Page 17 of The Sniper (Club Southside #9)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

DANIELS

T he clock was moving too damn fast. Every second that passed without Reyna in his sight was another second too long.

Daniels stood in the Cerberus war room, his jaw clenched so tight he could feel the pulse in his temple. The glow from the monitors cast harsh shadows across the space, reflecting the urgency hanging in the air. Mitch and Anton were working at a breakneck pace. Their fingers flying over keyboards, searching for any lead that would tell them where the hell Artemis had taken Reyna while Fitz and Daniels paced the room.

“She’s somewhere on the south side,” Anton muttered, his voice tight with frustration. “Last known signal from her tracker pinged an abandoned industrial sector before it went dark.”

Daniels inhaled slowly, his fists flexing at his sides. The tracker had been disabled. Artemis wasn’t just good—she was damn near surgical. But there was always something, always a trail.

“We got something.” Mitch straightened from his laptop, shoving his chair back as he turned the screen toward them. A grainy overhead satellite image of an old shipping yard filled the monitor. “Artemis had to use a vehicle to get Reyna out. Traffic cams picked up a blacked-out van turning off I-90 onto an access road near the waterfront. It hasn’t come back out.”

Daniels’s eyes locked onto the screen. “That’s our location.”

Fitz was already moving, grabbing his rifle and checking his gear. “We roll now.”

Daniels didn’t hesitate. He was already strapping on his sidearm and securing extra magazines. “Anton, keep eyes on the location. If they move before we get there, I want to know.”

“On it.”

Mitch grabbed his own gun—there would be rifles and other arms in the SUV—and nodded toward Daniels. “This is a surgical strike. We go in fast, take out anything that moves, and get Reyna the hell out.”

Daniels locked eyes with him. Nothing was more important than getting her out alive.

They moved like wraiths through the night, loading into the blacked-out SUVs that would take them to the shipping yard. Fitz drove like a bat out of hell, the reinforced tires eating up the pavement as the city blurred past them. Daniels could feel the storm building inside him, a lethal mix of focus and fury.

Artemis had crossed the line.

And Daniels was going to make her pay for it.

The shipping yard was dark, towering stacks of rusted containers creating a maze of steel and shadow. The only illumination came from the occasional floodlight, flickering with age.

Daniels stepped out of the SUV, scanning the area. The air was thick with the scent of the lake and diesel, the distant sound of water slapping against the docks, the only noise besides their own breathing.

“She’s here.” He felt it.

Fitz pointed toward a low-slung warehouse near the water’s edge. “Thermal’s picking up heat signatures inside. Four, maybe five hostiles. We go in quiet.”

Daniels gave a curt nod, his mind already calculating the best approach. “Reyna’s priority. We sweep and clear, take-out threats as they come.”

They moved.

Daniels took point, his Glock raised as they wove through the stacked containers, using the shadows as cover. He could hear his own heartbeat, a steady drum against his ribs. The moment they reached the side of the warehouse, Mitch planted a small charge against the rusted door hinges.

There was a muffled blast as the charge went off, and then they were inside.

The first hostile barely had time to react before Daniels put a bullet between his eyes. The second turned, reaching for his weapon, but Fitz dropped him before he could get his finger on the trigger.

Then the real fight started.

Gunfire erupted from deeper inside, bullets sparking off steel as Daniels, Fitz and Mitch pushed forward. A figure darted into the shadows, and Daniels fired, clipping him in the leg. The man collapsed with a scream, writhing in pain.

Daniels didn’t stop. He was hunting.

Where the hell is Reyna?

A sharp crack echoed through the space, followed by a grunt of pain. Daniels turned in time to see Mitch take a hit to the shoulder. He stayed on his feet, returning fire as Fitz provided cover.

Daniels pressed forward, moving through the warehouse with the kind of lethal precision that had kept him alive for years. He cleared a doorway, stepping into what looked like a makeshift interrogation room—and then he saw her.

Reyna was tied to a chair in the center of the room, wrists bound, blood on her lower lip. But her eyes—those fierce eyes—were locked onto him the moment he stepped inside.

Two figures moved behind Reyna—Artemis and another assailant.

Daniels raised his gun, but before he could take the shot, Reyna moved.

In a blur of motion, she yanked her bound hands up and over Artemis’s head, wrapping the rope around the woman’s throat. Artemis choked, stumbling back as Reyna twisted, using the bindings as a weapon, but Artemis was able to free herself.

The assailant lunged for them, but Daniels didn’t hesitate. He surged forward, catching the assailant’s wrist as he reached for his knife. A brutal twist sent the blade clattering to the floor. But Artemis and her goon weren’t done fighting.

Artemis slammed an elbow into his ribs—right where he’d been stabbed days earlier. Pain flared through his side, white-hot and vicious. He gritted his teeth, countering with a punch to her jaw that sent her reeling.

Reyna was already free, kicking the chair back as she grabbed the fallen knife and slashed through the ropes at her ankles.

Artemis recovered fast, her foot lashing out and connecting with Daniels’s knee. He went down to one leg, catching himself before she could take advantage.

Reyna lunged, going for Artemis’s throat.

The two women hit the ground hard, grappling for control. Artemis was good—too good. But Reyna fought like a woman who had nothing left to lose. She twisted, using her smaller frame to her advantage, locking her legs around Artemis’s arm and wrenching hard.

A sharp pop echoed through the room and Artemis screamed and pulled back.

Daniels was already on his feet, his gun aimed at Artemis’s head. “Move, and I put you down.”

For the first time, Artemis hesitated. Her breathing was ragged, her arm hanging uselessly at her side. But then, something flickered in her eyes.

A sharp click from the side. Daniels’s turned to see the assailant with a small detonator in his hand. Daniels fired. The bullet hit its mark, straight between his eyes. The assailant crumpled, the detonator slipping from his grasp as the assailant’s body hit the floor.

When he turned back, Reyna was sagging against the wall, her breath coming fast, and Artemis was nowhere to be seen. He touched his comm unit, “Artemis is not secure. I repeat, Artemis is on the loose.”

Daniels was beside Reyna in an instant, running his hands over her arms, her face—she was alive.

“Daniels,” she whispered, and there was something raw in the way she said his name.

“You’re safe,” he murmured, pulling her against him.

The warehouse was still ringing with the aftermath of gunfire, the smell of blood and sweat thick in the air. But Reyna was here. In his arms. Breathing.

And Daniels had never been more certain of anything in his life—he was never letting her go.

The air inside the warehouse was thick with gunpowder and adrenaline, the scent of blood staining the space like a bad omen. The gunfire had stopped, replaced by the low hum of engines outside as Fitz and Mitch secured the perimeter. But Daniels barely heard any of it. His entire focus was locked on the woman in front of him.

Reyna pushed away from the wall, her wrists raw from the bindings Artemis had used, a thin trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth. She looked fierce, untamed, her body still vibrating with the fight. His fighter. His woman.

He cupped her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

She swallowed hard, her gaze locking onto his with something unreadable. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

That answer wasn’t good enough. Daniels let his eyes roam over her, searching for anything she wasn’t telling him. There was a bruise forming along her jaw, a cut on her lip, but no stab wounds, no bullet holes. Relief loosened the stranglehold on his chest, but only slightly.

He wanted to pull her into him. Wanted to take her somewhere safe and never let her out of his sight again.

But there was still work to do.

Fitz’s voice crackled through the comms. “Daniels, we got a problem.”

Daniels turned, stepping back just enough to put himself between Reyna and whatever was coming next. “Talk to me.”

“There’s no sign of Artemis.”

The words sank like a knife between his ribs. “She was here.”

“Yeah,” Fitz muttered. “But she’s not anymore.”

Daniels clenched his jaw, his grip tightening on his weapon as he stalked out of the room, Reyna right on his heels. He wasn’t surprised, not really. Artemis wasn’t the type to go down easy. Still, she shouldn’t have been able to escape. Not with Cerberus locking this place down.

But she had.

And she’d left something behind.

Daniels reached the warehouse entrance where Fitz, Mitch, and Anton stood near one of the rusted shipping containers. Anton’s face was grim as he held out a small device—a burner phone.

“She left this.”

Daniels took it, flipping it open. One message glowed on the screen.

Close but no cigar. Better luck next time.

Daniels felt Reyna move closer beside him. Her fingers brushed his forearm, reminding him to breathe.

“Arrogant bitch,” Mitch snarled.

“She’s not arrogant,” Reyna said, her voice low. “She’s confident. And she’s playing us.”

Daniels knew she was right. Artemis wasn’t just a killer. She was a strategist. A predator. She’d known exactly how to lead them here, exactly how to keep them occupied while she slipped away.

“She’s toying with us,” Daniels muttered.

Anton adjusted his glasses. “Then why leave a message?”

Daniels stared at the phone, his gut twisting with something dark and certain. “Because this isn’t about just winning. It’s about making us lose.”

Reyna tensed beside him. “She wants to hurt us first.”

Not just hurt. Destroy.

Daniels gritted his teeth, flipping the burner shut and shoving it into his pocket. “We need to move. Now.”

Fitz motioned toward the van parked near the loading dock. “We should check the rest of this place first. See if she left anything else.”

They spread out, sweeping the warehouse for any additional threats, any trace of Artemis. But Daniels already knew they wouldn’t find her.

What they did find made his blood run cold.

A single playing card, taped to the inside of an old shipping crate.

The Queen of Spades.

Daniels tore it free, flipping it over. Scrawled in precise, almost delicate handwriting was a single line:

How much are you willing to lose?

The drive back to Cerberus headquarters was silent, the weight of Artemis’s escape pressing down on them. Daniels kept his hands tight on the wheel, his jaw locked, his mind running a hundred miles an hour.

He’d lost people before. Lost leads, lost fights. But this wasn’t just about the job anymore.

This was personal.

When they pulled into the underground garage, Reyna reached for the door handle, but Daniels caught her wrist before she could get out.

She turned to him, brow furrowing. “Daniels?”

He stared straight ahead, the dim lighting of the garage casting sharp shadows across the dashboard. He should say something. Should reassure her. Should promise her they’d take Artemis down.

But all he could think about was that message.

How much are you willing to lose?

He let out a rough breath, turning to face her. “We’re going to end this.”

Reyna studied him, her dark eyes unreadable. “I know.”

“No,” he said, gripping her wrist tighter. “You don’t.” He searched her face, trying to find the right words. Trying to make her understand. “This isn’t just another op, Reyna. She’s not just after Rowe or Hartley or some revenge hit list.”

Reyna nodded. “She’s after everyone on the trafficking team she holds responsible for her sister being taken by traffickers.”

“She’s going to make us bleed before she takes the final shot.”

Reyna swallowed hard, her pulse jumping beneath his grip as she steadied herself. But then, something shifted. The hesitation vanished, replaced by something fierce. Unshakable.

She reached up, placing her free hand against his chest, right over his heart. “Then we make sure she doesn’t get the chance.”

Daniels felt his breath catch, just for a second.

Reyna never let her guard down. But right now? She was letting him in.

Slowly, deliberately, he released her wrist, letting his hand trail down to lace their fingers together. “You trust me?”

Her grip tightened. “With my life.”

Daniels held her gaze. “And your heart?”

She hesitated, the question hanging between them, raw and real. But then she did something that knocked the breath out of his lungs.

She leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his lips.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate.

It was intentional.

And it was everything.

When she pulled back, her voice was steady. “Yeah, Daniels. With my heart, too.”

Daniels closed his eyes for a beat, letting the words settle in his chest like a brand. When he opened them again, he was certain of one thing.

Artemis had no idea what she’d just done.

Because now? Now she wasn’t just after the traffickers and Cerberus. She was after the woman he knew was his. And Daniels never lost what was his.