A light rain drummed against the tin roof, the soft patter blurring the hard edges of the room. The vanilla-scented candle he’d found that first night flickered on the table, the wax slowly dripping down the side. Out on the bayou, their skiff rocked against the dock, the odd squeak of the old wood sounding above the other noises.
No gunfire.
No chaos.
Just the world slowly spinning around them.
Riven rested her head on McGuire’s shoulder, the gentle weight grounding him. A tangible reminder of how much he had to lose. That, regardless of how the rest of the op played out, he needed to keep her safe. Know that she’d made it out the other side intact, even if he didn’t.
A soft brush of her hand on his arm drew his attention, and he smiled as he stared into her blue eyes, the color bright amidst the drab interior.
She studied him, and he swore she read every thought, every twitch that broadcast his intentions — that he’d die before he let Langley or Herrera hurt her. Though, based on the way her eyes narrowed, her breath roughening as she tilted her head, she had her own plans.
McGuire nudged her. “Penny for your thoughts?”
She stared him down. “Will you tell me yours in return? Because I have the feeling I know exactly where they’re headed.”
“Riven, I…”
His phone chirped, the steady vibration bouncing it across the coffee table. He glanced at Patch, the same conclusion written on his buddy’s face. That the situation had already gone sideways.
McGuire palmed the cell, took a breath, then answered it. “This can’t be good news.”
Savvy tsked. “Just once, would it kill you to say hello?”
“I already know it’s you. So? What’s wrong?”
She sighed, the heavy sound detonating through the space. “My surveillance feed just picked up an unscheduled trawler arriving at the number four warehouse. Men are moving pallets off as we speak. I’ve confirmedEl Martillo’sthere. And there’s an inbound barge that’s just been put on the docket by our resident Army-Reservist out of Belle Chasse. It’s due to arrive in two hours.”
“Shit. They’re moving the explosives tonight.”
Patch cursed, stood, darted out the door toward the bunkhouse as McGuire pushed to his feet.
Savvy tapped her fingers in the distance. “Looks like it.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “So, Langley wasn’t completely convinced about the ledger.”
“For all we know, they always push it ahead by a day. To compensate in case this exact situation occurs. Either way, you’ve got two hours to get to that warehouse — confirm it’s legit and mark the crates so my team can ride in and arrest everyone. Hopefully prove it’s tied to Langley.”
“See, I knew it was bad news.”
“About that… There’s one additional piece that might turn out in our favor. Seems Langley left Virginia on Senator Morrison’s private jet thirty minutes ago. No manifest. No flight plan. Which we both know means he’s going somewhere he doesn’t want traced.”
“You think he’s coming here.”
“After everything that went down? No way he’s going to let this shipment go without personally escorting it. But it also means Keane’ll be there. And Morrison’s private security force, so… watch your back.” She breathed into the phone. “McGuire?”
“Yeah, Savvy.”
“Don’t make me bury you for real.” She hung up, her final words hanging in the air.
Riven hooked his elbow when he started packing up. “What she said.”
He sighed, took one last moment to taste her lips. Savor the feel of her in his arms before they headed out — ended the war. “As long as you do the same. I want a future, Riven, and I want you in it.”
He dropped one final kiss on her mouth, then packed their bags — met Patch on the porch. They headed for the skiff, the moon already glowing through the rising fog.
Jumping onboard, they headed out.
