Law’s grin widened. “Still issuing orders from the desk, huh?”
Stone’s eyes cut to him, sharp as knives.
“Careful,” Stone said evenly. “He’s the reason you’ve got a place at the table.”
The tension cracked the air for a beat, silence sharp enough to draw blood.
“Sorry.” Law tipped his head. No way he wanted to get on the bad side of the former SecDef. “No freelancing. Promise.”
Dave acknowledged the apology with the barest nod. Then his voice hardened. “You’re here because Titus doesn’t play small. I want every move cataloged, every contact traced, every supply choke-point cut. You’ll follow Sparrow’s lines and report through me. Clear?”
“Crystal.”
The study door opened again without ceremony.
“Christ, what is this, a family reunion?” Rip’s gravelly voice filled the room as he and Winter strode in. Rip carried his broad frame with casual authority, tattoos crawling up his forearms like warnings. Winter was his opposite—lean, sharp-eyed, sarcasm practically dripping off him.
Law’s grin returned, broader this time. “If it isn’t the circus.”
“Funny.” Winter dropped into a chair, stretching long legs out. “Didn’t know they were letting retirees back in the game. Or is this a make-a-wish op?”
Rip folded his arms. “Long as he can keep up, I don’t care if he came in using a walker.”
Law laughed, and for a second, the years peeled back.
Stone’s mouth ticked.
The banter carried the edge of men who’d shared ops before.
But Dave didn’t let it linger.
“Sit,” he ordered. “We’re moving fast.”
Maps shifted, chairs scraped. The group leaned in, listening as Dave laid out Sparrow’s intel, his finger tracing red lines from San Pedro, up through Santa Monica, and on to Port Hueneme, cutting up from Los Angeles to Ventura County like arteries.
“Viper says Titus isn’t just moving product,” Dave said. “He’s bringing in help.”
They all knew the “product” Dave spoke about was more than likely human trafficking victims—mainly children. Something hot lingered in the air.
“What kind of help?” Law chimed in.
“Contractors. Former mercenaries. Quiet names that don’t hit databases,” Dave again.
“Assassins?” Rip asked, tone low.
“More than likely some,” Dave said.
The words hung heavy, a chill crawling through the study as every man understood exactly what that meant.
The study had gone still, the air thick with the scrape of maps and the echo of unspoken things.
When the latch turned, every head lifted.
Viper stepped through the door, silence following him in. He brought a power that pulled your focus without trying. Tall, weathered, eyes like chipped glass. He crossed to the table, gaze sweeping the maps before settling on Dave.
Dave didn’t blink. “You ready to tell us the details of your run-in with Titus?”
“I thought the SecDef told you,” Viper said.
