Page 85 of Sam's Salvation

“Max and Dean will find him.”

“No. This is my op. That bastard isn’t getting away.” She stuffed the earpiece into her ear and stuck the small mic on her collar.

“Aud—”

“You can’t stop me, Sam. You’re welcome to come along, but you can’t stop me.”

With a curse, he got up. “Give me the box.”

She handed it to him, then headed for the door.

“Audra, would you wait?”

She hesitated a couple of seconds while he scrambled to take out a set of comms. Once he had both pieces, she stepped out of the van and took off to the north. A few moments later, she heard the thud of his shoes on the pavement, and he soon caught up to her.

“Babe, slow down. You need to keep your head about you.” He grabbed her wrist, slowing her. “We can’t go into this without a plan. It’ll get us killed.”

She sucked a breath in through her nose, his touch grounding her some. “You’re right. We need to approach with caution.” She shook her hand free. “When we get there.” She took off running again. Her hip twinged, but she pushed through it. It was just pain. The joint was sound.

They rounded the corner and passed the end of the scrapyard’s fence. It butted up to the taller chain link fencing surrounding the Powells’ warehouse property.

Sam activated his mic. “Max, Dean, we’re outside to the north. You see him?”

“No. It’s a maze in here,” Max said.

“Let’s find an opening and get inside. We can help search.” Audra began walking, pushing on the chain link at each pole they passed to see if it was loose.

At one of them, the fencing pushed inward. “Here.” She hooked her fingers over the metal and shook it. “I think it’s loose enough we can get under.”

Sam bent down and grabbed near the bottom, pushing it up and in. “Go.”

Audra slithered under the fence. On the other side, she grasped the metal and leaned back with all of her weight, pulling it back as far as she could so that Sam could get his larger frame under it.

His shirt caught, but he made it under and freed himself.

“You all right?” she asked.

He nodded. “Let’s go.”

They crept into the yard with cautious steps. Sirens blipped in the distance and angry male voices carried through the night air. The raid was in full swing. She hoped Moran was all right and had stopped Simon and Geoffrey from getting away.

“Jesus, Max was right. This place is insane.” Sam glanced from side-to-side as they entered the sea of ISO containers.

“We need to split up.”

“No way. I’m flypaper on your backside, sweetie.”

She huffed a laugh. “Nice imagery. But seriously, we’ll cover more ground separately. And I’m armed.” She removed the gun from her waist holster and held it at her side. The FBI had allowed her to carry a weapon, but refused it for Sam and his team since they were civilians. She knew they didn’t need them to capture someone or protect themselves. They were just as deadly barehanded.

“Doesn’t matter, babe. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

She sighed. He wasn’t giving in. Instead of wasting time arguing, she waded deeper into the containers. “I am a trained operative, you know,” she whispered as they came to a junction.

“Yep.”

“And I can take care of myself.”

“I know. Which way are we going?”