Page 20 of Rescued by Four Alphas (Claimed by the Four Alphas #2)

I 've never wanted to kill someone as badly as I want to kill Reid right now.

I pace the length of Evan's office, my boots wearing a path in the expensive carpet. My wolf claws at my insides, demanding freedom, demanding blood, and for once, we're in perfect agreement.

Someone took our mate. Someone drugged her, carried her through a hidden door, and vanished with her into thin air. Someone is going to die for that.

Leo stands by the window, his usual calm demeanor cracked wide open. His fingers tap against his service weapon, and his eyes track every movement outside like he's hunting prey. Axl is sprawled in an armchair, but the casual pose is a lie. I can smell the rage rolling off him in waves.

"This waiting is bullshit," I growl, slamming my fist against the wall. The plaster cracks, adding another dent to the collection I've left today. "We should be out there looking for her."

"And where exactly would we start?" Leo asks, not turning from the window. "We have no leads, no trail to follow."

"Anywhere is better than sitting on our asses while she's…" I can't finish the sentence. My mind fills with images of Dahlia strapped to a table, scared and alone. Fucking hell. I don't even want to imagine it.

"Evan will be back soon," Axl says. "Hammond must know something about Reid's operation."

"Hammond is a sadistic piece of shit," I spit. "You think he'll help us? He'd rather see us suffer."

"Evan can be persuasive," Leo reminds me.

The door opens, and we all turn like wolves, scenting prey. Evan walks in, and I barely recognize him. His perfectly tailored suit is rumpled, his hair disheveled. Dark circles shadow his eyes, and a muscle ticks in his jaw. He looks like a man who's gone to hell and back.

"What did you get?" I demand, not bothering with pleasantries.

Evan walks to his desk, bracing his hands against the polished wood. "It's worse than we thought."

“According to Hammond, Reid has been planning this for years, and the facility is very complex.”

"And Dahlia?" Axl asks, "What does he... what will he do to her?"

Evan clenches his fists so tightly, his veins look like they might pop. "He wants to accelerate her pregnancy. Extract the babies early for study. Then... use her to breed more test subjects."

The room temperature seems to drop by twenty degrees. My wolf surges so close to the surface that I feel my teeth sharpen.

"Where is this place?" I demand. "I'll tear it apart with my bare hands."

"Northwest Montana, near the Canadian border," Evan says. "It's an old missile silo complex that's been converted. Hammond called it 'Site R.'"

Leo pulls out his phone, typing rapidly. "I'm pulling up satellite imagery now."

Seconds later, he projects the images onto the wall screen. The facility sits in a valley surrounded by mountains, accessible only by a single road that winds through dense forest.

"It's a fucking fortress," Axl mutters, studying the images. "Look at the perimeter fencing, the guard towers. That's military-grade security."

"Hammond said it has three levels above ground and five below," Evan adds. "The lower levels would be where they're keeping Dahlia."

Leo zooms in on the images. "There are multiple security checkpoints on the access road. Surveillance cameras cover every approach, and what looks like automated defense systems are along the perimeter wall."

"And inside?" I ask.

"According to Hammond, it's a fully equipped medical research facility with specialized containment cells for shifters," Evan says. "Armed guards, biometric access controls, the works."

"So, a frontal assault is suicide," Axl concludes.

"We wouldn't make it past the first checkpoint," Leo agrees grimly. "They'd see us coming a mile away."

I slam my fist on the desk again, making everything on it jump. "So, what's the alternative? Leave her there and let that monster cut our babies out of her?"

"Of course not," Evan's voice is ice cold. "We're getting her out. We just need a plan that doesn't get us all killed before we can reach her."

"We need more people," Leo says. "This isn't something the four of us can handle alone, no matter how motivated we are."

"Who can we trust?" Axl asks. "If Reid has government backing, going to the authorities is out of the question."

"What about the regional Alpha council?" Leo suggests. "They have resources and warriors."

Evan shakes his head. "I found out that several council members have suspected government connections. We can't risk it."

The room falls silent as we all contemplate our limited options. Then a thought occurs to me.

"The underground networks," I say slowly.

Three pairs of eyes turn to me.

"The rogues, the outcasts, the independents," I continue. "Shifters who operate outside the official pack structures. They have no love for the government and plenty of experience with covert operations."

Evan's eyes narrow. "Do you have contacts in those circles?"

"My pack has always maintained relationships with the fringe elements," I admit. "We call it having insurance, in case the mainstream packs ever turned against us."

"And you trust them?" Leo asks skeptically.

"I trust their hatred for government interference," I say. "And I trust that they'll do anything for the right price."

"Money isn't an issue," Evan says immediately. "Whatever it costs."

I shake my head. "It's not about money, not entirely. These people deal in favors, in blood debts. I'll need to call in some markers."

"Do it," Evan orders. "Get whoever you can."

"We'll need more than just fighters, though," Leo points out. "We need someone who can hack their systems, neutralize their surveillance. Someone who knows the layout of missile silo complexes."

"I have a friend," Axl says unexpectedly. "From my wilder days. Some of them owe me for keeping them out of jail. Others would do it just for the thrill."

"Great," Evan says. "Contact them."

"What are we talking about here exactly?" Leo asks, though his tone suggests he already knows. "This isn't just a rescue mission anymore."

"No," I agree, my voice dropping to a growl. "It's a war. Every person in that facility is complicit in kidnapping and torturing our mate. Every single one of them should die for that."

"Collateral damage needs to be minimal," Leo says. "The more bodies, the more attention we'll draw afterward."

"I don't give a fuck about afterward," I snap. "I care about getting Dahlia out alive. Everything else is secondary."

"I understand," Leo says, his voice softening slightly. "But if we end up on every international wanted list, our freedom won't do Dahlia much good."

"Well, we would need our freedom if we can't get to Dahlia in time."

"I agree. No survivors," Leo's eyes go cold and hard. "And no witnesses."

"We'll need a multi-pronged approach," Evan says, "A diversion at the main entrance to pull their resources there. Meanwhile, a smaller team infiltrates from another angle."

"The mountains," I suggest studying the satellite image. "It's rugged terrain, but that works to our advantage. Shifters can navigate it better than humans, especially at night."

"What about once we're inside?" Axl asks. "We don't have the layout. We don't know where they're keeping her."

"We grab someone who knows and make them talk," I say simply.

"Once we have Dahlia, we need a clean exit strategy."

"We can use the helicopter," Evan says decisively. "I can have it on standby. We just need to get Dahlia to a clearing large enough for pickup."

"They'll have anti-aircraft measures," Leo points out.

"Then we'll need to disable them first," Evan counters.

We map out timing, resources, and contingencies. Every scenario ends with Dahlia safely recovered and the facility reduced to rubble.

"We should move fast," I insist. "Every hour she's in there..."

"We move when we're ready," Evan cuts me off. "Not before. Going in half-cocked gets us all killed and leaves Dahlia with no chance of rescue."

As much as it kills me, I know he's right. "Three days," I say. "That's how long we have to pull this together. After that, we move, ready or not."

"We'll be ready," Leo assures me. "I'll coordinate with the tech team, get everything we need for communications and surveillance."

"I'll handle weapons and transport," Evan says. "And medical supplies. We need to be prepared for any condition we might find Dahlia in."

The unspoken fear hangs in the room like a physical presence. What if we're too late? What if Reid has already...

I push the thought away. "I need to make a call..."

I step into the hallway, scrolling through contacts I haven't used in years. Rivera's number sits there, a last resort I never thought I'd need. I hit dial and wait.

"This number is inactive," a mechanical voice announces. Of course. Rivera would change his contact information regularly as the fucking paranoid bastard that he is.

I dial a secure line I memorized years ago. It rings three times before connecting.

"Gateway Pizza, how can I help you?" A bored female voice answers.

"I need to speak with the owner," I say. "Tell him it's Stonefang, and I'm calling about the debt from Calgary."

The line goes silent for nearly a minute. When I think I've been disconnected, a deep, accented voice comes on the line.

"Stonefang. I had not expected to hear from you again." Rivera's voice brings back memories of blood and fire, of a night five years ago when I saved his life and that of his daughter.

"I need you," I say simply. "A government operation has taken my mate. She is in a medical facility in Montana with heavy security."

A low whistle sounds across the line. "You do not ask for small favors, my friend."

"This isn't a favor. I am collecting my blood debt."

Rivera goes quiet again. When he speaks, his voice has dropped an octave. "Tell me everything."

I tell him about Dahlia, about our babies, about what Reid plans to do with them.

"This is suicide," Rivera says when I finish. "Even for someone like me."

"That's why I'm calling," I reply. "You're the only one crazy enough to take this on."

He laughs, a harsh sound with no humor in it. "Flattery, Stonefang? That is not like you."

"It's not flattery if it's true," I counter. "I need your team, your expertise, and your absolute discretion. In return, the blood debt is paid in full."

"The blood debt covers my services," Rivera says. "But my men will require compensation. The risk is exceptional for this type of operation..."

"Money is not a problem," I assure him. "Name your price."

"Two million. Half up front, half on completion." Rivera names a figure that would make most people choke. "Plus another million if we need to engage in direct combat."

"Done," I say without hesitation. "When can you be here?"

"Twenty-four hours. I'll bring my core team. You need to provide local intelligence and additional support personnel."

"We'll be ready," I promise.

"One more thing, Stonefang." Rivera's voice turns deadly serious. "If this is a trap, if there is any deception here, I will kill you before they kill me. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," I reply. "But remember, if you betray us, there won't be a hole deep enough for you to hide in."

He laughs again, this time with genuine amusement. "Your wolf has grown teeth since Calgary. Good. You will need them."

The line goes dead, and I lean against the wall, closing my eyes briefly. Rivera is dangerous, unpredictable, and not entirely sane. But he's also our best chance of getting Dahlia back alive.

"Hold on, baby," I whisper. "We're coming for you."