Page 10 of The Sniper (Club Southside #9)
CHAPTER TEN
DANIELS
T wo days later, the dark silhouette of the warehouse loomed ahead, its broken windows gleaming faintly under the pale moonlight. Orion had been spotted entering the warehouse. With no time to put a team in place, Reyna had made the decision to follow up on the lead. Daniels felt he had no choice but to back her up.
He parked the SUV a block away, cutting the engine to preserve their cover. The muffled hum of the city faded behind them as the pair slipped into the shadows, weapons holstered but ready. He didn’t like this. The location, the silence, the too-convenient lead—all of it screamed setup.
But they had no choice.
Daniels glanced at Reyna as they crouched behind a stack of rusted barrels, her lean figure coiled with energy. She’d swapped her usual leather jacket for a matte-black tactical vest, her blonde hair covered by a dark cap. Even in the dim light, her sharp blue eyes darted over the scene with lethal precision.
“South entrance is clear,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Too clear,” Daniels muttered, scanning the warehouse exterior. “I don’t like it.”
“You’re not supposed to,” she said, checking her Glock with practiced efficiency. “But we’re here now. Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”
Despite his instincts screaming at him to turn back, Daniels nodded. They moved in tandem, their steps nearly silent on the gravel. The closer they got to the warehouse, the more his unease grew. There were no guards, no movement, no sound but the faint creak of metal in the breeze. It was too quiet.
Daniels reached the south door first, his gloved hand brushing against the rough steel. He gestured for Reyna to cover him as he tested the handle. Unlocked. That, too, was suspicious. He glanced back at her, his dark eyes meeting hers in silent agreement. Something was wrong.
They stepped inside, the faint scent of oil and decay hitting him instantly. The space was massive, the ceiling disappearing into darkness above. Crates and machinery were scattered across the floor, casting jagged shadows in the faint light filtering through the broken and dirty windows. Daniels’ hand tightened around his sidearm, his ears straining for any sound beyond their footsteps.
“Cover left,” he whispered, his voice low.
Reyna nodded, slipping into the shadows. Daniels moved toward the center of the room, his movements slow and deliberate. Every instinct he had was on high alert, the air charged with something unspoken. He would have liked to have been able to put Reyna up in the rafters with her beloved sniper rifle. He told himself she would have been safer, but truth to tell, since Reyna was one of the best snipers he’d ever known, he would have been safer as well. He scanned the space, his gaze catching on a large wooden crate near the far wall. A faint flicker of light spilled from behind it, drawing his focus.
“Reyna,” he called softly, tilting his head toward the light. She joined him seconds later, her steps so silent he barely registered her presence until she was beside him.
“I’ll take point,” she said, her voice calm but firm.
Daniels frowned. “No, you...”
“Daniels,” she interrupted, her gaze cutting to his. “I’m faster, and you know it. I’ll signal if it’s clear.”
He hated that she was right, but there was no time to argue. With a reluctant nod, he watched as she disappeared into the shadows, her movements fluid and precise. His grip tightened on his weapon as he scanned the room, every second stretching into an eternity.
Then, it happened. A faint click echoed through the warehouse, followed by the low hum of machinery. Daniels barely had time to register the sound before the room was flooded with blinding light. He spun, his gun raised, but before he could react further, a deafening clang echoed behind him. The door slammed shut.
“Reyna!” he called, his voice sharp.
“I’m fine!” she shouted from somewhere beyond the crates. But her voice was strained, and it didn’t take long for Daniels to understand why. The air was suddenly alive with movement—figures emerging from the shadows, armed and purposeful. They were trapped.
Daniels dropped to one knee, firing at the first figure to step into view. His shot hit center mass, the man crumpling to the floor. A second assailant darted toward him, but Daniels was faster, disarming him with a swift strike before landing a brutal kick to the chest.
He caught a glimpse of Reyna out of the corner of his eye, her lithe form moving like a shadow as she engaged two attackers at once. She ducked under a swing, her elbow driving into one man’s ribs before she delivered a sharp kick to the other’s knee. Daniels smiled, reminding himself she was good at what she did. The woman was lethal, and it would take a hell of a lot to bring her down.
But their assailants just kept coming; their numbers were overwhelming. More figures poured into the room, and Daniels realized they were being herded—separated. His jaw tightened as two men cut him off from Reyna, forcing him toward the far wall.
“Daniels!” she called, her voice carrying a rare note of urgency.
“I’m fine!” he shot back, even as he ducked a punch and drove his knee into his attacker’s stomach. The second man lunged at him, a knife glinting in the harsh light. Daniels sidestepped, grabbing the man’s wrist and twisting until the blade clattered to the ground. He finished with a sharp strike of his gun to the man’s temple, his body dropping like a stone.
But when he turned, Reyna was gone.
The realization hit him like a gut punch, his heart hammering in his chest as he scanned the room. She was nowhere to be seen, and the attackers were regrouping, their movements coordinated. They were stalling, keeping him occupied while they dealt with her.
“Reyna!” he shouted, his voice echoing in the cavernous space.
No answer.
A surge of fury roared through him, sharpening his focus. Whoever had set this trap had made a fatal mistake. They’d underestimated both of them. Daniels moved with lethal precision, dispatching the remaining men with brutal efficiency. Each strike, each shot was calculated, his training taking over as he cleared a path through the chaos.
When the last man fell, Daniels didn’t hesitate. He sprinted toward the direction he’d last seen Reyna, his mind racing. The warehouse was a labyrinth, the narrow corridors lined with crates and machinery. He rounded a corner, his breath catching when he heard the faint sound of a struggle.
“Let go of me, you bastard!” Reyna’s voice rang out, defiant even in the face of danger.
Daniels pushed harder, his boots pounding against the concrete as he followed the sound. He burst into a smaller room at the back of the warehouse, his gun raised. Two men had Reyna pinned against a wall, her arms restrained as she fought to break free.
“Hey!” Daniels barked, his voice a cold command.
The men barely had time to react before Daniels fired, his shots precise and lethal. They dropped instantly, their bodies hitting the floor with a dull thud. Reyna staggered forward, her breathing ragged as she clutched her side.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice tight.
“I’ve had better nights,” she muttered, wincing as she forced herself upright. “But we need to move. I saw explosives—this place is about to blow.”
Daniels’ pulse ratcheted up, but he didn’t waste time questioning her. He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the exit, their footsteps pounding against the concrete. The sharp crack of smaller detonations echoed behind them, warning them they needed to run faster.
They barely cleared the threshold before the first explosion tore through the warehouse, a shockwave of heat and force slamming into them. Daniels instinctively wrapped his arms around Reyna, twisting to shield her as they hit the ground. Debris rained down, the air was thick with smoke and the acrid smell of burning metal.
When the chaos finally subsided, Daniels pulled back, his dark eyes scanning her for injuries. “You sure you’re okay?”
Reyna nodded, though her expression was grim. “I’m fine. But whoever set that trap wanted us dead. This isn’t just about Veda anymore.”
Daniels helped her to her feet, his jaw tightening as he surveyed the burning wreckage behind them. Whoever was behind this was playing a dangerous game, and they’d just raised the stakes.
“Then we make them regret it,” he said, his voice low and steady.
Reyna met his gaze, a flicker of determination in her eyes. “Damn right we do.”
Daniels pressed his back against the cool concrete wall, his Glock held steady in his hand. The night was quiet again, but it was the kind of quiet that preceded chaos. He stole a glance at Reyna crouched beside him, her sharp eyes scanning the empty street beyond the wreckage of the warehouse. She was all sharp edges and unwavering focus, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath.
This wasn’t the first time they’d been ambushed, and Daniels knew it wouldn’t be the last. But something about the near disaster inside the warehouse had struck him harder than he wanted to admit. Knowing Reyna was dragged off into the shadows, hearing the venom laced with fear in her voice as she fought to break free had ripped through him with a ferocity he’d never forget.
“You good?” he asked, his voice low but steady as he glanced at her.
Reyna nodded, though her jaw was tight. “I’m fine. Just bruises.”
Daniels wasn’t convinced. He could see the faint tremor in her fingers as she adjusted her grip on her weapon. She wasn’t rattled often, but this had come too close. And that fact was settling in his chest like a live grenade.
“Reyna, look at me,” he said, his tone sharper than he intended.
Her head snapped toward him, her brow furrowing. “I said I’m fine, Daniels. You don’t have to babysit me.”
“This isn’t about babysitting,” he snapped back, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “You scared the hell out of me back there.”
She blinked, the irritation in her expression faltering. “I handled it.”
“Barely,” Daniels bit out, his grip tightening on the Glock at his side. “Do you even realize what could’ve happened if I hadn’t gotten to you in time?”
Her shoulders stiffened, and for a moment, he thought she was going to tell him off. But instead, she let out a slow breath, her gaze softening just enough to unnerve him. “I know what could’ve happened. I was there, remember?”
Daniels felt his chest constrict. She was always like this—tough, deflective, unwilling to let anyone see the cracks in her armor. But he saw them. He always saw them. And every time she threw herself into the fire, she took a piece of him with her.
“Reyna,” he said, his voice low and rough. “This isn’t just about the job anymore. You know that, don’t you?”
Her lips parted, and for a split second, he saw something flicker in her eyes—vulnerability, maybe, or a hesitation she rarely allowed herself. But before she could respond, a faint sound caught both their attention.
“Stay here,” he ordered, moving toward the sound before she could argue.
“Like hell,” Reyna muttered, falling into step behind him.
They moved as one, their footsteps nearly silent on the damp pavement. The glow of the flames from the warehouse cast eerie shadows across the ground, and as they rounded the corner, Daniels froze. There, illuminated by the flickering light, was a stark message scrawled on the wall in what looked like black spray paint.
You’re too late.
The words sent a chill down his spine, and he felt Reyna step closer, her breath catching as she read the message.
“Sonofabitch,” she muttered. “They knew we’d come.”
Daniels didn’t respond. His mind was already racing, analyzing the scene, looking for anything that might give them a clue. The spray paint was fresh, the edges of the letters still dripping down the wall under the light. Whoever had left it had been here minutes ago—maybe even seconds.
“They’re playing with us,” Reyna said, her voice tight with frustration. “Taunting us.”
“Or warning us,” Daniels said grimly, his gaze sweeping over the area. “This wasn’t just an ambush. It was another message.”
Reyna’s jaw clenched, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “One more piece of the puzzle, Daniels. One more piece of the puzzle.”
Before Daniels could respond, a faint vibration buzzed against his hip. He pulled his phone from his pocket, the screen glowing with an incoming message. It wasn’t from the Bureau or Cerberus, but an unknown number. His gut twisted as he opened it.
A photo.
It was blurry, but the image was unmistakable: a snapshot of Reyna fighting one of her attackers inside the warehouse. The angle was wrong—high up, like it had been taken from the rafters. Someone had been watching them.
“What is it?” Reyna asked, stepping closer.
Daniels turned the phone toward her, his expression grim. “They were inside with us.”
Her eyes widened as she stared at the photo. “How the hell?—?”
“Someone on the inside tipped them off,” Daniels said, his voice like steel.
Reyna’s mouth tightened, and he could see the wheels turning in her head, the same thought crossing her mind that had just slammed into his. That either Cerberus, Club Southside, or the Bureau wasn’t safe.
“We need to move,” he said, pocketing his phone. “Get back to Cerberus. Now.”
Reyna nodded, her usual bravado muted by the weight of what they’d just uncovered. She fell into step beside him as they made their way back to the SUV, her silence more telling than any argument she could’ve made.
As Daniels slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, he cast a quick glance at her. She was staring out the window, her hands resting in her lap but clenched tight enough that her knuckles were pale.
“We’ll figure this out,” he said, his voice steady.
Her gaze flicked to him, something raw and unguarded flashing in her eyes before she nodded. “We have to.”
Daniels didn’t respond. He tightened his grip on the wheel, his jaw set as he drove into the night. The killer had made their move, and now it was his turn. Whoever was behind this had made a mistake—because Daniels wasn’t just fighting for the case anymore.
He was fighting for Reyna. For their friends. And he wouldn’t stop until he brought the entire operation crashing down.
Behind them, the flames of the warehouse flickered one last time before fading into the darkness, leaving only the chilling message on the wall as a reminder: the real game was only just beginning.