“What the fuck?” Riven murmured as we turned off the highway into the driveway of the mountain house. “Yeah,” he said into his cell. “They’re here and it’s a goddamn mess. Do something, Reggie, and do it now.”
He lowered his cell from calling his lawyer and stared at the four dark sedans parked outside the command center. Two of Hunter’s men were standing there waiting. One I recognized instantly. Mark was his new second-in-command. A former MP in the Marines. Apparently, he was as formidable in the law as he looked, and that alone was slightly terrifying.
The moment we stepped out of the car, Mark headed over, nodding to Riven before he turned to Hunter. “I tried to stop them, but they had a warrant.”
“It’s okay.” Hunter stared at two feds as they carried computer equipment out of his command center and lowered his voice. “Did you get everything squared away?”
“Yes, just in time. Another twenty minutes and we might’ve had a problem.”
It looked like the call from the Rossi’s lawyer was perfect timing. I hoped at least. I closed the car door behind me, then stared, stunned, as three more agents strode from the house carrying our personal things, including an armful of my t-shirts and underwear…
“Those are my clothes.” I snapped and started forward. “Hey! Those are my clothes!”
One agent lifted his head, his gaze narrowing on me. He glanced at the two others and nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll take care of this.”
They took my things and stowed them in the trunk of one of the cars.
“Hunter Cruz?” The lanky asshole asked as he pulled a folded piece of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket and handed it over. “A warrant.”
Riven snatched it, ignoring that it was for Hunter, opened it, and scanned the details. But it was the rest of us the agent looked at, Thomas in particular. I glanced at his FBI badge clipped on his pocket.
“Bremmer,” I murmured, meeting his stare.
“Yes.” His lips curled as he scanned all of us, settling on Thomas. “Thomas Cruz,” he said. “We finally meet.”
“Marcus Bremmer.” Kane took a step forward, moving between the asshole and Thom. “Any relation to Ignatius Bremmer?”
“Yes,” The agent answered. “He was my brother.”
Ignatius Bremmer…the lawyer Ben killed last night. Oh, shit. Now it made sense.
Another agent strode from the house, this time carrying Thomas’ clothes. His black suit jacket and white clerical collar were shoved into a clear plastic bag.
“I know it was you,” Marcus Bremmer seethed in front of us, his gaze fixed on Thom. “The cameras picked you up outside the building.” He stepped closer. “You might’ve had your men fry the servers inside the building but that doesn’t mean you got away with this. I’m going to ruin you.” He scanned the rest of us, stopping on Riven. “Every. Single. One of you.”
We said nothing, even as they carried four firearms from the command center, cradled in the arms of one of the men.
“I have licenses for those.” Hunter stepped forward, stopping them.
“Do you?” Bremmer answered, reaching around his back and pulled out a set of cuffs. “I’m sure your lawyer can argue that in front of the judge. Thomas Cruz, I’m placing you under arrest on the suspicion of firearms trafficking, anything you say will be…”
What?
What did he just say?
Thomas?
He had nothing to do with this.
“The hell you do!” Riven lunged, slammed into the agent, and knocked him to the ground.
“They aren’t his guns!” Hunter bellowed. “They’re mine. They’re registered to ME!”
Chaos erupted as two of the other agents dropped whatever was in their hands and rushed forward, throwing themselves into the fray.
Fists swung. Marcus Bremmer took Riven’s blow on the cheek. I watched his head snap backwards, his eyes rolling, before they swung back, narrowed with chilling rage.
“Get him the FUCK OFF ME,” he roared.
Hunter grabbed his brother, as did Mark, and pulled him off. “Hey!” The towering mountain snapped, forcing Riven’s gaze to his. “We’ll take care of this, okay?”
“Handcuff him!” Bremmer swiped the red mark on his cheek and winced as his other hand gestured at Thom.
“Hands behind your back,” one agent demanded, his shirt crumpled, his eyes wide.
But Thomas didn’t fight, just stared as Bremmer pushed himself up from the ground and brushed the dirt from his trousers. Then Thom extended his arms, his wrists together.
“No.” Bremmer stopped the agent. “Behind his back.”
“He’s not a goddamn risk!” I barked, desperation roaring through me. “He’s a priest, for fuck’s sake!”
“Priest, huh?” Bremmer just smiled, a cruel, calculating sneer as they pulled Thomas away from us. Bremmer’s cell chimed, causing him to drag it out. I saw the screen just as he answered. Riven shrugged Hunter and Mark off him, sucking in hard breaths as he murdered the asshole agent a thousand times with his stare. But it was the caller ID that chilled me.
“Yeah?” Bremmer answered, that icy stare fixed on me.
My pulse was pounding as I stepped forward.
H?
That’s what was on the screen. Just a single H.
Was that Hale?
I turned to Riven, who stared as Bremmer mumbled into his phone and turned away, striding for a sedan.
“Did you…” I whispered.
“What?” Riven scowled.
“The ID on that call. It had H. As in…”
“Hale.”
I lunged, racing after them as they pushed Thomas in the back seat of the sedan. “Don’t say a word!” I yelled, pressing my hands against the window. “Do you hear me? Don’t say a word. We’ll get you out of this.”
Car doors opened and closed.
The engine started.
Thomas turned to stare at me, his hands secured behind his back. But it wasn’t fear I saw in his eyes. It was resignation.
“We’ll get you out,” I promised. “We’ll get you out.”
The sedan pulled away, slipping from my touch. I stared at the rear window as he left, knowing in my gut what I’d seen. It was Hale that had called Bremmer. I knew it.
It was Hale.
