Chapter 93 1 Of 4
Liam entered the basement, his steps light and calculated. The air was thick with the pungent scent of chemicals and powder. Dim, flickering lights barely illuminated the scene before him. The first thing he noticed was a group of women being forced to weigh and package cocaine. Their faces were hollow, their eyes filled with fear and exhaustion. Some had bruises on their arms, evidence of rough handling.
Then, his eyes locked onto Amanda. She stood rigid, her defiant posture setting her apart from the others. One of the men overseeing the operation barked at her, demanding that she continue working. When she hesitated, a loud slap echoed through the basement. Amanda staggered back, her hand flying to her reddened cheek.
Liam watched without a flicker of emotion. In his eyes, Amanda was being foolish. She was surrounded by armed men in a drug lab, refusing to cooperate was as good as signing her own death warrant. At least she wasn’t thrown into a brothel like he had first assumed. This was still bad, but it could have been worse. When the sting of the slap settled in, Amanda seemed to realize the gravity of her situation. Swallowing her pride, she began to do as she was told.
A sudden shift in the air made Liam tense. weeks of death experiences honed his instincts, and danger prickled at his senses. Without hesitation, he ducked low and rolled to the side. A gunshot rang out, the bullet missing him by inches and embedding itself into a wooden crate. The deafening crack of gunfire shattered the eerie quiet of the basement.
"Shit," Liam muttered under his breath as he crouched behind a sturdy metal table, his cover momentarily secure.
Shouts erupted as the workers scrambled in panic. The cartel enforcers instantly reached for their weapons, scanning the room for the intruder. Two men stormed in from the entrance Liam had used, they had just seen their three dead comrades so they followed him here. One of them was responsible for the shot, he had hoped to kill Liam with one shot when he saw him croching behind crates
The second of the newcomers raised his rifle and unleashed a hail of gunfire in Liam’s direction.
BRA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA!
Bullets pelted the metal table, sparks flying with each impact. The rattling shots rang in his ears, but he kept his head down. The moment their clips ran dry, Liam exploded into motion. He vaulted over the table, his movements fluid.