He wasn’t wrong.
Lunchbox leaned forward between the seats. “If they’re running blackout on that bigger transport, we’re not dealing with an average delivery.”
“Never said we were,” I muttered.
“We need more than the four of us,” Voodoo said. “And maybe a tank.”
Lunchbox snorted. “I can be a tank.”
“You’re shaped like one,” Voodoo added with a laugh.
“Thank you.” Lunchbox grinned. “I’ll take point.”
The kids startled at the laughter, but little Nico proved to be a trooper and he smiled.
The safe building Alphabet found came into view—a squat concrete block at the edge of the old port inspection lot, fenced off and abandoned. Perfect for hiding. Perfect for protecting.
“Voodoo,” I said, “circle once.”
He did, slow. My eyes tracked everything—the sightlines, the blind corners, the possible exits, the two routes that could be used to funnel an ambush. Nothing moved except a gull picking at a paper bag.
“Clear,” I said.
We rolled up to the rear of the building. Lunchbox hopped out first, crowbar in hand, to sweep the perimeter. I took a second sweep of the interior—doorframe sturdy, floor dusty, windows boarded.
Secure enough.
“Grace,” I called softly. “Bring them in.”
She unbuckled, then led the kids out to follow her. Nico’s hand was in hers, the other children linked hands together, a chain of ducklings sticking so close they looked tied together.Goblin herded them with soft nudges, tail down but wagging just enough to say safe safe safe.
I stood in the doorway, a Glock in hand, a pair of clips and a taser. Once they were inside, I passed Grace what she needed. “One is already in the chamber. If anyone comes through that door that isn’t us, you shoot first and ask questions later.”
Grace’s eyes shone even though she was shaking. “We’ll be fine.”
“Yes, you will.” I touched two fingers to her chin, then tapped her comm unit. “You’ll be able to hear us, but I want you to mute your end unless we need something or you do.”
She nodded again. “Goblin and I can do this.”
I pressed a firm kiss to her lips, not stretching this out any longer than we needed to. Voodoo had rolled out a length of chain to wrap around the outer doorhandles, we’d “secure” it so it looked locked from the outside once we were there.
Then Grace’s voice—quiet—found me in the dim.
“Bones?”
I turned.
She swallowed. For a second, she looked small. Not weak—never that—but weighed down by what she’d just carried out of those vans.
“What do I tell them?” she whispered.
The kids watched her with hollow eyes. Nico clung to her sleeve. Goblin sat pressed to her ankle.
I didn’t sugarcoat it. Couldn’t.
“You tell them they’re safe,” I said. “Because right now, they are.”
Her throat worked. She nodded.
