Page 101 of Brew
I roll my eyes. “I thought she wanted an annulment.”
“She did.” He clears his throat. “But that doesn’t mean I have to give her one.”
“That the story you’re goin’ with?”
“She’ll come to her senses,” he maintains, though he’s been saying that for as long as I can remember.
We secure our weapons and move in on Willow’s count as the cargo is about to be lowered onto the dock. Everyone is in place. Men are on the dock, posing as Grid members, and our friend with the missing tooth and a broken nose? Well, he had to sit this one out, so we brought the next in charge. He’s packed with explosives, so if he even thinks about warning anyone, they’ll all go up in flames. That was my little present in case he decided to squeal.
The fact that they have women in these cargo containers makes my blood run cold. Heartless monsters don’t even come close. They don’t value human life. They value money, nothingelse. Wealth, greed, and power. Anything less than that is a commodity.
As we storm the hold, undercover cops and Rebels appear everywhere, catching the men off guard. Even the security they had in place doesn’t stand a chance with snipers dotted around the entire compound, ready to disarm.
I haven’t done anything this intense in a while, but I’m not surprised how easily old habits fall into place. It really is like riding a bike.
I tackle the first guard, kicking his gun out of his hands when I sneak up on him by surprise. The fact that this entire operation is under the clover of darkness helps.
What’s more astounding is how they clearly thought they were gonna get away with it. I guess they thought they had an ally on the force, and that was probably mistake number one. I love it when people think that because they have a high ranking in their profession, they feel as if that exempts them from any consequences. Even though we were always aware the museum curator, Bellamy, was never gonna show up to receive the goods, the money exchanged into his foreign bank accounts kind of gave it away. Good hackers aren’t that hard to find when you’re a Rebel, and the boys have been busy ever since we got wind about his involvement, and this Evans idiot. One more crooked criminal put away is a good one, and Willow won’t let anyone slip away.
Putting her in charge was the best thing this city has ever done.
I choke him until he drops, then dump his lifeless body, take his weapon, and keep running. They had more men inside than expected, and when gunfire sounds, we duck for cover.
“Fuck,” Haze mutters.
“You hit?”
“Nah, but I sure as shit felt the wind beneath my wings just now.”
“Keep your motherfuckin’ head down,” I tell him. “If you get shot, I’ll be the one explainin’ to Mom.”
“Speakin’ of which, she’s not happy about us bein’ gone the entire time she’s been here,” he whispers.
“Can we talk about this later? A little busy here.” I shoot the next two men who come running out of the hold, not understanding they’re completely surrounded, and the only way to go is down. Weak. They deserve it, knowing full well what they’re involved in.
“How do we fuckin’ know who’s who?” Nevada slides beside me, gun drawn. “Not like we can pull their masks down and make sure before we take them out.”
“We could, but it’d be time consumin’,” I say. “I’ll bet he’s makin’ his getaway from the front, if he’s caught wind of what’s even goin’ on.” We haven’t gotten to the cargo hold yet, but the gunfire was sure to have been heard.
“They came prepared,” Nevada says. “Thought they were gonna get away with it, too. Would love to be a fly on the wall when we saw his face.”
“If he gets away...” I mutter.
“He won’t,” Haze assures me. “There’s no way to go except into the water.”
I glance at my brother. “You’re gonna make me go in there if he jumps, aren’t you?”
“You’re a stronger swimmer.”
“Right, and if I wasn’t, you’d still make me go in there.”
“Do you two ever quit bickerin’?” Nevada grips his gun as we move forward once more. “You’re like two little old ladies.”
I ignore his quip as we delve deeper into the ship. The girls won’t be kept in glorious conditions, but the life they were aboutto embark on would’ve been so far away from the American dream it would be unrecognizable.
This is why we do what we do. This is why I chose to devote my life to helping others, because this is no fate for any living person. Especially ones picked up off the street, stolen, drugged, you name it. Some are even promised a better life working in restaurants or factories, but that’s never the case. There’s more money to be made by their abusers in sex trafficking.
My cell chimes, and I see Harlem’s name on the screen. “Dude, we got him.”
