POV: Cole
The compound went dark in under ten seconds—generators cut, floodlights dead, the whole world reduced to headlights and the crunch of gravel under boots. Cole hit the tree line at a dead run, Viper already ahead of him, both of them peeling wide toward the gate where the vehicles had stopped just short of the fence line, engines idling like predators deciding whether the trap was worth springing. Where they here for the war already? Or was this some elaborate distraction for something bigger fixing to happen? Only time would tell.
"Four trucks. Count 'em." Ghost's voice, flat and precise, came through the earpiece. "Not cartel. Not local muscle either. Too clean."
"Contractors," Cole said. Geoffrey's kind of money bought exactly this—men who didn't wear colors, didn't leave p
