Nate

I threw a pillow at him, but he darted out the door before it made contact.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Nate

Peter fidgeted in the seat next to me as we watched the runway. “The flight’s on time—should be here in 15 minutes.”

“How about our guys on the river?” A never-ending current of tension vibrated through my body. I wouldn’t be able to relax until I got back home to Sabrina.

“No news is good news. Our decoy boat should be chugging up the river right about now. If they’re going to ambush us, we’ll know as soon as it happens.”

“They will.” There was no way Dmitri would pass up this chance to disrupt my operations even more.

Peter shifted again, his sharp eyes scanning the darkness around the edges of the lit runway. “I don’t like doing this without David.”

“I need him taking care of Sabrina.”

“I don’t disagree. But it never hurts to have some extra firepower.”

I smirked. “I’ll be sure to tell him you’ve been bellyaching for him.”

“Always gotta be a dick, don’t you?”

“I got a rep to protect.” Despite the light ribbing, we both kept our attention on the runway. We needed this score, and we needed it to go down without a hitch. An irritating tickle in the back of my mind warned me that shit was never easy. Never. But I was hoping that my luck would change.

After a few more moments of tense silence, a light appeared in the sky, blinking in a way that could only be our approaching aircraft.

Peter hit a quick-dial number on his phone. “What’s the word on the water?” He tapped the speaker button.

“Quiet. The boat’s almost to the dock,” Angus’s voice came back.

The hackles on the back of my neck rose. “No sign of the Russians?”

“No. The boat’s pulling up now. We’ve got lookouts on the highway and up and down river. No one’s made a peep.” Angus paused. “Something feels off.”

“I feel it, too.” I glanced at Peter.

Movement beyond the runway caught my eye. “Look.” I pointed as a line of men emerged from the gloom, submachine guns tucked at their sides.

“Fuck!” Peter stared. “I had three guys out there.”

“Not anymore.” I snatch the phone from Peter’s lap. “Get your guys to the airstrip now.”

“What’s going on ove—”

“The Russians are here. Get your squad here as fast as you can. The rat…” I trailed off and glanced at Peter. The rat had to be someone close enough to know the real plan. Whoever it was told the Russians, and now we were really fucked. But I had kept that information close, which only left Peter, David, and Sabrina—all of them loyal, or so I had thought.

I tossed the phone, pulled out my gun, and pointed it at Peter. To his credit, he didn’t reach for his piece, even as gunfire began to erupt along the runway.

“Nate. It wasn’t me.” I had never seen Peter more serious, his grave eyes trying to convince me. “David and I are solid.”

“There’s no one else. It had to be one of you.” Even as I said the words, I couldn’t believe them. The Ravens had been with me from the start. They had always had my back, no matter what. The thought of them turning on me made me question the entire foundation of what we’d built together. On top of that, terror lanced through my heart. I’d left David alone with Sabrina. He was supposed to protect her, but what was his real agenda?

“I know.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. But you have to trust me. The same way I’ve trusted you. I’m not going to say you’re like a brother to me just to save my hide. But it’s true. You are.”

“Fuck.” It was the only thing I could manage as I weighed his words, holding his life in my hands.

Bullets thunked into the side of the SUV as the sounds of out-and-out warfare ratcheted up outside.

Peter held his hands up. “If you’re going to do it, go ahead. But I swear to you on my life and my brother’s life that we would never betray you.”

Everything in me believed him. Maybe because I was sentimental. Maybe because he’d been with me, always on my side, for the past five years. Maybe because I was fucking stupid. Yeah, the last one was probably the right one.

I lowered my gun.

He took a deep breath and dropped his hands to his lap. “Thank you. Can I get back to work now?” He didn’t wait for an answer and picked up his handheld to bark instructions at our men as the plane landed to a hail of gunfire.

I palmed my Uzi and a Glock, then jumped from the SUV and took a defensive position behind the landing gear of the nearest plane. Dozens of men raced towards us, all of them set to “destroy” mode. Fuck.