Chapter Sixteen
Lance
“I’m so sorry, Lance, but it’s going to be at least another three days,” Lucinda Torres said, and she did sound truly apologetic. “But my supplier is out of that cotton canvas I needed, and he’s waiting for his supplier to restock. From what he told me, it sounds as if it’s sitting in a container at the Port of Los Angeles. Something about a dockworkers’ strike, I hear.”
He managed to refrain from swearing and even muttered something along the lines of, “I know it’s not your fault,” before he touched the screen to end the call and tossed the phone on the passenger seat of his Jeep.
A delay was the last thing he needed. What he really wanted to do was load up the 4x4 with every gun and incendiary device he owned, drive out to Secret Canyon, and stage a commando rai
