Staking out the warehouse, Calvin noted the guards on the roof. A pair to be exact; one on the east side, one on the west. A high, chain-link fence surrounded the property, leaving an open space of at least forty yards, a wide swath with no cover. The front bay doors were wide open but guarded. A guy stood just outside, rifle slung over his shoulder. Sloppy. Their old sergeant would have had him running the quad until he puked then would have made him clean it up before running again. Within the building, crisscrossing in plain sight, he saw more men wandering. Laughing and talking.

They wouldn’t be laughing for long.

I will kill you all. That was his plan. But did they seriously expect him to use the front door?

He was tempted. Just stroll right in and pick them off, one by one. By the time they realized he was coming, most would be dead.

However, given this was a rescue mission, he had to exercise caution. Also, he’d promised Harry that he would wait for backup, something about not keeping all the fun for himself.

He appeared to be the first one to arrive for the party. While he waited for the other boys to get their asses into position, he wasn’t completely idle. He located some sentries outside the fence line. Snuck up behind them both actually—they never heard death coming—and ended their miserable lives with a twist of hands and a sharp crack of their necks.

With them unable to raise an alarm, Calvin paced around the outside of the building. The warehouse was like many in this quarter, built of stone block for the first ten feet or so and then metal siding for the rest. A door at the back allowed entry and had a pair of guards. Had being the keyword. The silencer on his gun meant he barely made a sound when he dropped them. Perfect headshots, just like the academy had taught him—because anything else saw the students punished.

Four down, a mini army to go. Calvin looked for more points of entry. Windows were spaced along the side of the warehouse, too small for him or anyone other than maybe Kacy to squeeze through. On the second floor, the apertures were wider, but inaccessible.

Returning to the front, Calvin froze as he noted motion at one of the small windows on the west side. A set of legs dangled then a body. A little girl was dropped to the ground.

Zoe! His first impulse was to vault over the fence so he could run and grab her. Mason emerged suddenly from the shadows and held him back.

“You’ll get shot,” his friend hissed. “You need to take out the guys on the roof. Give me a second. I’ve got a rifle in my bag.” Good idea, given a pistol at this angle and distance would be iffy at best.

As Mason rummaged through his bag of goodies, Calvin knew he couldn’t remain idle. As the little girl ran across the space, he dropped to his knees and pulled the wire cutters from his pocket—no assassin ever left home without a few tools of the trade.

As he snipped, Calvin didn’t know if Zoe could see him, but it wouldn’t matter once she got close enough. He trimmed a hole in the fence as fast as he could and was pulling the loose wires out of the way when he noticed Zoe’s gaze alight on him. Despite the shadows, she recognized him.

Her mouth opened, and she took in a breath. He quickly put a finger on his lips and shook his head.

Smart girl, she clamped her mouth shut, but someone still noticed her.

“I see something moving,” shouted the fucktard on top of the building. Took him long enough.

Calvin reached out and pulled Zoe through the hole, immediately tucking her behind his body as the roof sniper took aim. The gun atop the roof cracked loudly as the man fired, poorly, he might add. Little Zoe let out a shriek of fright.

He had no time to comfort as Mason slapped a rifle in his hand, once again equipped with a silencer—a must in his profession. Calvin didn’t miss—because he was a pro, unlike these wanna-bes. Their very existence offended him. The fact that they’d shot at Zoe pissed him off.

Who the fuck shoots at a kid? Not these assholes. Not anymore.

Zoe hiccupped and sobbed behind him, still not saying a word but unable to hide her fright.

He turned and pulled her against him, stroking her hair, soothing her even though he’d have told anyone who asked he didn’t know how. But it came instinctually. “Shhh, princess. I’m here. You’re okay.”

“Momm—mmy,” she stuttered. “Mommy’s inside.”

Calvin shot a look at the window Zoe had escaped from. He still wouldn’t fit, but that wouldn’t stop him from going in.

He stood, Zoe in his arms. “Mason, take Zoe to safety.” He handed the little girl to his friend.

“Calvin, what are you doing? You can’t go in alone. Wait. The boys are coming.”

Except Calvin couldn’t wait. He didn’t dare wait. People willing to shoot a child wouldn’t hesitate to kill a woman. It wouldn’t happen, not tonight, not fucking ever.

Calvin shed his coat before palming a gun in each hand. Only then did he reply. “Those b—” The word he wanted to say burned at the tip of his tongue, but he remained all too aware that little ears listened, so he changed it to, “Bullies took something they shouldn’t have. I’m going to get her back.”

And he wasn’t going to hide while doing it. Someone had given him an invitation to a party, and Calvin was going to make them fucking dance.

He took long strides toward the opening in the gate that led to the front of the warehouse. He began shooting even before the guard noticed his approach.

There was a time and place for subterfuge. This wasn’t that time. He also didn’t plan to show any mercy.

You dared to touch people I cared about.

For that, they would all die.

Bang.