The Law of Motion (Law Series) (43 page)

I was tackled to the ground, and the two of us slid through the wet grass several feet, before coming to a stop. The rain was fucking cold, and I was saturated instantly. Rough hands gripped me, trying to hold me down, but I turned over, bringing my knee up to Piss Boy's groin, causing him to release his hold on me. With another boot to his face, I scooted away from him, only for my back to come into contact with someone's legs.

"Shit," I hissed, when the sound of an automatic rifle was engaged in my ear.

"Don't do it, princess," Myles growled, gripping my hair and yanking me up. "Get up."

He marched me back to the top of the stairwell, only to shove me down. I fell with a grunt, landing right beside the young boy I'd knocked out.

"Fuck!" I snapped, glaring up at Myles as he casually descended the stairs.

"Get your ass up," he said, turning toward the opening. "Yo, Ray! Get me something that will keep this bitch in her cell."

I hid my smirk, because the fall didn’t hurt as bad as I let on. When he was within arm distance I pushed myself back up, swiping my leg beneath him. My foot caught his ankles and sent him flying backwards, flat against the floor, sending the gun sliding into the cage.

I couldn’t get to it right away, because another guy tried to help and I had to trust my palm up into his nose as a reminder of why it wasn’t a good idea.

Myles grabbed the back of my shirt, and I whirled around sending my fist into his face. Then the door at the top of the stairs swung open, and everyone froze at the voice that demanded to know, “What the FUCK is going on down here?”

A large man that reminded me of Victor descended, his arms bulging as he pointed his gun at me. I froze too, something about his all back shirt and cargo pants, his military grade boots, didn’t scream ‘untrained ruffian’.

Terry cleared his throat behind him as he looked over the scene responding. “You idiots managed to let her escape from her cell?”

Myles wiped his bloody nose, “We got her didn’t we?”

              “I don’t want to hear anything from anyone.” The white-haired man snapped before turning an amused look to me. “Alyssa Giselle Marshall.
You’re
the one that’s been making my job so difficult.”

             
I steeled my shoulders at the man, sniffing “Let me guess, you’re the one that  I owe the ass kicking to for putting all of this shit together?”

             
Terry started at me, “Put this bitch in her cell. Someone needs to teach her som
e
”

             
“
Easy Windsor.” The mystery man smirked obviously finding what I said funny. “You have quite a mouth on you little girl.”

             
“I have even better hands, if you care to find out.” I snapped.

             
He gave me a dark chuckle, “Have you ever heard of respecting your elders young lady?”

             
“I respect those
worth
respecting, respect is earned.” I clarified gesturing at the gun still trained on my head.

             
That seemed to anger Terry more than the brute it was directed at. He dove at me, hand raised, “ I’ll show you respec
t
”

             
I readied myself but it was in vain, as soon as the guy put a large arm in front of Terry’s path halting him, Terry stopped. “Now, now, Windsor.” He chuckled. “She has a point.”

             
Terry scoffed, lowering his hand muttering something about “bullshit.” I looked around at everyone else. No one was worried about trying to put me back in my cage. No one moved, let alone said anything. Even Myles, who always had some type of sick quip, was silent watching me and this guy with sharp eyes.

             
I got the hint that as long as he was there, they weren’t worried about me escaping, and I was about to find out why.

             
“I guess I should earn it, huh?” He asked stepping closer to me.

             
I gave him one stiff nod.

             
He kept a cocky smirk on his face as he lowered his gun and passed it off to Terry. Terry looked at him like he was insane but took it anyway. He opened his arms, giving me the well-known ‘come at me bro’ gesture.    “Let’s have a go doll.”

             
This guy was big, but I could take him. I quickly took off my flannel shirt, ripped off a sleeve and wrapped it around the knuckles of my right hand.

             
“Cute.” He grinned before hardening his expression and turning to order the others, “
don’t
interfere.”

             
His word was apparently law, because when I swung my leg high enough to strike my boot against his stomach and send him buckling over in a grunt, no one attempted to help. When his six foot plus frame lowered to my level I rammed my right hand into the side of his face. His jaw felt like steel but I did draw blood, because he spit it on the floor when he grabbed my wrist before I could land another punch.

             
The pressure of his grip hurt like hell, and I shot jabs with my left hand in an attempt  to free my arm. He pulled me closer, which for some reason I welcomed. It was completely reckless to have a closed quarter encounter with someone of his size. I rammed my knee into the side of his face, and he set me free with a drop after his nose made a delightful crunch.

             
I rolled back giving myself space, taking a low knee to observe the other guys surrounding us. No one moved. The mystery guy righted himself, wiping his nose blood. “You’re a quick one aren’t you?” He panted gruffly.

             
I didn’t answer, just put myself back on my feet twirling my wrist to make sure I could still use. He came at me low, and surprisingly fast for someone his size. I tried to punch him again, and he blocked it with ease sending his left, swinging against my head. I put my arm against my face to keep him from landing a direct hit, but the force of it still sent me staggering to my right.

             
Before I could gather my balance, his steel grip was around my throat  and my back was against the wall. Myles’ voice made some smart ass comment, but I was too busy trying to free myself to listen. My fists pounded on his forear
m
the only thing within reaching distance for m
e
but he just tightened his grip, and pushed me up the wall.

             
I was struggling for air, my feet dangling, searching for the ground, and he just fucking smirked, crooked nose, and bloody mouth that didn’t seem to bother him at all. “Where’s that smart ass mouth now?”

             
I couldn’t get enough air to answer, but if I could, I would have probably said something along the lines of ‘fuck you’. I guess the look in my eyes seemed to radiate that anyway because he just pulled me away from the wall, letting me dangle in mid-air before forcing my head back against the cement wall, and my world faded into darkness all over again.

I could see the place through the trees. It was well lit, with a shit-ton of activity going on. There were men stationed at various points on the grounds, and some were walking the same path over and over. They were armed, I noted, as Macon and I crouched down a few yards away.

I pulled out my binoculars, reporting what I could see. "I've got a visual on what looks like...twenty men...maybe. Looks like the entire place is on patrol, but I can't see past the house from our location."

"Good," Cam stated over the radio. "How 'bout anyone else? You see about the same?"

"I'm on point," Victor called out. "I'm counting about that many. They're awfully busy tonight."

"Won't matter," my dad countered. "We're going on my signal. Wait for it."

I glanced over to my left, making sure that Jackson, Ross, and Dario were getting set to take the barn. They were crouched down just inside the line of trees, where the shadows fell on them. If you didn't know to look for them, you wouldn't know they were even there.

A beeping alarm sounded—not from the place we were about to storm, but through my earpiece.

"What the hell..." both Cam and Kristen muttered.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," Tink gasped, and I could hear her typing. "Oh, fuck... Alyssa's chip just popped online!"

"Easy, Margaux," my dad soothed her. "Tell us what you see. Where exactly is she?"

"Um...from what I can tell, right between the house and the bomb shel..." Tink groaned, stopping in mid-sentence. It was all I could do to not snap at her. "Okay, okay, okay...something’s changed, the signal cut off again. But she is there guys."

"Well, that just means we were right," Victor soothed us all. "We'll be going in on Liam's mark..."

"If you have a clear path, get to the fence line. Go ahead and cut your opening," my dad ordered, and Jackson's team moved.

Macon and I had a light pole casting a glow on the spot where we should've been cutting our way in.

"We'd be in the open," Mack stated. "We're going in with J."

"Ten-four," my dad acknowledged. "Victor, you and your team get ready to take that guard shack. Margaux, I need you to kill the power and communications on my mark!"

"On it, on it, on it," she answered him.

             
Macon and I ran low just inside the woods as we made our way to Jackson's position. Ross was already through the razor wire and working on the chain link fence. When she was just about finished, we rushed to her, falling flat onto our stomachs.

             
"Margaux...now!" Dad ordered, and the place went dark with a dull thump. "No one move yet..." he warned.

"Vic, you've got someone heading your way," Cam warned, most likely seeing it from the camera.

"I've got a gate," Ross announced, pocketing the wire cutters.

"We're through," Hunter said.

"Our opening is cut," Dad added. "Vic, how's your company?"

Silence was the only answer we received, but Hunter could see.

"The guard is taking a piss so close to Spike that he could tell his religion," he announced.

I shook my head, because that was dangerous as shit. One right glimmer of light, one heavy breath, and the guy could see you. Spike had to have been holding his breath at this point.

My crew's heads snapped up when two men walked to the back of the barn.

             
"Myles's crazy, it's not raining hard enough for it to kill the breakers. It's not even fucking lightning!"

One was a rather large younger man, dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt. The other man was older—I'd say late fifties— dressed similarly.

"We've got company, too," Jackson muttered as we all lay perfectly still along the fence line.

"Hold the line!" Dad snapped in a hiss.

"How'd that bitch get out anyway?" the younger man asked.

"I don't know, but Bobby will be feeling that headache a week from now. Knocked his ass into next week, she did," the older man snorted. "All I did was take a leak. Next thing I know, she's makin' a run for it."

"Well, I’d say she learned her lesson now," the younger one sighed, shaking his head, "which is a shame, 'cause I'd tap that hard before Terry turned her over."

My anger flashed a deep crimson red, and my whole body tensed. Dario reached out a hand to steady me, gripping my shoulder so hard, it was almost painful, as he shook his head ‘no’. He put a finger to his lips, and then reached down to slowly and silently pull out his knife. He gestured for me to do the same, because we were going to take out these guys before they ever had a chance to report back what the electrical problem was. I reached down to my boot, pulling mine out.

The two men held a flashlight up to open the breaker box, casting a singular circle of light on the backside of the barn. No one else was around them, no one else would hear them, and they'd never fucking see us coming.

"Go, go, go!" Dad commanded into the radio.

Dario and I were first through the fence and behind our two targets before they even had a chance to blink. The flashlight hit the ground as I grabbed the younger man, while Dario controlled the older. We held their mouths as our knives gleamed against their throats.

"Where is she?" Dario hissed in the man's ear, nicking his skin when he didn't answer. "Tell me, and I'll let you live. Have you guys been keeping her in the bomb shelter?" he asked, smiling when the man tried to nod under his heavy grip. "Good," he praised, locking eyes with me.

With a nod, knives sliced, and the men were no more, their bodies thumping to the ground. Macon and Jackson hid them behind the barn, but so much for silence, because gunshots and an alarm rang out into the air.

"Oh fuck," Hunter groaned. "The motherfucker lit a cigarette, and that's all she wrote. Spike's been spotted."

"Spike's down! Spike's down!" Victor grunted. "We were spotted. The fucker shot him, his pal hit the alarm."