Chapter 69 Adam
Adam
We rolled into the motel lot on two wheels, the SUV’s brakes screaming. Hawk killed the engine, and for a long moment, nobody moved. The cold stink of that clinic still clung to me, the hum of the refrigerators buzzing in my skull.
Blade slipped out first, scanning the shadows. Russ followed, hauling the files he’d pulled. Logan climbed out last, his jaw set tight, his eyes flicking to Raine like he wanted to lock her inside a vault.
I caught her hand before she stepped out. She looked at me, pale but steady, and I gave her the faintest nod. She was stronger than anyone gave her credit for—including me.
The motel door swung open before we hit the walkway. Boone stepped out, his hair mussed, a laptop clutched under one arm, his expression hard.
“Took you long enough,” he said, but his voice was rough with relief. “I’ve been pulling every thread I can find. And you’re not gonna like what I’ve got.”
Hawk snorted. “We didn’t like what we just found either.”
Boone’s eyes sharpened. “Try me.”
We crowded into the motel room, the stench of burnt coffee and sweat thick. Boone dropped the laptop onto the table, spinning it toward us. Lines of emails, invoices, coded memos filled the screen.
“Clinic’s just a hub,” he said, confirming what I already knew. “I traced their shipping invoices. Refrigeration units, saline, surgical packs. But here’s the kicker—they’re not billed to the clinic. They’re routed through shell companies tied to medical research grants.”
Russ leaned closer, his face tightening. “Federal funding?”
Boone nodded grimly. “Or the appearance of it. Everything leads to nonprofits and foundations on paper, but the money trails offshore. Cayman, Zurich, Panama. Somebody’s laundering a hell of a lot of cash to keep this machine greased.”
Logan swore under his breath. “That’s not cartel. That’s corporate. Government-level.”
I felt the weight of it settle over the room like a shroud. This wasn’t just about a ridge or a clinic. This was a system. A network.
Boone’s eyes flicked to me, steady. “And here’s the worst part—those feeds you tripped in the clinic?”
My chest tightened. “They were live.”
“Yeah,” Boone said, his voice low. “And someone was watching. Because the second you blew the lens, the servers spiked. They know you’re onto them now.”
The room went still.
Raine’s hand slid into mine, her grip tight. Hawk’s mouth curved into a grim smile. Blade said nothing, just pulled another knife from his belt and set to sharpening it.
Russ closed his notebook, his voice steady. “So we don’t just have enemies. We’ve got eyes.”
I straightened, my jaw locking. “Then we blind them. We cut every feed, every chain, every hand in the pie until there’s nowhere left for them to hide.”
Boone leaned back, studying me. “That’s not a mission, Stoker. That’s a war.”
“Damn right it is,” I said.
And as silence fell over the room, I realized the truth—they hadn’t just baited us tonight. They’d declared the first shot.
Now it was our turn.