Rogue Page 96

Marc shook his head, his expression careful y blank. “You’re also the loudest. I’d rather get in and out without being detected than have to outrun them both.”

“I’m not going to stumble around and—”

“No.” Marc frowned. And just like with my father, that was that. I knew better than to press the point past a solid no.

Stil glaring at me, Marc took off. At the edge of the park, he glanced around to make sure no one else was watching. Then he vaulted over a chain-link fence and disappeared behind the first of at least a dozen presumably empty boxcars.

The rest of us waited in the parking lot, growing more and more impatient in the September heat.

Ten miserable minutes after he left, Marc returned, issuing orders before he even got to the car. My father would have been proud.

“Parker, you stay with the van,” he said, digging for the keys in his pocket. “Spread plastic over the entire floor and cut the rope in the back into three-foot sections. We’re hoping to bring them out alive, but they won’t be pretty. Wait for my call, then pull into the rail yard from the front entrance. That’s the only way in with a car.”

Parker nodded, catching the keys Marc tossed his way.

Marc spun on the concrete to face the rest of us, while we stood in a straight line like good little soldiers. “They’re in the old engine depot. The windows are all boarded over or blacked out, so I couldn’t see them, but I could hear them talking and clanging around.”

Blood rushed through my veins, pounding in my ears in a rhythm so frantic and fast I thought I might pass out. But I was just excited, and more than a little nervous. This was the first big assignment I’d been involved in since we’d taken out Miguel, and that one was a bittersweet success. We’d lost a man.

We couldn’t afford to lose another one this time. Not even one of the bad guys. Everything had to go according to the plan. Which was surprisingly simple.

“The bay doors are barred from the outside, which leaves only two ways into the depot,” Marc was saying, eyeing each of us in turn. “One standard door in front and one in the back. Jace and Faythe, you’ll go in the front. Burst in and make some noise to get their attention.”

I couldn’t help wondering why he’d paired me with Jace instead of Vic.

“Vic and I will pick up a couple of two-by-fours, then come in from the rear when we hear you. The objective is to take them both out with a single blow to the head. Without killing them. So control your force, please,” he said, that last part aimed at Vic.

Vic nodded.

“Any questions?”

I frowned, thinking hard. Surely there was something I should ask. It couldn’t be that simple. Could it? But I was drawing a complete blank.

“Good.” Marc pointed toward the fence at the back of the park, where he’d gained entrance to the rail yard. “We’ll go in there, over that last panel. Give us three minutes to get into place. Then make your move. It’l go fast from there. Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut.

No argument, and no unnecessary communication. And keep your minds on the job at hand. Understand?” Marc seemed to be looking at me in particular for that one, which pissed me off.

Jace nodded and elbowed me in the arm. I glowered at Marc but nodded grudgingly.

Parker climbed into the van to make the preparations, and we jogged across the park. Sweat was already running down my back and gathering behind my knees. September in Texas was a real y rotten time to be chasing bad guys.

We leapt the fence one at a time, then followed Marc, our shoes silent on the hard-packed earth. At the front of the building, Marc pointed to a spot between the huge bay doors and the closed front door, indicating that Jace and I should wait there. He tapped his watch, then held up three fingers, mouthing “Three minutes” as he and Vic picked their way noiselessly around the far corner of the building.

I nodded, already focused on my watch. The second hand seemed sluggish, ticking from number to number with painful lassitude. By the time it completed its first cycle, I was bored, staring around the rail yard at abandoned parts, machines, train cars, oil barrels, and countless other leftovers from the glory days of cross-country freight trains.

On my right, Jace sighed. He inhaled deeply, and I did the same, searching the air for any sign of Andrew or Luiz. I found none. Not even on the doorknob, which they’d surely touched to enter the building.

Unless they’d come in from the rear.

If that were the case—if the front door hadn’t been opened in years—might it not be locked? And thus difficult to open? Hmm.

Catching Jace’s attention, I mimed kicking the door open, rather than turning the knob. Jace nodded. Glancing at his watch, he held up one hand, fingers spread. As he met my eyes, he folded down one finger.

Then another. I nodded; his message was clear.

“Five…four…” The third finger went down, and I studied the door, trying to decide where to kick. There, just below the knob. “…two…one,”

Jace mouthed. He nodded at me, and I nodded back. My pulse spiked.

My heart pounded. My leg flew.

We kicked at exactly the same time, in near-perfect form. My father would have been ecstatic.

Wood splintered. Metal creaked. The door flew open, tilted at a crazy angle. We’d ripped the top hinge from the frame.

For a long moment, we stood still, staring into the building, waiting for our eyesight to adjust to the darkness within. When it didn’t adjust, I glanced at Jace and stepped into the depot. That’s when the figure inside came slowly into focus. The only figure. One body. Not two.

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