Chapter 55 Adam
Adam
I’d stood on a hundred battlefields. Some burned, some drowned, some littered with more bodies than I could count. But I had never stood on one that had been wiped clean—scrubbed like it never happened.
That chilled me more than the bullets had.
The Rangers had already pulled out, taking their reports and their questions back to Austin.
My men and I gathered in the motel’s back lot, the weak light buzzing from a flickering lamp overhead.
Raine was inside, finally resting. I needed her safe—for one damn night—while I sorted through the pieces.
Hawk leaned against the hood of the SUV, his arm strapped tight but his eyes sharp.
Russ had a file spread across the roof, notes scrawled in his tight handwriting.
Blade stood a few feet off, knife in hand, whittling a stick down to nothing.
Logan hovered on the edge of the circle, close enough to listen, far enough to remind us he wasn’t one of us. Not yet.
“They weren’t amateurs,” Russ said, tapping the file. “Every casing, every shell, every body. Gone. That takes manpower and planning.”
“And resources,” Hawk added. “You don’t scrub a ridge in the middle of a storm without backup. Whoever did this had gear. Vehicles. Night vision. We were lucky they didn’t get to the people in the vans. But the vans later disappeared.”
“Military,” Blade said flatly, not looking up from the knife.
The word hung heavy.
I rubbed a hand over my jaw, every muscle tight. “The question isn’t just who could pull it off. It’s who benefits from leaving no trace.”
Logan finally spoke. “Someone higher up the chain. It could be cartel connections inside law enforcement. It could be military contractors. Hell, could be both.”
I shot him a look, sharp enough to cut. “And you know this how?”
He met my gaze head-on, jaw tight. “Because I’ve seen it before. Overseas. You run into a fight you’re not supposed to win? Sometimes the cleanup’s faster than the firefight.”
Hawk grunted. “He’s not wrong.”
I hated that. Hated agreeing with him. But my gut said the same thing.
“Whoever they are,” I said, voice low, “they tested us. Measured our response. And now they’ve erased the evidence.”
Russ’s gaze darkened. “Which means they’re planning something bigger.”
I looked at each man in turn, my team, battered but unbroken. Then at Logan, the outsider who might prove to be an asset—or a liability that gets us all killed.
“Fine,” I said. “We dig. Quiet. Off the books. No comms, no paper trail. We follow the money, the orders, the ghosts. And when we find who left us to die on that ridge…”
I let the silence finish the sentence.
Because they all knew what I meant.
This wasn’t over.
Not by a long shot.