BROKEN COURAGE (Broken Redemption Book 3)

Chapter 37

Lucas

"Team four to team one, it's your go."

"Copy that," I answer. "Team one moving in."

"Lock it down, brother." Mason puts a hand on my shoulder. "Shove that shit way down deep and throw away the key. It's time to work."

In that instant, I'm no longer the broken-hearted man thinking of the woman I love or the smiling little girl who owns my heart. Passing the helm off to the sure-footed operator within me, I meet Mason's eyes. "Let's get it done."

Lifting my M4, I take the lead. With Nero on my heels, we move with the military precision that was ingrained into us from the very start of our careers. Though my focus remains trained on our surroundings, I can feel Nero's gaze as he waits for a command. I don't need to look at him to know that, like Mason and me, he's in the zone. His eyes and ears are on high alert, while his body is primed and ready for whatever may come. With my thoughts honed in on the job at hand, and with my teammates at my back, the only thing that matters is the mission.

It feels good.

Familiar.

Trusting my canine partner, I give him the signal, allowing him to proceed with his search, knowing not only will he lead us to where we need to be, but he'll also alert us the minute he senses trouble. With his nose to the ground, he weaves his way through the trees, matching the pace at which Mason and I are clearing the area.

And then I see it.

The change in him is instant. His body grows taught, and he stops, standing stock still with his nose pointed toward whatever's caught his attention. Like a statue made of stone, he waits for us. Though not moving, his muscles twitch, vibrating with tension as he waits for me to assess the situation and issue another command. His excitement is palpable, radiating into the air and somehow channeling into me. There's no doubt whatever he's tracking—sensing—will yield at least some of the answers we seek.

A clue.

A bad guy.

Embree and Alyssa.

Regardless of what it is, Nero is champing at the bit, eager to hunt it down. Following his line of sight beyond the charred remains of a stone wall, two large doors come into view.

"Buried or underground." Owen's words echo loudly in my thoughts.

"He was right," I whisper to myself before alerting the team. "This is team one. We've got cellar doors, about a hundred yards out. We need cover." I look over at Mason. Though his body is pivoted away from us, his M4 pointed behind us as he watches our backs, he nods in agreement.

We're doing this.

"This is team two. We see you. Proceed when ready."

"Team three, this is Team four. Stay where you are, but be ready to move in if needed."

"Copy that." Agent Hunt responds.

"Moving in," I speak into the com, while at the same time giving Nero the signal. Allowing him to move ahead of us, he gets to the door first, his tail standing at attention right over his back. The old metal doors are weathered and rusted from years spent not being maintained. However, the thick chain and padlock securing them look to be brand new. With newfound hope joining the rush of adrenaline pumping through my veins, I turn to Mason. "Bolt cutters."

Without taking his eyes from the space behind us, he steps back until he's close to me. Then, reaching over his head into the pack on his back, he grabs the cutters and gives them to me. With shaky hands, I take the tool, for once grateful for the grip of the gloves covering my sweat-laden hands. It takes two attempts for the metal to give way, and when it finally comes apart, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.