Chapter 43 Damian
Damian
Cyclone’s fingers flew across the keys, the glow of the laptop painting his face in blue. “Got it,” he muttered. “She sent coordinates. Remote storage facility, a couple of miles off the interstate. Nobody goes out there unless they’ve got something to hide.”
River leaned over his shoulder. “Or unless they’re trying to bait us.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said. My voice came out harder than I meant, but I didn’t care. “If it’s her, if Morgan’s pointing us there—we follow. So we can keep her off the damn computer.”
Roger nodded once, clipped. “Load up.”
The drive was tense, headlights carving through dark stretches of road.
None of us spoke much. My chest felt tight the whole way, the silence filled with things I didn’t want to admit—that I trusted Morgan more than I trusted our intel, that I’d follow her breadcrumbs into hell itself if it meant keeping her safe.
The facility was quiet when we arrived. Too quiet. Chain-link fencing, rusted gates, rows of corrugated steel doors. Cyclone pulled up the feed from a traffic cam half a mile away. “A van pulled in here less than twenty-four hours ago. No record of it leaving.”
River smirked, adrenaline sparking in his eyes. “Now that’s promising. Should we call the authorities?”
We swept the rows, boots crunching over gravel. Nothing moved but shadows and the wind. But then—Cyclone crouched near a unit, his flashlight beam catching on the lock.
“Fresh cut,” he whispered. “Someone’s been here. No time to call the authorities.”
My pulse kicked harder. Morgan’s breadcrumb wasn’t a wild guess—she was right.
Inside, the unit was empty except for a single crate shoved against the wall. Roger pried it open, revealing… nothing. Straw padding. No weapons. No product. Just space where something had been.
River cursed. “They’re always a step ahead.”
Cyclone’s laptop beeped suddenly, shrill in the quiet. His head snapped down, eyes narrowing as he scanned the new feed. Then his mouth pulled into a frown I didn’t like.
“She’s at it again,” he said. “Another breadcrumb. Different coordinates. It’s like she knows we’d find this place stripped.”
I stared at him, heat crawling up my spine. This is way too dangerous for her.”