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“It’s not our war.”
“It is if you could see how much?—”
“No.”
Jesus, he was cold. Cold and hollow.
“The Salvatores and the Rossis are here, they?—”
“I don’t care,” he answered. I swore I heard crying in the background, muffled, choked crying before Silas Ares murmured. “Don’t call me again.” And hung up the call.
Then there was silence. Anger burned deep inside me and it had little to do with his tone. It’s not our war. My thoughts turned to his sister and the way his mother had protected her. Not his war? He was wrong…so very, very wrong.
THIRTY-FOUR
Helene
Hunter pushed the four-wheel drive harder, sweeping around one of the other trucks to push in front. That stony-faced look of determination and rage burned in his eyes. Eyes that flicked up to the rear-view mirror to meet mine and in an instant, I felt the vehicle slow, as though he’d forgotten for a second what was at stake here.
“Go,” I urged. “Go.”
The Hummer surged once more, gaining ground.
“Trouble,” Riven called from the passenger seat. “Your weapons.”
I looked down, finding Kane trying to fix my holster as I seated my Glock against my chest.
“We’re to stay together.” He demanded. “No one is to be a damn hero, we get in and get out before any of the others even know we’re there. How hard can it be to kill one fucking asshole?”
Too goddamn hard.
If it was easy, it would’ve been done by now.
Hunter glanced at his cell as we skirted the city, taking the back roads. But the moment we were thirty minutes out, we seemed to gather company.
“Incoming.” Thomas murmured from across the other side of the back seat.
I shifted, my guns in my holster slamming into Kane as I looked behind us. There were more vehicles, spilling in from every direction, north and south to join the convoy to end Haelstrom Hale and his fucking Order.
Beep.
“Yeah?” Riven answered in front of me. “Understood.”
In the side mirror, a truck came roaring past, overtaking us. Riven glanced at Hunter and motioned back with his head. We slowed a little, letting the truckload of paid mercenaries take the lead. Dust kicked up as they took a hard left. Three more trucks behind us followed them.
“Stay on the course, brother,” Riven murmured.
We headed for the towering fence that bordered the private airfield and followed it along to where the guard hut and the entrance were. Tires skidded from the four-wheel drive as we turned hard. I caught movement inside that confined space as the guard stepped out, the automatic rifle in his hand raised. But before Riven could even get the car door open, the pfft of a sniper’s shot filled the air.
The guard never had a chance, falling where he stood, allowing Riven to climb out and flank the front of the car before he made his way inside the hut. Seconds later, the towering gate rolled open. Other vehicles flew past as trucks followed, barrelling inside. Riven hurried back to climb inside before we took off, following the others through.
I glanced behind us, to find London’s Explorer, and beyond them, Tobias was at the wheel of their midnight blue Land Rover. Our vehicle bounced hard, jerking my focus back.
“You know what to do, Trouble?”
I gave a nod. “I know.”
“You get separated from us, you head for London and the Sons, got it?”
