Danger Squad Novels & Stories

🌹 Damien 🌹 The underground safehouse was dimly lit, the harsh fluorescent lights flickering intermittently as the team settled into a rare moment of calm. The air was thick with exhaustion, the weight of their near-constant battle settling heavily on each member of the group. Damien leaned against a table, eyes closed, taking in the muffled sounds of distant gunfire and the steady hum of the bunker’s generators. It had been a long day—too long. The chaos of the mission still lingered in his mind, but for the first time in days, the team had found a brief window to breathe. They were alive. For now, that was enough.

Hudson scoffed and said maliciously, “He cares a lot about his wife. Let’s start with Darcy then. Give Dane a call. Dallas Moneylender can pave the way. I want her assets, but I will make the game long and hard for her. “I don’t care whether the idiot is a psycho or not. I want to drive him mad.” It did not seem to Hudson that Kaze was mentally ill. The mental illness was more like a cover-up for him to act recklessly. Hudson definitely had a keen eye. The injured security officers working for Quartet Group were admitted to the hospital. Business resumed as usual at the organization. A group then walked in, demanding to see Darcy. The leader of the group was a grizzle-haired man. He was Dane

The safehouse war room smells of instant coffee, gun oil, and the faint ozone burn of overworked laptops. Damian stands at the head of the folding table, sleeves rolled to the elbows, bandage stark white against his forearm. Maps of Lagos glow on the screens behind him, red pins marking Horizon safehouses, blue dots for our assets. Three team members hover nearby, silent, waiting for orders.

Dangerous. Patrons and staff of SubTerra used only one word to describe Jon Moretti; dangerous. He was one of many dangerous men who walked through the clandestine establishment, and yet Jon Moretti was the one they warned her about. Career criminals, thieves, arsonists, gang members, murderers… the club was a prestigious hub, built specifically to give these menacing people a place where, ironically, they could feel safe. A place they knew police officers wouldn’t be barging through the door to arrest them, thanks to a low-key business agreement between the owner, Frank Muscovado, and some crooked government officials with the power to sweep the booming business under the rug.

“Not the highlight of my week, I must admit.” Dante’s body vibrated with tension. It lined his jaw and coiled beneath his skin, like a viper waiting to strike. “Did he do anything else?” I shook my head. Oxygen thinned by the second, making each word difficult, but I pushed forward. “Security got there before anyone was hurt. I’m okay. Really.” The last word pitched higher than the rest. The muscle in his jaw ticked again. “You’re shaking.” Was I? I checked. Yes, I was.

The gun slipped from his grip and skidded across the floor, far out of reach. Thomas slowly opened his eyes, confusion filling his mind as he realized he was unharmed. A wave of immense relief washed over him, and without wasting time, he quickly got up from the floor. Meanwhile, Mr. Hawthorne deftly lifted Mr. Merrick’s body. Their eyes met in the shared darkness. “Stop this, Dominic,” Mr. Hawthorne said, gripping his opponent’s collar tightly. “Stop? Do you think this can just be stopped? You’re the one who started all this, Kinsley.”

I would first uncover his angle and then proceed from there. The elevator ride up to the sixth floor felt like I would be in there forever. My heels drummed a restless rhythm against the carpet, each tap echoing the frantic nature of my thoughts as I tried to decipher Kade's move. When the doors finally slid open, I spotted the security guard at the end of the hall, near Suite 6. He was a lean man scrolling on his phone with a bored expression. His head snapped up, startled, as I approached. Before he could utter a word, I pushed past him, my heels clicking loudly on the polished floor.

the same policeman tells us curtly as we walk up to him, and he leads me to the same room, the room that might just give me nightmares. Thank fuck I'm not claustrophobic, or I wouldn't know how I'd handle this fucking room with no furniture except a table and three chairs, blank walls, blank everything. "Good for you that you came back." the policeman says and I read his name tag - Daniel. Honestly, he looks like the type of dick that takes his anger out on black dudes. And women. And well, everyone who gets in his fucking way. I just nod in answer, Biden told me not to speak unless absolutely necessary.

She would usually go through with every dare, and had a pretty hot streak going. "Becky the daredevil!" Steve chanted excitedly. That was her name, and she was proud of it. Steve looked at Becca and Demitri, smirking. He then whispered something into Kendra's ear. Kendra laughed and Becca started regretting her choice.

Adrian keeps still because everything in him wants to ask too much, too fast, and he has done enough damage with wanting. Sarah finally turns. “Wait here.” He waits. The lobby continues around him. Every person who passes feels like a witness. He is aware of the glass doors, the security desk, the elevator lights, and the street behind him. It is public. Visible. Impossible to mistake for one of the hidden places where he has been brave enough to want Julian and too cowardly to choose him. After several minutes, Sarah returns. Julian is with her. Adrian’s breath catches before he can stop it.