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Moving swiftly, they reached the cabins in a fraction of the time it took them to go up the hill with Gemma. Boone scanned the area.
Shep checked his camera feed on his phone. “They’re getting close. We don’t have much time. Come on.”
Boone followed Shep back into the barn. His friend moved right to the back and stopped at a dusty crate. He flicked open the lid to uncover a tough metal container protected by a high-tech lock.
Shep pressed his palm to the lock, and it beeped. The lid opened with a hiss. Inside was a bunch of weapons and grenades nestled in foam.
“You turning into a doomsday prepper, Barlow?”
“Fuck you, Hendrix. You’ll be thankful I have all this in a few minutes.” He pulled out a ballistic vest and shoved it at Boone’s chest.
They both pulled their vests on, tightening the fastenings. As Shep reached for the weapons, Boone grabbed his friend’s arm. “Shep, thank you.”
“Told you that you never, ever have to thank me for having your back.”
Boone nodded. “Ditto.”
They both grabbed more weapons and grenades. Then they hurried outside to set some boobytraps.
“I’ll take the high blind,” Shep said.
That made sense. Shep was a hell of a sniper.
“The other one’s in that tree.” He pointed. “Climb about halfway up and you’ll spot it.”
Boone couldn’t see it, but he’d find it.
Shep nodded. “Let’s do this.” He fished something out of his pocket and held it out. Boone took the earpiece and slipped it in.
Then they clasped hands. “Good hunting, Shep. I’m glad you have my back.”
“Always.” Then the big man jogged into the trees.
Boone headed to the tree Shep had shown him, and climbed the branches. The blind was a small wooden platform hidden by camouflage netting. It blended perfectly into the branches and leaves. He got settled and checked his rifle.
“We’ll pick off as many as we can,” Boone said. “Then go hunting.”
Once the mercenaries had his and Shep’s locations, they’d need to switch to close-quarter combat.
“Acknowledged.”
Boone glanced up at the mine. “Stay hidden and safe, Gemma.”
Now it was time for him to protect his woman.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
Boone lay flat and still, his eye pressed to the scope. He scanned the treeline beyond the cabins for movement.
Nothing yet.
His chest was tight, his gut churning. He was very aware that Gemma was up in the mine, alone except for Atlas. He hated that she was unprotected.
Usually on a mission he found his center, his mind cool and sharp. But with her so close, and a damn army coming for her, it made it hard.
She mattered too much.
So get your head in the game, Hendrix. Take these assholes down and protect her.
