The simple words hung in the air between them like a death sentence. Riley felt her legs go weak again and sank back onto the chair, the old thing creaking under her weight.
"The drum weighed three hundred pounds," she whispered. "The concrete pad cracked when it hit. If it had landed on me …"
"There wouldn't have been enough left to identify,"Talon said with brutal honesty. "Industrial accidents like that don't leave survivors. They leave stains."
Riley nodded, wrapping her arms around herself as if she could physically hold the pieces of her composure together. "I keep telling myself it was random. That I'm reading malice into mechanical failure. But then I think about those shipping manifests, about my father's phone call, about the way Mauro watches me, and …"
"And you realize that people who skim rare minerals don't usually stop at fraud when someone gets too close to the truth," Talon finished.
The patio fell silent except for the distant sound of evening diners, traffic past the landscaped buffer, and music playing over the outside speakers. It should have been intimate, but tonight, there wasn’t room in her thoughts for intimacy. She rubbed her arms, cold in the lingering heat of the day. “I almost wish I were back in an office at corporate.” She laughed bitterly. “Almost. But then there wouldn’t be you or us. And I’m not willing to give that up.” God, how life had changed since the day she stepped foot on that ship. Back before she’d fought to live again. Back before Talon. She shook her head. She’d endure everything all over again if it meant she andTalon were in the same place.Destiny isn’t an easy road, but it brought me the man of my dreams.
Talon stood suddenly, the movement sharp and decisive. When he turned to face her, something had changed in his expression. The careful neutrality was gone, replaced by something harder and infinitely more dangerous.
"Riley," he said quietly, "don’t go near the industrial areas unless you absolutely have to. And if you do have to go, don't go alone. Take Mal with you or one of the other safety officers. Someone to witness what’s happening."
Something in his tone made her stop breathing. Not just concern—she'd heard concern from him before. This was different. This was the voice of a man making tactical decisions.
"What are you going to do?" she asked, though part of her already knew she didn't want the answer.
Talon looked at her for a long moment, his intense eyes unreadable. Then he shook his head slowly. "Nothing you need to worry about." Walking over to her, he pulled her into his arms. “Your only concern is taking care of yourself. I’ll handle everything else. Everything.” He bent down and kissed her gently. “You’re my life. I need you to promise me you’ll be careful.”
The dismissal was gentle but absolute. Riley opened her mouth to argue, to demand he tell her what he was planning, but something in his posture warned her off. This wasn't a discussion. But she could promise him she’d be careful. She nodded and lifted on her toes. He lowered, and the kiss was so sweet and gentle that she could have cried from the depth of feeling.
CHAPTER 19
The mining site lay shrouded in the kind of desert darkness that seemed to swallow both sound and light. The low, mechanical hum of the generators provided a steady heartbeat against the heavy night air, punctuated by the distant howl of coyotes somewhere in the vast emptiness beyond the perimeter. Stars wheeled overhead in patterns undimmed by city lights.
Talon adjusted the fit of his tactical vest for the third time. The familiar weight of Kevlar and ceramic plates settling against his chest was comfortable. The muted bulk of his sidearm, a Sig Sauer P320 loaded with hollow points, pressed against his hip. Its reassuring presence had witnessed him go through three combat deploymentsand more black ops missions than he cared to count.
He stood at the compound's eastern perimeter, invisible in the shadow cast by the mining site’s apartment tower. His every sense tuned to the rhythm of the night. His breathing was controlled and measured. His cousin Blake called it the deliberate calm of a predator preparing to hunt. Blake was a hunter, an assassin, like his father. It wasn’t Talon’s forte, but when needs must …
Wolf emerged from the darkness like a ghost, his approach so silent that even Talon, listening for it, barely heard the whisper of boot leather against packed earth. The man had been a Force Recon Marine before joining Guardian Security, and it showed in every fluid movement.
"Perimeter's clear," Wolf murmured, his voice barely above a breath. "Delgado's alone. Single light in the front window, no movement for the past twenty minutes. Looks like he's settled in for the night."
Talon nodded once, sharp and economical. In the distance, Jug materialized from behind a storage shed, his massive frame moving with surprising grace for a man who looked like he could bench press a small car. "Juggernaut" had earned his nickname in the Rangers,where his ability to carry impossible loads over impossible terrain had become legendary. Now, dressed in black tactical gear that seemed to absorb the starlight, he looked less like a man than like a piece of the darkness itself that had decided to take human form.
"Ready?" Jug's voice was low, stripped of the easy humor that usually colored his words. This wasn't a training exercise or a friendly competition on the range. This was business. It was the kind of business that left permanent marks on everyone involved.
“You don’t need to be a part of this,” Talon reminded them.
“Like we’d miss it.” Dude’s voice came through their comms.
“What he said,” Jug echoed.
Wolf just lifted an eyebrow.
Talon nodded. His men had his back. Only three of them were inside the perimeter of the mining camp. Stryker and Hammer were ensuring the nightly rhythm of the camp didn’t deviate. They’d respond if needed.
Talon's hand moved instinctively to check his equipment one final time—knife secured in its sheath, flex-cuffs clipped to his belt, radio earpiece properly seated. No rattling gear, no unnecessaryweight, nothing that would give them away before they were ready to be seen.
"Quick in, quick out," he said, his voice carrying the absolute authority of a man accustomed to leading others into harm's way. "No noise unless he makes it necessary. We're here for information, not violence.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Wolf said. “Bastard almost killed your woman.”
“We don’t stand for that shit,” Jug agreed.
Talon agreed mentally, but he wasn’t going to kill the bastard. Not yet. “Follow my lead.”
