Chapter Thirty-One
White Ravens
Gage
The Whites’ training arena was designed specifically for them, for a different kind of fight.
The floor had a subtle give, layered with material engineered to announce impact. The air had an ozone-clean scent he didn’t mind and the ceiling grid tracked his every step, calibrating distance as it learned his habits.
The room was segmented and could be reconfigured on command. Panels could rise for cover, drop into pits, or flatten into open space. Simulated targets lived inside the walls until it was time for them to present as threats.
The weapon racks were stocked with his canes in multiple builds, compact and contracting, weighted and balanced, some with integrated stun inserts and sheathed blades.
He also had a buffet of throwing knives and tranquilizer darts.
There were cases of sound pellets in sealed capsules that looked harmless until they were stepped on to reveal his enemy’s exact location.
Scar’s side of the room was his stark opposite, unapologetic and lethal. Pistols, rifles, and semiautomatic firearms were organized in long rows beside dozens of labeled ammo cases.
Today, his lead trainers were Grace—a killer of few words—and his partner Mirage.
Zorion was in the booth giving feedback.
Roz operated in the comms unit with Corvo, Spectre, and Cipher, but he’d needed little direction. His good friend had taken to his handler duties like the gangster he was. Killing and slaying every challenge.
In the simulations, Roz’s voice had navigated him through targets and shifting layouts almost flawlessly, calling turns and timing with street-learned discipline.
Their field support observed from the perimeter, absorbing everything and learning how the Whites Division would operate when it was time.
High above, in the main observation booth, Jo stood with her team behind a wall of reinforced glass. Her presence was suffocating and slightly distracting, since he knew she was there to assess whether he was ready to go into the field with the rest of his brothers.
“All right, that’s enough for today.” Jo’s voice carried over the speakers. “Let’s start ’em both on the final phase.”
Gage’s pulse still pounded, sweat cooling at the nape of his neck, his cane warm from overuse.
“Nicely done, brother. We kicked ass,” Roz said.
“We’ll restart at oh eight hundred. You and Scar. Together. Tomorrow.” Grace said roughly on his way past.
Gage nodded and allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief once the room had cleared.
He brushed his fingertips over the hands on his watch. He still had a few hours until nine o’clock.
He had plans tonight with Scar.
His partner had been in Mozambique with the Blacks for a week, running embassy surveillance and shadowing a diplomat’s security detail.
Scar returned home this morning, and tonight would be the first time they’d have time alone again since…since the night they “fought” each other.
He was nervous.
Not of his own awakening, but of how far Scar would want to go tonight.
Gage believed in the covenant of marriage. A vow he’d make in front of God and witnesses before he gave his body to the person he would spend the rest of his life with.
He’d always wanted to give his spouse something no one else had ever touched, something he’d held back out of devotion, to give himself as his gift on his wedding night.
Now his mind was too loud with wanting…and conviction.
He needed a peaceful place where he could go for prayer and reflection. The kind of meditation that required a quiet so deep it felt as if the world had gone mute, leaving only his breath and the certainty of his beliefs.
But he didn’t know where that kind of place was inside of headquarters. He often sought solace in the Olympic-size pool, doing laps, but he wanted stillness with his silence.
Back in his room, he freshened up and changed before he called for Rose.
He sat in his living room with his Braille Bible open on his lap, rereading his favorite scriptures about honoring the body.
He was mid-verse when he heard a knock at his door.
He got up and crossed his living room to let in his assistant, but the scent he caught made him stop short with his hand frozen on the knob.
He’d been expecting Rose, but that wasn’t who was standing in his hall.
Adrian’s scent was unique and instantly recognizable.
It was the detergent he used, layered with the citrusy-cedar cologne Gage could pinpoint in a crowd of a hundred.
He opened the door slowly.
“Hey,” Adrian said, voice low and easy as always. “Rose said you sounded a little stressed, so I told her I’d come and see what you needed.”
Adrian’s pay grade was far above that of a personal assistant. He wasn’t required to be at his beck and call like Rose and Joshua.
Gage kept his expression neutral. “I need a place to meditate.”
“I know the perfect place.”
“All right,” Gage said, grabbing one of his canes off the hook and stepping out of the door. “Lead the way.”
Adrian stepped closer. “Here, take my arm.”
Gage chuckled. “I’m on my floor. I think I can manage.”
Adrian was silent for a moment before he said. “We’re going to the south wing.”
“I’ll use my cane.”
Halfway down the corridor, Adrian asked, “Do you want to go to church with me tonight? They’re starting a week-long revival.”
“Thanks, but I already have plans,” he smiled.
“With who?”
Gage frowned at Adrian’s abruptness but decided not to take offense.
“With Scar.” He answered softly, hoping he wasn’t blushing. “We’re getting a lot closer. Finally.”
“Gage.” Adrian sounded exasperated. “Scar has a past that you may not be fully aware of. But at the very least, how can you ignore how he used to treat you when—”
Gage stopped dead and snapped his cane up, knocking the cold steel against Adrian’s chest like a blockade. A hard, unyielding line halting not only his next step but the rest of his sentence.
Adrian sucked in sharp breath.
Gage’s voice went from warm to ice-cold. “Do not speak about my partner. Whatever you read about his past on paper doesn’t mean you know who he is.”
He held his cane there a beat longer, letting his point land.
Adrian didn’t say another word.
Gage finally lowered his hand and kept walking.
Adrian followed a few steps behind, but it was clear the easy camaraderie between them had changed that fast.
He could feel the negative energy drifting off Adrian in tangible waves.
They reached another elevator, and when the doors opened, a mechanical voice inside announced: “Green Ravens Resident. Access restricted. Await verification.”
Gage couldn’t stop his smile.
They stood there in silence, and after a few seconds, the computer announced: “Access granted.”
The elevator rose to the top level, and Zorion was standing there when the doors opened.
“Greetings,” he said, sounding just as happy to see him. “Rose messaged me.”
Adrian tried to step forward, but Zorion blocked his path. “I can take him from here.”
Adrian cursed under his breath as the elevator doors closed him inside.
Zorion leaned into him. “Be leery of him, brother. My hawk has a sixth-sense for deception.”
Gage nodded once. He didn’t need Zorion to say anything more.
Zorion began to walk him towards his and Valor’s quarters.
“You can have our den as long as you need. No one will bother you here.”
“Thank you.”
They stopped near a threshold. “Shoes off.” Zorion said.
A set of doors opened with a soft hiss, and Gage felt the immediate shift in his surroundings.
The air tasted different. Mossy and like wet stones. It was so unusually clean. There were no sterilizers, industrial cleansers, or the metallic tartness of too much tech.
The faint sound of trickling water whispered from somewhere to his left, a steady, patient stream that drew him in that direction.
Under his bare feet was cool, woven bamboo padding. He remembered that texture from when he used to meditate in the gym’s sauna.
“This was designed to comfort the beasts inside us,” Zorion whispered as if this space were truly sacred.
Zorion continued guiding him until he touched a vertical garden wall that spanned as far as his hand could reach. Live greenery crawling up a trellis, damp, velvety-lush growth that breathed under his touch.
“You’re almost at the lotus spring.”
He knelt, crawling toward the sound of tranquility and the scent of soft floral sweetness until his fingertips found the edge of a body of water.
It was so warm and soothing. He imagined it glowing a soft blue or green. He flinched when his hand grazed the wide, waxy petals of the lotus blooms floating across the surface.
The soundscapes alternated between gentle winds and distant animal calls, creating the effects of a world that didn’t belong inside a building…but was.
They have a real freakin’ oasis in their quarters!
Plants. Stones. Water. Wood. Nature.
He was definitely going to ask for some upgrades to his rooms after experiencing this.
Zorion left, and Gage moved through the haven alone, his hands and senses taking over.
After several minutes of just being, exploring and existing, he settled on the ground and breathed life into his lungs until he found stillness.
Time blurred.
He didn’t know how long he’d been meditating when the doors hissed again and footsteps rushed toward him.
Zorion’s voice cut through the den’s serenity. “Gage.”
Something in his tone—that he’d never heard reflect fear—made his stomach sink.
“Scar went off grounds,” he said. “His emergency locator was just activated.”
The words hit like a blow to his throat.
He was already moving with his cane in his hand before his thoughts caught up to his panic.
“War room,” Valor said, holding the elevator open for them.