“Son of a bitch must have planted explosives ahead of time. He blew the Kitchen Supply store. Fucking sink fell on the truck. It’s a goddamn mess. I hear you, Dex. Agents are on the way, but there’s shit blocking the road.”
Dex wasn’t about to wait for backup and chance Pearce getting away. He grabbed his vest, slipping into it as he ran over to Sloane, who shook his head and motioned toward the door.
“Okay. I’ll take that bastard down, I swear.”
Sloane nodded and Dex bolted after Pearce, fastening the straps of his vest before reaching the hall. He carefully peeked out and with the coast clear, he swiftly made his way to the staircase as the sound of heavy footsteps pounded against the wooden stairs two floors up. Dex wasted no time, using his training to keep his boots from making noise as he followed. He controlled his breathing, his Glock raised and close to him as he hurried. His adrenaline pumped through his veins, his heart raced, and his stomach felt queasy. He had to stop this bastard.
A door slammed somewhere high above him, and Dex ran the rest of the way up, coming to a stop on the landing under the fourth floor. He could see the closed door Pearce had gone through moments ago. Scanning his surroundings, he swiftly crept along the back of the stairway and along the wall until he was flattened against the wall beside the chipped blue door. There was only the one door on the floor. Dex remembered windows, no fire escape. He had to be extra vigilant. Isaac Pearce had fooled them all. Fooled him. By now Tony would be devising a strategy. At least Pearce was away from Sloane.
Carefully, he stretched his arm across the door and tested the doorknob. It was open. Fuck. That couldn’t be good. He pushed it open with his boot, remaining on the side of the door, gun aimed and ready to shoot anything that moved. There was nothing and no one. The room was empty with only the four windows. There was no way Pearce could have gone out the window without making a sound. Carefully, he entered the room, turning to cover all his angles. There was nothing but a bunch of exposed pipes running around the room vertically and horizontally, stretching up to the ceiling.
As he turned, he was knocked to the ground, but he kept his grip on his gun, swinging his arm to aim only to have it seized. Pearce straddled him as they struggled. Where the hell had the asshole come from, the ceiling? Dex twisted his body, using what momentum he could to deliver a left hook into Pearce’s ribs, a painful growl escaping him when his fist made contact with something hard. Bastard was wearing protection.
“This is your last chance, Dex! Join me or I’ll put a bullet in you. Then I’ll put a bullet in that animal downstairs.”
“Fuck you.” Dex snapped his head forward, slamming his forehead into Pearce’s nose. A fierce cry filled the air as Pearce’s head jolted back. Dex aimed at Pearce’s chest and fired. Pearce flew off Dex, onto his back. He rolled over, gurgling and gasping as he held onto his chest, blood pouring out of his nose, and down over his mouth. Dex pushed to his feet, ready to unload his magazine into the asshole, but his plan went awry when Isaac pulled something from inside his vest. Dex lunged to one side as a steel knife plunged into the wall behind him. He had to end this. Dex scrambled to his feet just as Pearce collided with him, sending them crashing through a glass pane. Dex used his arm to shield his face, the sting of the many shards slicing and cutting not nearly as painful as the thought of what lay below. As Pearce’s body sent them hurdling out the shattered and splintered window, Dex braced himself.
He’d survive this.
He had to.
Chapter 14
THEIR BODIES hit the aluminum storage container below, knocking the air out of Dex’s lungs. He lay on his back, gasping and shaking, his blurred gaze on the blackness of the girders above him. His chest felt as if it was in a vise, his body burning from the inside out. In the distance he could hear the wailing of sirens and chaos. The air around him was foggy and thick. Beside him, Pearce groaned and rolled over. Dex slapped a hand out looking for his gun. Who the hell knew where it landed. He carefully shifted, his limbs protested, but he didn’t think anything was broken, just rattled around. Looking up at the window they’d fallen through, he could see it was high, but with the height of the container, not enough to put them out of commission. He should have known Pearce would have a plan.
Dex rolled onto his side, sucking in a sharp breath, before breathing heavily through his nose. With a growl, he pushed to his knees, watching as Pearce rolled off the container. Dex crawled to the edge, cursing under his breath as Pearce crawled his way through the mound of cardboard boxes. Well wasn’t that fucking convenient.
“Fucking bastard.” Dex pushed off the side of the container and landed on the pile of cardboard. With a wince, he kicked and pushed the boxes out of his way as he crawled to the floor and forced himself to his feet. His right ankle burned and protested, but he pushed through the pain, running off after Pearce when another explosion went off, this one lifting him off his feet and flinging him against the storage unit he’d rolled off of. He hit the floor in a painful heap. Instinct kicked in and he rolled into a ball, covering his head as burning debris rained down around him. There was a smaller explosion to his left, and he forced himself to his feet. In the distance, he could hear familiar shouts. His team was close by. Regardless, he had to get Sloane out.
Heat and fire sprang up from containers where explosions had peeled back the aluminum like the lids of tuna fish cans. More containers went up in black smoke, and Dex scolded himself.
“Move your ass, Daley.” The explosions were getting closer, containers bursting in a fiery mess of black smoke and burning metal. Even if his team was close, Dex knew the score. They had their priorities where loss of life was
concerned and Dex wouldn’t be surprised if Pearce had known. Civilian safety came first. He could hear orders being shouted as fellow agents secured the area, clearing it and assessing the risks. Tony rambled something about a pack bot but screw that. Dex couldn’t wait for that. He had to get Sloane out. He ran back into the workshop, coughing when black smoke wafted through the doors. Shit, the place was on fire. There was no doubt in his mind Pearce had made a contingency plan. Snatching up one of the bolt cutters, Dex cut the chains binding Sloane’s wrists and carefully unfastened the one around his neck. He pulled the tape off Sloane’s mouth then moved to remove the tape from around his ankles. His partner was silent, and when Dex moved away, Sloane crumbled to the floor.
“Sloane, buddy, look at me. I need you to get on your feet. We need to get out of here.”
“He killed Gabe.” Sloane’s voice was so low, Dex had barely heard him.
“I know, I’m so sorry, but this place is filled with all kinds of flammable shit, and it’s on fire. We need to get out of here.” He grabbed Sloane’s face and met his gaze, his voice rough. “Please, Sloane. I’m not ready to let you join him.”
Sloane blinked, a tear running down his cheek. He nodded, and with Dex’s help, got to his feet. They quickly made their way out of the building, Dex’s arm wrapped around Sloane’s waist, but even with his ankle fighting him every step of the way, Dex refused to stop, not until they’d put a hell of a lot of distance between them and anything that could blow them up. There might not have been explosives planted in the workshop but there were enough flammable chemicals and gases to do the job. He could see Ash coming up fast, an ambulance not far behind. Behind them, the smaller explosions continued, and Sloane flinched. Ash got to them first, throwing a thermal blanket around Sloane and wrapping an arm around him.
“It’s okay. We got you,” Ash said, as the EMTs dashed over, getting Sloane onto a gurney. As soon as he sat down on it, he gave into his exhaustion. Ash took hold of Dex’s arm. Fire trucks sped past, heading for the workshop and the storage lot.
“Daley, you need to get yourself checked out.”
“I’m riding with him.” Dex tried to jerk his arm out of Ash’s iron grip.
“He’ll be fine. For fuck’s sake, Dex, you’re hurt. Not to mention you fell out of a fucking window!”
Dex rounded on Ash. “He’s my partner. I’m going with him. So help me, if you don’t let go of my arm, Ash, I will—”
“Ash, let him go,” Tony ordered quietly. “They’ll take care of him on the way to the hospital.”
With a terse smile toward his dad, Dex climbed into the back of the ambulance. The doors shut, and they took off. Dex took hold of Sloane’s hand as the team got to work cleaning his wounds and giving him oxygen. One of the medics tried to fuss with Dex’s ankle, but Dex sent him away. He leaned over Sloane, reminding himself they weren’t alone.
“It’s going to be okay,” Dex promised, his hand resting on Sloane’s brow. Amber eyes stared at the roof, silent tears rolling down the sides of his face. “You can’t blame yourself.”