CHAPTER ONE
Raven’s Cliff, Present day…
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Nick stared up at the glass-and-steel lodge clinging to the cliff like a prayer. He’d been expecting a cedar A-frame with a retrofitted security core, clean fields of fire — the kind of structure he could defend against a medieval siege. This…
This was a tombstone with their names on it.
Nick’s teammate, Buck Landry, former-Marine Raider and their resident ordinance guy shifted in beside him, brow furrowed, mouth pinched tight.
He tilted his head, gaze pausing at all the structural points a simple charge could cripple. “Call me crazy…” he glanced at Nick, “and trust me, people still do, but I was picturing more cozy costal, less Bond villain.”
Eric Dalton, former-Green Beret and one of the best snipers Nick had every worked with, grunted as he tracked the long, exposed sky-bridge spanning a forest-choked ravine to a separate west wing. “Angles everywhere. Glass everywhere. Not to mention multiple choke points. It’s a tactical nightmare.”
Nick nodded, glancing at the specs on his phone, then back to the deathtrap spread out before them. “Sniper risk?”
Dalton snorted as he waved at the surrounding thicket of massive Sitka spruce. “I realize it’s reinforced glass, but with the interior exposed like that, pick a tree, buddy.”
“That’s what I thought.” Nick turned to their client. Elias Ward — CEO of a multi-million-dollar tech company. The guy had requested a security consultation for an upcoming conference hosted at his new age retreat. Wanted to discuss Raven’s Security’s unique brand of defense. Seemed impressed they were all former-special forces. Though, if the guy honestly thought a place like this was defensible…
Nick snorted to himself. This was why he’d left the CIA — all the faulty intel and politically motivated missions — joined Raven’s Security in the fog-shrouded coastal town of Raven’s Cliff. But one month into his new life, and the semi-quiet rhythm of the Oregon coast still didn’t fit quite right. Not wrong, just different, and better than the coffin Sloane had insisted he’d been heading for. Though, it wasn’t the change of scenery or the civilian twist to his ops that felt off.
It was the silence where Sloane’s constant presence had been. A never-ending ache that dimmed any residual pain in his shoulder. Sure, they talked when their schedules allowed, but not seeing her everyday had taken a toll he hadn’t realized he’d have to pay.
Proof he’d left the best part of himself in Virginia.
Nick nudged Dalton. “Did Bodie actually look these over?”
Dalton sighed. “Wade took the call late last night. He’s been manning the phones a couple days a week — so he’s not completely removed until he’s cleared to return, which will still be a few months. From what I heard, this assignment was all pretty rushed.”
Nick snorted. “It’s like you’re all trying to tell me something.”
Elias paled when Nick focused on him, sweat beading his brow, every nerve jumping like Nick had hooked him up to a generator — kept zapping him with an electric charge. “Sorry, guess I sent you the old blueprints by mistake. The new structure was just finished a month ago. Complete retrofit.”
Nick bit back a curse. Unlike the CIA, the private sector required him to have a bit more… tact, which had never been his strong suit. “It’s impressive, unless you’re worried about an attack. We can definitely provide security — try to stop any threats before they fully take shape — but if you’re looking for absolutes, you’ll need a change of venue.”
“There’s a panic room.” Ward pointed to the opposite side of the sky-bridge. “In the west wing.”
Dalton practically growled. “Of course, it’s on the other side of the glass kill box.”
Ward frowned, checked his watch like he’d been doing the entire ride over. “The what box?”
Nick waved it off. “A panic room’s a great failsafe, and we’ll run the specs on it, but before we go inside, care to tell me why you keep checking your watch?”
Ward glanced at his wrist, again, brow arched. “Excuse me?”
“Your watch.” Nick motioned to it. “You’ve checked it every two minutes since we picked you up at the airport. Something we should know?”
Ward made the rounds, his gaze not quite meeting their eyes. “I’m in the middle of an acquisition — came back early to discuss this event. I’m expecting an update any minute, now. Guess I’m a bit anxious.”
Nick stared at him, noting the light sheen of sweat on his forehead, the way his mouth twitched ever so slightly, before nodding. “Then, let’s get this started.”
Dalton sighed, falling in beside Nick as Ward and Buck headed for the front door. “He’s lying. About wanting security,not about being nervous. No one picks something like this as a stronghold.”
Nick snorted. “No shit.”
“You gonna call him on it?”
