Tin Soldier (Zade Book 3)

2

~Casey~

I pull up in front of my house, shut off my engine, then stare for just a moment at the SUV already parked there. Good. My crew is already here. I can't stand waiting around on incompetent people, and these three are anything but that. If they weren't, I'd have cut ties with them long ago. Incompetency gets you killed.

I open my door and climb out, then make my quick way to the house and then inside. I step into a flurry of activity. All the boxes and cases that had been stored in closets throughout my home are being sorted and piled in the center of the front room. I nod my head, satisfied with their progress.

"Paxton, where are we at?"

Our veteran member pauses only a moment to glance over his thin shoulder at me. "Checking over the list, sir. We'll be rolling in thirty."

I nod and he turns away. I look over at the other two members of my team; Litvak and Ripley are already carrying boxes out the door. I move to the cache, then heft up a container and follow them out. We shove our burdens into the back of their SUV before immediately turning back for more.

"Think we'll need all this, Zade?" Litvak asks, a tiny smirk curling the corner of his mouth. "Seems like it might be overkill."

"We can't take any chances," I answer shortly. "We're taking it all. Has there been any word on the little girl?"

"No, sir," he says, taking the stairs first, his immense size leaving no room for me. I follow as he continues. "We're still waiting for an update from the Governor's office. They've been pretty tight-lipped so far."

I let out a harsh breath and shake my head as we reach the containers again. I pick up another with a grunt; Litvak and Ripley follow my lead. "Stupid bastards. What the fuck are they waiting for? We need intel now."

"I think they're still hoping they won't need us," Paxton answers, his own irritation voiced in the grit of his tone.

"If they didn't need us, they wouldn't have made the call."

We carry our burdens in single file out and to the drive, then shove the containers into the back of the vehicle. I slam the hatch then turn back for more. We work awhile in silence, until every box is tucked neatly away. Once we're finished, we walk back in, none of us needing to say a word. We know the drill, we all know what to do.

We follow Paxton to the stairs where he squats down then unzips the only thing we hadn't packed away: an old duffel bag. He rummages inside and pulls out the headsets, then hands them out. I power mine up then situated it on my head. We do a quick check to make sure they're all working, and then I give a curt nod.

"Let's roll."

We head out, Paxton and Ripley in one vehicle, Litvak and myself in the other. The engines rumble to life and then we're moving. I don't take my time, and neither do they. When a life hangs in the balance, minutes can mean the difference between life and death. We don't play around with that shit. I press the comm button on the side of my headset.

"What'sour ETA, Paxton?"

"Eighteen hundred hours, sir."

"Let's see if we can't shave that down a bit." I press the accelerator to the floor and the engine roars in satisfaction. "Keep me advised of any communications. If they call, I want to know."

"Yes, sir."

I reach in my back pocket and fish out my phone then hand it over to Litvak; he immediately pulls away the back, then pries out the battery. He deposits everything in my glove box, then follows it with his own dismantled phone. We are following protocol now. Even with it powered off, a phone can still be tracked. The only working cell now is the one in Paxton's possession--as our comms expert, he's the only one who needs it.