18. Blade #2
“He’s in Vegas,” I remind her calmly. “Where he’s been since the first time you asked.”
“For ‘shipping business’” she replies flatly.
I nod once. “Very important shipping.”
That finally earns a reluctant laugh out of her before she shakes her head. “You’re both obnoxious.”
Stryker opens the SUV door again. “Probably.”
She studies us another second though. Like she wants to ask more questions and doesn’t fully know how yet. That curiosity worries me more than I let show.
Eventually she exhales quietly and steps backward toward her Subaru. “Fine. Go do your mysterious shipping things.”
“If this is how you reacted for me and Viper, what are you going to do when Blade goes of town?” Stryker asks casually.
Nora’s head snaps toward me so fast it almost makes me laugh.
“What? You are too? When?”
“No, I’m not,” I reassure her quickly though something, warm settles low in my chest at her reaction.
She points at us accusingly. “If anybody else suddenly leaves on some random business trip, I expect warning this time.”
I keep my voice calm anyway. “I’ll definitely warn you ahead of time.”
“I promise I’ll warn you next time, and we promise the same for Viper.” Stryker adds as well.
Her expression softens before she can stop it. Then she catches herself and clears her throat. “Good, well, good luck with your business. Bye.”
Then she scurries off, head down, blonde hair falling over er face. Nora climbs into the Subaru and pulls out of the parking lot while Stryker watches her leave through narrowed eyes. I already know what he’s thinking, because honestly I’m thinking it too.
Hours later, Stryker and I are in his office, stone-faced waiting for the video feed from Bishop to come through from Vegas.
Stryker sits in his desk chair while I’m draped in a chair across from him. His monitor is turned for both of us to see and be in frame.
“They’re fifteen minutes late,” Stryker mutters with irritation and a good dose of worry. Viper works on his own schedule we know that. But Bishop is a stickler for a clock.
“Everything’s fine. If it wasn’t we?—”
I cut off when the monitor screen flashes a loading over the video screen box. A second later, Bishop pops into frame. One glance at Bishop’s face through the secured video feed tells me everything’s worse.
Stryker notices too. “Talk.”
Bishop leans back in his chair somewhere in Vegas, dark circles under his eyes sharper than usual.
“Lines are compromised in at least three cities now. Miami confirmed one breach yesterday. I’m still tracing the Vegas leak and I’m getting some confusing information that we might have something going down in LA, but I can’t confirm or deny right now. ”
“Do you think it’s connected to Joquain and his allies?” I ask.
“Don’t know yet.”
That answer alone pisses Stryker off immediately.
He drops into his chair while rubbing one hand across his mouth. “Where’s Viper?”
“Right here,” Viper’s voice cuts through the speaker a second later.
The camera feed shifts enough to show him standing inside what looks like an abandoned warehouse office somewhere downtown. Dark circles shadow beneath his eyes too, stubble heavier than usual across his jaw.
Damn. Vegas clearly hasn’t been kind to him. I briefly wonder how much of that also had to do with his issues with Nora before he left.
“What about you? What did you figure out from boots on the ground?” Stryker asks, ignoring the look of him, though I don’t miss the slight frown as he takes in the look of our team brother.
Viper exhales slowly before answering. “Pretty much same thing. Stuff’s weird as shit, but can’t pin down why.
Warehouse district’s crawling with armed bodies now.
But no insignias or identifying way to tell which team is responsible for this.
Way too many for standard movement. We’ve got unfamiliar crews rotating through loading docks every six hours and almost zero visible product. ”
Silence settles hard after that because none of us like what it implies. If all of this is happening in Vegas we have to believe that despite the fact that there is no evidence of who is behind it, the Vegas Mafia at least knows about this. And that is concerning.
The Vegas Mafia shouldn’t still have enough structure left for operations this organized after Don Vincenzo’s death.
Not without outside support. And Joquain should still have more trouble being that support, considering we’ve crippled his Cartel several times now.
So all of that points to the Bratva moving in the US more than they ever have, and that is everyone’s fucking nightmare.
Joquain. Vegas. All of it is now entangled in Bratva money.
Viper folds his arms across his chest in the video feed. “Something big’s getting planned.”
“You pull the tech yet?” Stryker asks, clearly directing the question to Bishop.
“No. I don’t think I can either. Not safely,” Bishop answers honestly.
I swear quietly under my breath. For Bishop to say no is a big fucking deal.
Stryker clenches his teeth before launching into more strategy talk for several minutes.
I start to drown it out a bit, my brain defeating in and out of the conversation swaying from everything going on to Nora and back again.
Eventually conversation slows slightly while Bishop starts pulling up maps for Stryker remotely. The pause leaves enough space for something else to slip through my mind. I glance toward Viper’s exhausted face on the monitor before speaking.
“Nora and Paxton miss you, Viper.”
The silence afterward lasts long enough that I genuinely wonder if the connection froze.
Stryker notices too because he taps the desk impatiently. “You still there?”
Viper blinks once slowly. “What exactly did Nora say?”
Despite everything happening around us, amusement curls low in my chest immediately.
“She seems irritated that shipping apparently requires this much travel.” I continue calmly. “She asks about you pretty much every day and so does Paxton.”
Another silence. Stryker looks openly entertained now.
“She also has demanded that well tell her if we are leaving town from now on,” he adds helpfully.
Viper stares at both of us through the monitor, like he’s reconsidering every friendship decision he’s ever made.
Then finally: “She said all that?”
I nod once. “Got flustered when we pointed it out.”
Viper leans back slowly against the foldout board being used as a desk in the van behind him while scrubbing one hand over his face. When he finally speaks again, his voice stays carefully flat.
“I’ll be back tonight. We’ll get the damn tech connected.”
Then he leans forward and disconnects immediately before anyone can respond. The screen goes black.
For a second neither of us says anything.
Then Stryker laughs quietly under his breath while leaning back in his chair. “Pathetic.”
“Completely,” I agree.
Still, faint amusement settles through the room despite the weight pressing down around all of us lately. Vegas is becoming unstable fast. Miami’s escalating too. Every instinct I have says something ugly’s coming soon.
But underneath all of that, something else matters too.
If he’s pathetic for her, so are we. We know that.