Chapter 56
Bane
Len flashes me a look filled with exasperation, but I shrug. If she didn’t want me to actually use a rocket launcher, then she shouldn’t have given me an actual rocket launcher. Especially when it’s my woman’s safety in the crosshairs.
As soon as I buckle Slade in, Len lifts us into the air.
I take Slade’s earpiece out, disconnecting her from Digits and Sam, then put the headset on her so we can talk if that’s what she wants.
She’s a bit clammy, her hair sticks to her forehead, and she looks flushed.
I’m not sure if it’s from the adrenaline rush and her rally car driving to get here or if the reality of everything is starting to crush in on her.
She grips my hand. “Your bike.”
The fact that she’s concerned about that makes me smile.
“Army will take it and your car back to the compound using the truck and trailer.”
“Camber and Pix?”
Using my thumb, I brush her hair sideways on her forehead. “They’re fine. Ditching the cars and heading back to the compound as we speak.”
She eases into me and glances at Len flying this contraption. From the little I know of Len, she’s not overly chatty—she’s cool and aloof, and tells it how it is, much like Army. However, her smile is warm and reassuring when she looks over her shoulder at Slade. “Good to meet you, Slade. I’m Len.”
“Thank you for helping me.”
Len’s blue eyes darken, but her smile remains. “We’ll talk more once we land.”
“Where are we going?” I ask her for the third time.
She shrugs, like all the other times. “Someplace off-grid.”
We fall silent as we fly, and Slade closes her eyes.
With the adrenaline crash and the rhythmic thud of the rotating blades, she soon falls asleep.
For the next twenty minutes, I watch the skies for incoming threats and try to get a sense of where we’re going.
I trust Army implicitly, and he trusts Len.
But my trust in her only goes so far, especially when it comes to the woman who has become my everything.
We leave the ocean and the coastline behind and fly over tall trees in a mountainous, forested area that might be Boggs Mountain.
Len begins to descend, guiding us into a burned-out area among the pines.
Slade doesn’t stir as Len shuts down the chopper.
I unbuckle us, take off the headsets, scoop up Slade, and crawl out.
Len scans the forest for hidden threats, then motions for me to follow and leads us to an SUV concealed in the bushes. When I lay Slade down in the backseat, her eyes flutter open. She reaches for me, suddenly wide awake, and I hug her close after I climb in.
“We’ll be there in about ten minutes,” Len says as she backs us out of the hiding spot.
Slade studies our surroundings as we bump over what barely passes for a road, with thick trees closing in on either side.
When Len turns off the road-slash-trail, she drives the SUV deeper into the undergrowth, then stops.
We get out, and she pulls branches into place to hide the vehicle while Slade and I ruffle the long grass, covering any sign that we came through here.
After Len is satisfied, she turns to us. “Stay close to me. Step as close as possible to where I step.”
Slade hikes a brow. “Landmines?”
One side of Len’s mouth curls. “Tripwires, but I like how you think.”
Slade follows her, and I bring up the rear. We remain silent as we walk until we reach a small clearing, and Len strides toward a log cabin.
Slade stops dead.
I wasn’t aware we were going to a cabin and hadn’t prepared her.
Her eyes are wide, and I can tell she’s being flung back to Antwane’s cabin of hell. I step in front of her, getting low so I’m eye-level with her and cup her head.
“Stay with me, Slade. This isn’t Antwane’s cabin. You’re safe. This is Len’s off-grid place where we’re going to stay for a bit.”
I hear Len curse as she realizes what’s happening, but my sole attention is Slade. “Baby, look at me.” I pull her flush against me so she has maximum contact with my body. “Slade, look at me.”
Her green eyes slowly lift to mine. There’s a haze of panic and terror in those eyes, but as she focuses on me, it starts to clear. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.
My hands on her tighten. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“It’s me who’s sorry, Slade,” Len says. “I didn’t even think.”
Slade shakes her head and steps back. I give her the freedom to do so but take her hand. “I’m okay.”
Len studies her to make sure, then turns on her heel and leads us up the stairs to the front door.
She punches in a code and angles her face toward a panel beside the door, which I assume is a biometric scanner.
When the lock clicks, she pulls the thick, heavy door open.
The door looks heavy as hell, plus the fact that it swings outward, instead of inward, tells me someone put serious thought into making this log cabin as impenetrable possible.
That eases some of my worry.
Slade walks in ahead fo me and looks around.
A fireplace is the main feature of the open-concept space, which combines the living room and kitchen. It’s sparsely furnished, but the furniture appears to be of high quality. There are no knick-knacks or other mementos; this is strictly a safe house.
Slade wanders to the doorway that opens off the living room, likely the bedroom, and Len opens the fridge to show me it’s fully stocked.
“Who’s safe house is this?” I ask.
“Does it matter?” Len closes the fridge. Seeing that I’m not dropping this, she sighs. “It belongs to a friend.” My expression hardens, and she adds, “Adamus Jones.”
My jaw basically falls to the floor. “How are you friends with a notorious arms dealer? One who is a bit insane when it comes to blowing shit up?”
Not to mention, the guy is essentially a ghost, periodically popping up with other dark tales connected to his name.
Len rolls her eyes. “Through my days in the CIA, obviously.”
“And he knows we’re here and is fine with it?”
Slade walks over to me, looking at me with a questioning look, and I wrap my arm around her waist.
“Yes, Jones is both aware and fine with it. Don’t worry about him walking in and shooting you in the ass while you’re taking a piss.”
I half-grunt, half-laugh.
“You kids gonna be okay?”
“You’re not staying?” Slade asks Len, surprised.
Len snorts. “Not with the pheromones this one”—she jerks her thumb at me—“is emitting. I don’t need to see Army’s best friend busting a nut.”
Slade chokes on a laugh, and I decide I’m definitely a fan of Len.
“But my team and I are staying close by,” Len continues. “We have the tech equipment setup there so we can monitor the perimeter here, as well as continue digging into this shitshow with Randolph Vanderall.”
“What have you found so far?” I ask.
“It looks like it’s only Randolph himself, not his family, involved in taking out the contract with the Broker.
Nothing has been leaked publicly; the only chatter about this is in the criminal underworld.
According to our intel, there have been several sightings of criminals not normally from San Francisco, so either there’s a G8 Summit for Crime Lords or… ”
“They’re here, hunting for me,” Slade finishes.
“We’ll help keep an eye on the Havoc Guardians,” Len reassures. “But I hope you guys are prepared for whatever might be coming your way.”
With that helpful little nugget, Len strides to the door. “Keep the shutters on the windows closed. Try to keep inside as much as you can; the walls block infrared technology, so no one can tell you’re in here, but outside, you’re fair game.”
“What about heat?” I ask, looking pointedly fireplace.
“You can light a fire; no one will know you’re here.”
“How?” I ask doubtfully.
“There’s a modified flue system that redirects the smoke just before it would reach the chimney—it goes down into an underground trench where it slowly vents and cools. Don’t ask me about Jones’s technology, but he swears by it, and that the chimney on the cabin is merely for show.”
She pushes open the door and eyes Slade, then me. “I’ll be back in a few hours, and hopefully, we’ll have a game plan.”
I pull Slade into me as Len leaves. “You okay?”
She nods and curls into me, but I see her lie. My girl is anything but okay.