Page 116 of Boomer

Boomer rose and went to them, releasing Alaric and helping him to his feet. He immediately went to Gretchen and held her close.

Bash came down the hall and nodded, blood on his hands. “We’re clear,” he whispered, looking at Taylor’s parents with relief.

Boomer depressed his comm. “Ice, the Hoffmans are safe. Taylor?”

Iceman’s voice was tight and sharp. “They took her before we got here. She made sure everyone was in the safe room, wounded but no dead thanks to her.”

“Took her?” His heart hollowed out. “Where?”

“Anna’s picked up a lone GPS signal heading toward a wayward dock. We’re on our way to pick you up.”

Boomer looked at Bash. “I’ve got them, mate. You get her back.”

Darkness swam behind her eyes,hot and muffled like pressure under water.

Taylor blinked once. Then again. Her head throbbed in sync with the frantic rhythm of her heart. She was on her side. Hands bound behind her back. Zip ties. Tight.

The van jolted over a curb, and pain flared at the base of her skull. She bit down hard, staying silent. The floor was metal. Cold. Salt clung to the air.They were taking her out of Lisbon by sea. Of course they were. No cameras. No trace.

She sat up slowly, teeth gritted. Her body was bruised, neck sore, lips swollen, her vision swimming in and out of double vision, her head excruciating. She tasted blood. She eyed the doors, nothing but determination left in her, and planning to fight again with everything she had.

Outside, gulls cried in the distance. The vehicle rolled to a stop. Doors slammed. Nothing happened, so she wiggled her hands over her butt, lifted her arms, and brought her bound wrists hard against her knees. The plastic broke apart. She was free.

Her ears strained. A sharp hiss. Subtle. Like air compression. Suppressed shots?

Footsteps sounded outside. She braced herself. When the doors opened, she tackled the first silhouette, taking him to the ground, her fist cocked and ready to shatter a jaw.

“Whoa, wildcat,” the voice rasped, wrecked and ragged. “You gonna punch the guy who came to save you?”

She froze.

Boomer.

Soaked in sweat. Blood-smeared. Eyes dark and burning.

Her breath hitched. She didn’t speak.

She grabbed his vest with both hands and kissed the hell out of him, hard, fast, all relief and desperation. She kissed him like she needed him to feel what words couldn’t carry. Like if she didn’t, she might shatter into pieces.

Boomer didn’t flinch. He kissed her back like the world could wait.

Then the chuckles came.

She pulled back just enough to register the rest of the team all standing there.

Iceman smirked. “Hell of a greeting, Hoffman.”

She pushed off Boomer, wiped her mouth, and looked at Kodiak. “In my defense, I do have a concussion.”

Breakneck tilted his head, smirking. “Do we all get kisses too? Or is that just a Boomer special?”

Taylor groaned. Boomer just muttered, “You want a concussion, too?”

Less than six hours later,the approval to take down TheZverstvo Triadwas greenlit by the Americans, the UK, and the eight participating countries. The CIA had the intel, and Boomer, Taylor, and the SBS were airborne.

Once they landed, they were met with NATO forces who joined Taylor, Boomer, and the SEAL/SBS team staging a multinational assault on the Montenegro compound itself.

Inserted under darkness by sea and air, they breached the perimeter of the villa with precision and firepower, engaging Triad guards in a brutal close-quarters fight. Bash and Breakneck neutralized outer perimeter patrols; GQ and Hazard took the southern wing. Taylor herself tracked Milena to theupper floor of the villa, where the two women faced off, Milena armed, cornered, and spiteful. Taylor made the shot.