Shane fucking loved seeing Crystal engaged, willing to fight. It meant she could weather the stress of the situation. And it was damn sexy, too.
“Wait. In the middle of all this, you’re throwing a party?” Ike asked, disbelief darkening his expression.
Marz chuffed out a laugh. “No. It’s a ruse. We pretended to be planning a party as a way to plant surveillance inside. Now we can use the scheduled party itself to get Jenna.” He flew forward in his seat. “Aw, hell, I didn’t call with the head-count information. Let me do that right now.” The call didn’t take long. Marz confirmed the party, made the reservation randomly for twelve people, and was off the phone again in under five minutes. “All set,” he said with a smile.
“Good. Now, what do we do about the second delivery?” Beckett asked, resting his elbows on his knees. “That’s supposed to be tomorrow night, too.” And probably at about the same time, if the previous night’s meeting was any guide.
Shane nodded. “Yes, that’s what Garza said.”
“Question is,” Marz said, “what’s our goal? More fact-finding, which is valuable since we’re still identifying the players at this point. Or are we hoping to intervene this time?” Shane’s gut clenched. If there were more women involved, he didn’t think he could stand by and watch them get stolen away.
Nick turned to Ike. “Well, I think the answer to that question depends on whether we have any assistance.”
“I’m lost again,” Ike said. Nick caught him up on what had happened Wednesday night and what little they knew about Friday. Ike blew out a long breath. “You guys are fighting a war with a goddamned stick,” he said, shaking his head.
“Doing the best we can with what we have,” Easy said, tension sliding into his voice.
“I believe it,” Ike said, looking each man in the eye. “But it wouldn’t be smart to run the rescue with just the group of you. It’d be suicidal to try to handle both tasks on your own. Impossible, probably.”
Nick folded his arms and nailed Ike with a stare. “Agreed. Not sure what kinds of options we have, though.”
The question hung in the air for a long moment.
Ike sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I have some resources at my disposal. But they’re not cheap. And they don’t ride without putting it to a vote. That’ll take a little time.”
The mention of money made Crystal’s expression drop. Shane squeezed her leg, trying to let her know it would be okay.
“You know exactly how much time we have,” Nick said. He glanced around the room. “What kind of resources are we talking? And what kind of cost?”
“Something like this? Safest to involve the whole club. That’s twenty-eight men with weapons, ammo, and the know-how to use them. Cost is probably mid-to-high five figures. Or, if whatever this delivery is goes our way, a cut of the assets.” Ike shrugged. “That’s just how it works.”
On the one hand, Shane resented the price tag attached to the offer of help. On the other, Ike and the Ravens, if they came through, might represent the boots and guns they needed to be competitive against Church, whoever those boatmen were, and whoever WEC was, once the team discovered their identity.
Shane saw the subtle nods go around as Nick silently surveyed the men. It was unanimous. Nick turned to Ike. “We’re interested, and we’ve got the resources you’re describing.” Thanks to Becca’s willingness to use her father’s life insurance for this mission. And, once they found the password to Merritt’s Singapore account, they’d have even more. “Now we just need to know how soon the Ravens might be able to make a decision.”
Chapter 20
It was only seven thirty at night, but Crystal felt like she’d been awake for days. Maybe longer. Despite the way her brain raced with worry over Jenna and with anticipation over the plan Shane’s friends had put in place to rescue her, Crystal’s limbs felt heavy and sluggish, her eyes stung, and her body just . . . hurt.
Yet none of that compared to what Jenna had to be going through. God, she’d had a seizure from the stress of the attack. She must’ve been so scared. And now she was alone in that pit of a room, the walls, floor, and ceiling all painted a deadening, solid black, along with the bed and the bedding. At least, that’s the way it had been four years ago. A sensory-deprivation chamber meant to disorient, break down, and heighten a person’s reactions to what took place within.
God, please let her be alone. Crystal shuddered and prayed that, just this once, Jenna’s epilepsy might prove an advantage. If her seizure had been bad, she could be semiconscious at best all night and into tomorrow. Maybe the postseizure symptoms she often had, the raspy breathing, vomiting, moaning, and tremors, would dissuade anyone from bothering her. It wasn’t much of a hope to hang on to, but it was something.
As soon as the discussion and brainstorming came to an end, Ike rose, shook everyone’s hands, and promised to be in touch. The man might’ve been in a rival gang, and his size and hard edges—with the bald head and large expanses of ink—might’ve been a little intimidating, but he’d also been gruffly kind and openly sympathetic to what’d happened to Jenna. Not everyone was like Bruno and the other Apostles. It was a good lesson to remember.
“All right,” Nick said, rising. “We’re going to need to be sharp tomorrow. So everyone sleep tonight.” He seemed especially to direct that comment at Derek, sitting at one of the computers.
“Trust me. I will. But I’m gonna keep an eye on the feeds from Confessions while I finish up the last of these searches and download Crystal’s pictures,” Derek said. Crystal had liked him since the night at the club. He was friendly and funny and easygoing. All of these guys were so different from the ones she’d been forced to hang around the past few years. Her gaze slid to big, quiet, serious-looking Beckett, working on his cell phone. Except for maybe that guy. He was a little scary.
“Good. I’m going to go check on Becca and Charlie. Feel free to grab me if you need me,” Nick said, then he turned to her. “It’s nice to meet you, Crystal. I’m sorry it wasn’t under better circumstances. But we’ll try to make that right tomorrow.”
She shouldn’t have been stunned by his kindness, but she kinda was. “Thank you,” she managed. “Thanks to all of you.”
Murmured expressions of welcome went around, and Nick headed out.
“Would you come with me?” Shane asked, something warm and intense in his gaze.
“Yeah.” Part of her feared being alone with him—for the first time with no danger of being caught, but part of her craved it.
Crystal gave the other guys a small wave, then she and Shane cut across the big warehouse room. It was an odd space. Only partially finished. Mostly a gym, Marz’s obviously thrown-together computer station filled one corner and an equally thrown-together table that appeared able to seat ten or twelve dominated another. “Where exactly are we?” she asked. She’d been in little position to pay much attention on the ride over here, but it felt strange not knowing where she was.
Shane opened the door for Crystal. “Off Eastern Avenue not far from the harbor. Above a tattoo shop called Hard Ink that belongs to Nick and Jeremy.”
“And you all know each other from the Army?”
He entered the code at a door across a wide industrial hallway. “Not Jeremy or Ike, but the rest of us.”
As in the five men from a twelve-man team who had survived what sounded like a horrific attack.
When Nick had recounted to Ike the events that led to the group of them being in this situation, Crystal had listened with interest and sadness for Shane. As if the loss of his little sister wasn’t enough, Shane had also gone through that ambush, lost a bunch of his friends, then had been forced out of the Army. That was a lot for anyone to bear.