely moved. Instead, he slammed right back into Diego.
Diego used the man’s momentum, twisting and flipping the guy across his hip before taking him to the floor so hard he knocked the air out of the man with a grunt. But that didn’t slow the rabid guy down, and he continued to try to point the automatic weapon toward Diego’s face.