Chapter 112 Adam
Adam
Maps and notes littered the crate we used as a table. Boone’s laptop threw ghost-light across his face as his fingers flew, pulling chatter, cargo routes, and names that didn’t belong together.
“Corpus was just a spoke,” Boone muttered, not looking up. “The hub’s further inland. Bigger. Cleaner. They’re moving product north under agricultural shipments—grain, produce. You don’t scan a reefer full of lettuce if you’re on a deadline.”
Russ leaned forward, jaw tight. “You’re saying they’re hiding people with food.”
“Not hiding,” Boone said flatly. “Disguising. Which means this network is smarter than we thought.”
I traced my finger across the route he’d pulled, the line cutting through Texas like a scar. “Where?”
Boone tapped the map. “San Marcos. Old processing plant. Shut down two years ago. They’ve got infrastructure, cold storage, and trucks that blend.”
Hawk snorted from the corner, tossing a protein bar wrapper onto the floor. “Figures. College town. Everyone too busy drinking cheap beer to notice screams in the night.”
Blade’s knife glinted as he rolled it across his palm. “How tight’s their security?”
Boone’s lips curved, humorless. “Tight enough I shouldn’t be able to see this much. Which means somebody wants us looking.”
The room went still.
“Trap,” Logan muttered.
“Bigger than Dallas,” Russ added.
I studied the map, the hum of the gulf wind rattling the tin walls. He wasn’t wrong. But traps didn’t stop me. They fueled me.
“We don’t back off,” I said finally, my voice low steel. “We go in, we pull every victim they’ve caged, and we burn their operation to ash.”
Hawk leaned forward then, eyes sharp, grin edged with something dangerous. “About damn time.”
Our gazes locked, and for the first time, I saw more than his swagger. I saw the storm he kept hidden under jokes and smirks—the one that would boil over soon enough.
Raine’s hand slid into mine under the table, grounding me. Her voice was steady when she said, “Then we finish what we started.”
The team nodded, one by one.
The war wasn’t over. But neither were we.