The mercenaries panicked.
Their formation collapsed.
They returned fire desperately, but they could not match the bikers’ speed, aggression, and sheer madness.
Mendoza realized the situation had slipped completely out of his control.
His perfect plan was being crushed beneath spinning motorcycle tires.
“Fall back!” he screamed.
“Get in the vehicles!”
He turned and ran toward the only SUV still intact.
Cole had no intention of letting him escape.
Using the chaos as cover, Cole forced himself upright and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.
Then he charged.
Like an enraged predator, he sprinted toward Mendoza, jumped onto the hood of the SUV, and drove a brutal kick into the Syndicate leader’s chest.
Mendoza flew backward.
His head slammed against the gravel.
His weapon spun from his hand.
Cole was on him instantly.
Scarred hands seized the expensive shirt around Mendoza’s collar.
Cole dragged his head off the ground and began hammering his fist into the man’s face.
Again.
And again.
Each blow carried eight years of rage.
One for Sarah’s shattered peace.
One for the damage done to Leo.
One for every brother whose blood had been spilled.
“Talk!”
Cole grabbed Mendoza by the collar and shook him violently.
“Where is Rravhem?!”
His eyes burned red with fury.
“Tell me, you bastard, or I swear I’ll break every bone in your body!”
Mendoza coughed blood and spat several broken teeth onto the ground.
He looked around.
His mercenaries had been overwhelmed.
Some were lying wounded.
Others were on their knees, disarmed, with gun barrels pressed against their heads.
The arrogance had vanished from Mendoza’s face.
“The... abandoned industrial scrapyard...” he gasped.
His voice was barely audible.
“In the Mojave Valley.”
He coughed again.
“We’re holding him there... beneath the old foundry. We were waiting for the ledger...”
Cole stared at him for a moment.
Then he gave a cold grunt.
His fist came down one final time against Mendoza’s temple.
The Syndicate leader went limp.
Cole stood slowly, breathing hard, and wiped the sweat from his face.
Around him, the battlefield was filled with groans, smoke, and the bitter smell of burned gunpowder.
Nomad walked over and slapped Cole hard on the shoulder.
“We make it in time, brother?”
Cole gave him a faint grin.
“Three minutes later than I expected.”
He glanced around at the wreckage.
“But I guess you’ll do.”
Cole turned and hurried toward the ruined entrance of the diner.
Wyatt had already pushed the industrial freezer away from the door.
Inside, Sarah and Leo were still clinging to each other.
Both were trembling.
But they were alive.
When Sarah saw Cole walk through the doorway unharmed, relief overwhelmed her.
She burst into tears.
Then she reached inside her shirt and pulled out the tiny black Micro-SD card.