Ride Rough (Raven Riders 2)
“I thought the CIA wasn’t supposed to do this shit inside the U.S. at all,” Phoenix said, scowling.
Chen shrugged and gave him a droll stare. “I work for the government.”
“And the government sanctions . . . this?” Phoenix asked, the arch of the eyebrow making the scar on the side of his face look more severe.
“The world’s a complicated place, Mr. Creed. Given what happened to your cousin and your friend recently, I think you’d know that as well as anyone. These are bad men who want to be worse. And they’re involved in more than I’m even sharing. They’re on a crash course with fate one way or the other. Let’s leave it at that.”
“So, what? We’re partners now?” Phoenix asked, arms crossed.
Chen shrugged with one shoulder. “In a manner of speaking.”
Chen’s words brought Maverick around more and more. The Ravens could help these women. They’d have the cover and assistance Chen and his men could provide. And it all still achieved their objectives. Mav turned to Dare. “I hate it, but I think we gotta wait.”
Dare nodded and nailed Chen with a stare. “We’ll wait. But this needs to happen tonight. We want to use the cover of the storm, and we want to be fast asleep in our beds well before dawn.” He arched a brow. Thunder rumbled again as if to emphasize the point.
“I think that can be accomplished,” Chen said with a nod.
“Given we’re stretching this out now, you got a way to keep the police out of the situation until we’re clear?” Maverick asked.
“Yes,” Chen said, offering nothing more. Well. There ya go.
“Fine,” Dare said. “We’ll play it your way. For now. But if things don’t go down like you said, we’re still doing this. So you keep up your end of the bargain, and we’ll keep up ours.”
THE SIGNAL FINALLY came at quarter after one.
“We’re about to be clear,” Chen called from where he’d been sitting in the driver’s seat of his car. “Get the word to your men. There might be a few Iron Cross left behind but it broke up about a half hour ago.”
“Doing it right now,” Dare called, his face already in his phone.
“Jesus,” Maverick said, shaking off the lethargy that hours of waiting had caused. Not hard, because the imminence of the fight fired up his adrenaline again. A few Iron Cross was worse than they’d hoped but better than if they’d gone in there hours before with the wrong intelligence. All around him, last-minute plans were being confirmed, and men were mounting up, checking their weapons, and starting their engines. He turned to Dare, gingerly straddling his ride. “D, for real. Be careful.” Maverick nailed him with a stare.
“I hear you,” he said.
Maverick grasped his cousin’s good shoulder. “I’m serious, Dare. It’s storming like a motherfucker, we’re about to ride into God knows what, and you have someone to go home to.” The sentiment made him think of Alexa, even though she wasn’t his. Still, he had promises to honor—promises he wouldn’t be able to keep if he got his ass killed tonight. And the thought of never seeing Alexa made him fucking ache. How had she gotten so far beneath his skin again in so few days? Or maybe she’d always been there, and he’d just been ignoring it.
“I hear you. And we all do. I’ll be careful.” Dare tugged his helmet on, the action clearly causing him pain.
Stubborn bastard. Family trait, though, wasn’t it?
Cursing under his breath, Maverick made for his own ride. The Night Rod came to life underneath him, the rumble of the engine sounding like an old friend saying hello.
Phoenix and Dare led them out, headlights dark, the echo of their collective engines drowning out the storm raging outside. And then they were out in it, rain lashing at them and pretty much instantly soaking through Maverick’s jeans and shirt. The visor on his helmet kept his eyes clear and hid his face, too, but the rain still limited his vision through the shield. His cut grew wet and heavy on his shoulders, but Mav didn’t mind. He liked the reminder of who he was and why they were doing this tonight.
Within a few minutes, they were in position in hiding places along the derelict street and around the edge of the waterfront compound, surveying the site and preparing to converge. The storm would no doubt prove a lifesaver, because there was plenty of evidence of unfriendlies on site. Four cars sat between his position and the building, and two Hummers sat close to a side entrance. More problematic, three men hung by the water at the back door of the long two-story building covered in old white siding. The remains of ancient signage under an old metal lamp revealed that the place had once housed some sort of shipping facility. The deluge obscured everything else.