BULLETPROOF HEART

THE BONEYARD

BULLETPROOF HEART - CHAPTER 10: THE BONEYARD

Amara was asleep. Finally.

Her breathing slow, even, her hand curled in his shirt. Safe.

Marcus stared at the phone screen until it went black.

_YOU HAVE MY DRIVE. I HAVE YOUR BROTHER._

Caleb.

Two years ago. Bayelsa. The pipeline job that went wrong. Price said Caleb's boat capsized. No body found. Marcus quit the next day.

And now a text.

It could be a lie. Price lies the way other people breathe.

But it could be true.

He carefully, slowly, lifted Amara's head off his chest and placed it on the pillow. She murmured but didn't wake.

He wrote a note on the back of the nurse's prescription pad:

_Amara - Had to check something. Stay inside base. Lock door. I will be back before you wake. Don't follow. - M_

Then he slipped out, barefoot so his boots wouldn't squeak, and took the back window. First floor. Easy drop.

The night guard at the motor pool was half asleep. Marcus took the old Hilux again. Same keys still in it.

The Boneyard Oil Field was 45 minutes north. Abandoned Shell facility. Flare stacks that never stopped burning. A place where people disappeared.

He drove with his headlights off until he hit the main road.

---

At 4:17 AM, Amara woke up cold.

The bed was empty. The note was on the pillow.

She read it twice, then crumpled it.

"Stupid, noble, American idiot."

She didn't lock the door. She ran to her father's room in the hoodie and slippers and banged.

"Papa! He left! Price has his brother!"

Chief Opobo was awake instantly. The kind of man who sleeps with one eye open.

"Price? That snake?"

Within ten minutes, the war room was back: Chief, Amara, two of Chief's men, the Interpol woman — Agent Rousseau.

Rousseau looked at the text Amara forwarded from Marcus's phone — he had left his phone behind by mistake.

"He's walking into an execution," Rousseau said. "Price doesn't do exchanges. And we still need Marcus as a witness for the drive. If he dies, Dele walks."

Amara grabbed a tactical vest from the table — too big for her, but she strapped it anyway.

"Then we go get him."

Chief looked at his daughter — barefoot yesterday, now putting on a vest like she'd done it her whole life.

"Amara-"

"No, Papa. You said no one owns your daughter. You were right. I'm not his to protect from a base. I'm his partner. Rule 4, remember? No more being noble and stupid. That goes for me too."

Chief stared at her, then, slowly, smiled that same stubborn smile.

"Get me my shotgun," he told his man. "And call the Air Force boys. Tell them the oil princess wants her man back."

Amara, Chief, and four soldiers pulled out of Gate 2 at 4:41 AM, heading north, into the dark.

Ahead, the Boneyard's gas flares lit the sky orange.

Marcus was already there, standing in the middle of the empty field, hands up, gun on the ground.

And from the shadows of the old oil tanks, Price walked out.

Not alone.

With a young man, thin, bearded, hands tied — who looked exactly like Marcus, but younger.

Caleb was alive.

Price smiled.

"Hello, Marcus. Told you blood is always the leash."

---

*END OF CHAPTER 10*