Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58752 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58752 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
By midafternoon, the damaged SUV that had escaped the road interception had returned. At least six armed men rotated through the site, and the vehicles remained positioned for a fast exit rather than normal loading. Nothing about the place suggested a legitimate storage operation, and everything about their movements said they were preparing to relocate whatever the warehouse raid and road ambush had failed to secure.
The current surveillance team returned shortly before five, bringing clearer photographs and confirmation that Bellamy-marked cases were being staged near the trucks. Stryker called the final prep meeting shortly after, but my first stop after debriefing the returning brothers was the clubhouse lounge.
Tamsin sat on a stool beside the pool table while Bex leaned over a shot and Jacqueline accused her of inventing rules as she went. Tamsin’s head tipped back on a soft giggle, wild curls spilling down her back. She looked fucking fantastic relaxed inside my world.
She looked up the moment I entered, and the laughter in her face changed into warm relief before she crossed the room toward me. “You were gone longer this time.”
“Counting the minutes?”
“Maybe.”
I caught her around the waist and pulled her into me before she could pretend the answer had not pleased me. Her body settled against mine automatically, palms flattening over my chest as though that was where they belonged now. I kissed the corner of her mouth, and felt my cock harden when her lips chased mine by half an inch.
“Stryker needs your eyes on some pictures.” I kept my hand spread over her lower back as I took her to his office.
Hawkeye stood near the window, Cipher had surveillance photographs spread across one monitor, and Bishop, Judge, Wraith, and Nomad occupied the chairs and wall space around the table. Trigger, Breach, Skyfall, Smoke, and several other patched brothers filtered in behind us, their conversation rough but focused as they studied the property layout.
Stryker tipped his chin toward the open place beside Cipher. “Show her the cases.”
Tamsin moved to the screen while I stayed close enough that her arm brushed mine. Cipher brought up the clearest image from that afternoon, and she leaned forward, concentration replacing the warmth she had carried from the lounge. No one interrupted while she studied the markings, enlarged the damaged corners, and compared the containers against details only someone raised inside Bellamy Pyrotechnics would recognize.
“These three belong to us,” she determined, touching the screen carefully. “The yellow bands mark controlled pyrotechnic material, but the labels have been removed. This longer case should hold firing components, unless they repacked it.”
Judge slid a printed photograph closer. “What about this one?”
Tamsin studied the damaged container. “Don’t move this until Gavin checks it. That corner shouldn’t be bowed outward, and the latch looks newer than the rest of the case.”
“Anything else?” I asked, enjoying how seriously she considered the question.
Her gaze dropped toward the bandage beneath my shirt. “Try not to get stabbed again.”
Smoke coughed into his fist, Wraith looked toward the ceiling, and Judge’s mouth twitched before he hid it behind his coffee. I made no effort to conceal my grin. Tamsin noticed the reactions and blushed, but she held my gaze.
I kissed her temple before walking her to the kitchen, where Bex and Jacqueline were sitting at the island drinking from steaming mugs and talking with Dot and Mara—old ladies whose men had been with the club since before Stryker became president.
Dot pushed a third mug toward an empty stool with a warm smile for my pretty girl.
Tamsin looked at me before joining them, and I squeezed the back of her neck and left her with the women before returning to Stryker’s office.
The meeting stayed brief because we had spent the day learning the ground. Stryker laid out the approach, and the brothers refined it. Road teams would close the main drive and the rear service route, breach groups would hit from opposite sides, and no one would touch a Bellamy case until I cleared it.
“If they try to burn the place, stop the fire before you chase the asshole holding the match.” I looked around the room. “We need the material intact, and I’d rather not spend tonight picking pieces of you out of a hillside.”
Smoke leaned back in his chair. “You say the sweetest shit before a raid.”
“Trying to keep morale up.”
Hawkeye pointed at the rear service road on the map. “Nomad’s people close this first. Once it’s shut, vehicles stay inside the fence.”
Stryker looked around the table. “Nobody plays hero, breaks formation, or gets greedy. We take the site, the material, and every bastard we can keep breathing long enough to answer questions.”
We answered with low acknowledgments. Men checked weapons, comms, armor, and the gear required for the parts they would handle. I changed into a clean shirt over the bandage, settled my cut across my shoulders, and secured the equipment I would need if the damaged case held more than stolen material.