Chapter 63
Adam
The SUV rolled to a stop two blocks from the clinic. The air was heavy with desert heat, the night pressing close, quiet in that way that set every instinct on edge.
Through the windshield, the building looked harmless enough—one story, brick faded to pale pink, a sun-bleached sign that read WESTSIDE FAMILY MEDICAL. No cars in the lot except a dusty sedan and a beat-up van with clinic plates.
Too clean. Too quiet.
I scanned the shadows, every muscle coiled tight. “This stinks.”
Hawk killed the engine and checked the mirrors. “No guards. No lights except reception. Either we’re lucky… or we’re walking into a setup.”
“Never been lucky,” Blade muttered, his knife already palmed.
Russ adjusted the earpiece we weren’t supposed to be using—local comms only, short range. “Heat signatures inside. Four, maybe five. Small staff for a place with this kind of supply trail.”
“Means the real work isn’t happening here,” I said. “This place funnels product out. Maybe holds until transport.”
I turned in my seat. Raine sat beside me, pale in the glow of the dash, but steady. Logan’s jaw was tight, his eyes flicking between her and me like he wanted to lock her in the SUV.
“This isn’t a spectator sport,” Logan growled.
“Good,” Raine shot back, voice low but firm. “Because I’m not here to spectate. Are you forgetting I was a Captain in the Air Force two months ago? I’m not a baby who needs her hand held.
I almost smiled—damn woman. But there was no time for it.
“Alright,” I said, pulling the suppressed Glock from its holster. The room stilled as I laid out the plan. “Hawk, Russ — entry point rear. Blade, you’re with me on the front. Logan, you stick close to Russ. Raine, you stay with me.”
Logan started to argue, but one look shut him up.
“We breach quiet,” I continued. “Sweep first floor, secure staff. Russ, you dig through their records. Hawk, find the supply inventory. Blade, you clear storage. If we find evidence, we tag it, photo it, move. No heroics. We are in and out.”
Blade tilted his head, voice like ice. “And if we find more than staff?”
My grip tightened on the Glock. “Then we burn it down.”
The SUV filled with silence. They all knew I wasn’t talking about fire.
I looked at Raine one last time, her eyes locked on mine, unflinching. My chest tightened. She didn’t belong in this world, not really. But she rescued people from floods and other disasters. She has seen horror up close.
And if hell waited behind those clinic doors, I’d make sure it swallowed me before it ever touched her.
“Move,” I said.
The doors opened in unison, boots hitting the asphalt, as the desert night swallowed us whole as we fanned out toward the clinic.