“This isn’t just war, brother,” Spike says, stepping shoulder-to-shoulder with him, eyes just as deadly. “This is revenge.”
And holy hell… the roomfeelsit.
The shift. The promise.
The beginning of the end for Los Fantasmas.
“Maverick, choose your top three men and meet us in the war room,” Spike says. “We have a battle to plan.”
So…fucking…fun.
***
Spike stands at the head of the table, Bones and Tank flanking him. Foster’s already tapping through security logs, keeping an eye on the grounds…and the family down below. Knuckles leans back with his arms crossed, Crusher’s cracking his knuckles like warming up for murder yoga, and I’m…well, being my charmingly volatile self.
Across from us sits Maverick and his three handpicked men. Luca, and two others who look like they were raised on gunpowder and discipline.
Spike wastes no time.
“We combed the entire compound last night and again this morning,” he says. “Every sensor, every drone angle, every perimeter point. Nothing. No breach. The letter from Cortéz was a lie.”
A low, dangerous ripple goes around the table with the reminder of Cortéz’s threat.
Spike continues, “Once most of Maverick’s people pull back, I’ll allow the family topside. Until then, they stay in the bunker.”
My chest tightens with the thought of Eli…but I shove it aside. Focus, Skip. War now, pretty soft boy later.
Spike turns to Maverick. “Status on Cortéz?”
Maverick nods once, his Don persona slipping fully into place. As attractive as this powerful beast of a man is, I’m actually starting to miss our little Maverick. Our Outlaw.
“My men have eyes on him. He’s still in Mexicali. Hasn’t moved. But he’s purchased several properties and supply units in Palm Springs.”
“So he thinks he’s already moved in,” Bones says.
“He thinks he alreadyownsit,” Maverick corrects, voice a low growl. “He believes the Shadows will run.”
A laugh slips out of me.
“Cute,” I say. “He thinks wrong.”
“Alright,” Spike says. “Let’s get into it.”
“Want to see my new toy, boys?” Foster grins. Seconds later, the normally black table is replaced by digital images of maps.
“How the hell did you do that?” I ask, moving my arms away from the table.
Foster points up, and it’s only then that I notice the projector that was not there yesterday.
“Fancy,” I smile. “What else can you project?”
“Focus,” Spike orders, shaking his head. “We don’t have time for table porn.”
“Hey, I was going to suggest we watch a family-friendly movie,” I smirk, winking at Luca sitting next to Maverick. “He’s right, by the way. I was totally going to ask for table porn.”
“First priority,” Spike says, “is identifying Cortéz’s foothold here. One of Maverick’s tech guys got together with Foster this morning and confirmed a warehouse purchased through a shell company.”
Maverick nods. “We burn it.”
