Page 167 of Revere: A Legacy Novel

“I need those guns. I’m going to get those damn guns.”

“Holy shit,” Zeke muttered as his eyes stretched wide. “You’re sure there’s enough guns in these crates?”

Cross shrugged, taking in the back of the eighteen-wheeler and the three crates filled with disassembled assault rifles. “Probably not, but we just need to drop guns and get the hell out of there, right? This was supposed to be a run for next month. We were taking it down close to the Mexico border, and then pack some of it on planes. A bit of it was heading into the underground tunnels beneath the border for travel, too. This is one of two. They were waiting on the other half before we headed out with it.”

“Where were they going from the plane?”

“I don’t know. My job was going to be to get them on the plane. I only focus on what I am told to do, nothing else.”

“All right, so what now?”

Cross clapped his hands together. “Now we get this truck out of here and on the road. We’ve got fuck all for time, so let’s try not to get pulled over speeding back.”

“Because that would be bad,” Zeke mumbled.

“Really bad.”

For everyone.

“How are you going to explain this to Chicago, man?”

Cross hadn’t really thought of it. He simply knew where the Outfit kept their guns hidden, how to get inside the warehouse, and a few other details about this particular shipment to benefit him.

“I think I might just let Dante handle that one,” Cross admitted.

“A war between New York and Chicago. That sounds fun.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Except … he knew it was a damn good possibility.

Catherine was worth it.

“Okay, we’re just wasting time,” Cross said.

The longer they stayed there, the better chance they had of getting caught by someone from the Outfit. He hadn’t been all too surprised to find the warehouse wasn’t being watched, but that was only because Theo DeLuca, the man who trafficked guns for the organization, had his rules.

One of those was keeping the locations of the guns a secret as much as possible. Only a handful of people ever knew what was happening with the weapons during runs, and where they might be being held until they started moving again. The weapons didn’t need to be constantly babysat if no one knew where they were to steal them. Cross, on the other hand, always knew because Theo trusted him.

He sent a silent apology to the man. It was what it was. He had to do what he had to do.

Cross turned and jumped out of the back of the truck, landing on the cement floor almost soundlessly. Zeke quickly followed. Cross pointed across the warehouse to a small office that was blocked off by a few cardboard boxes.

“That’s where the keys for the rig are. In the desk, left side, top drawer.”

“I mean, at least we know the Outfit is not going to report the damn thing as missing in an hour or something,” Zeke said to himself as he headed for the office. “It’s probably already hot as hell.”

Cross didn’t deny his friend’s assumptions.

Zeke was right.

While Zeke searched for the keys, Cross headed to the back of the warehouse to unlock and open the bay doors. He pulled the chains to lift the heavy doors, and froze in place.

Tommaso Rossi stood on the other side with his arms crossed over his chest, and his gaze stabbing with accusation. “Cross.”

Shit.

“Tommaso.”