Outside,thunder rolled across the hills again, deep and distant. The calm before the storm never lasted long in Copper Cove.
And this time, the Brave Team was right in the middle of it again.
8
Julia
The morning sun burned through the fog like it was in a hurry to make trouble. I parked outside the sheriff’s department, sat for a second, and told myself to breathe. Four former Delta-Force operators had decided to “help” me take down a Colombian cartel in a town with one traffic light and a population under five thousand.
What could possibly go wrong?
I stepped out, coffee in hand, and almost tripped over a pair of boots propped against my bumper.
“Morning, Detective,” Hawk said, sunglasses sliding down his nose. “You sleep at all?”
“Barely.” I gave him a look. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you.”
“Why?”
“Because if you go anywhere near that mine again, I’m coming with you.”
I sipped my coffee and tried not to look at the way the early light hit his shoulders. “You planning on following me everywhere now?”
“Only when you look like you’re about to do something reckless.”
“Then you’ll be busy,” I muttered.
Behind him, Logan, Boone, and Russ were checking gear in the back of a black SUV. They looked more like a special ops unit than tourists on vacation. There was no way they would blend in.
Logan gave a two-finger salute. “Detective Marlow. Don’t worry, we’ll behave.”
Boone smirked. “Mostly.”
Russ didn’t even look up. “No promises.”
I rubbed my temples. “This is exactly why I work alone.”
“Not anymore,” Hawk said, opening the passenger door of my truck. “You and I are going undercover.”
“How can we be undercover with everyone in town knowing us?” I asked.
You’ll see,” he smirked.
We parkedtwo miles from the mine and walked the rest of the way through dense trees, the ground soft with last night’s rain. Hawk carried a duffel bag that looked too heavy for one person, and I carried my Glock and a knot of nerves.
“Explain again why I agreed to this,” I said.
“Because you like danger.”
“I like justice. There’s a big difference.”
“Sure, there is.” He smiled that slow, crooked grin that always made my pulse trip.
We reached the edge of a clearing. Through the trees, I could see movement—two men guarding a side entrance, a semi-truck half hidden under camouflage netting.
“Looks like supply day,” Hawk murmured, crouchingbeside me. “If we can get close enough to see what’s in that truck, we’ll know what kind of operation they’re running.”
