Page 32 of Crossfire Creek Siege

Corrine’s veneer of calm finally cracked. She turned sharply toward Noah, her eyes flashing. “This is your doing,” she hissed, voice low and venomous.

Again, Noah didn’t rise to it. He just leveled that hard, flat stare at her, the kind that could cut through steel. The silence stretched until it was clear he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of a response.

Then, Noah’s phone buzzed.

He glanced down at the screen, his jaw tightening. “Excuse me,” he said, and motioned for Rena and Gage to follow.

They stepped out into the hallway, and as soon as the door shut behind them, Noah took the call. “Yeah, Isla,” he said. “Talk to me.”

Rena could hear Isla’s voice faintly through the speaker—fast, clipped, urgent. Noah’s expression went from stone-cold to razor-sharp.

When he ended the call, he blew out a breath. “The techs traced the chopper that got away.”

Rena’s pulse picked up. “Where?” she couldn’t ask fast enough.

“About ten miles from here,” Noah explained. “An old training facility. It’s registered under a shell company that went dark three years ago.”

“Any activity?” Gage asked.

Noah shook his head. “They ran a drone sweep. No heat signatures, no movement. But I don’t buy that it’s empty. I want eyes on it.”

He glanced between them, all commander again now, no trace of the man who’d just faced down his ex. “I’m staying here to monitor the interviews with Danner and Halden. You two go check out the site. I’ll have Isla text you the coordinates.”

Rena nodded, adrenaline already sparking through her fatigue. “Who’s going with us?”

“Cal and Garrett,” Noah said. “They’ll meet you there.” He looked at them both. “Stay sharp. If that facility ties back to the siege, you might be walking straight into the next fight.”

Chapter Ten

Gage’s head was still spinning, and Corrine’s words were looping through his brain like shrapnel.

Maybe every bit of what she’d said was a pack of lies, or maybe there was some truth buried in there, something she was manipulating to her advantage. Either way, it didn’t matter right now. They had a lead, and that was what counted.

Rena and he stepped out of the sheriff’s office into the thick Texas heat, but before they even made it to the SUV, both their phones dinged at once. Gage pulled his out and saw a text from Isla. Coordinates, a pinned location, and a short note.

Old training facility. 10.3 miles northwest. No visible road access. Proceed with caution.

“Middle of nowhere,” Rena muttered, reading the text.

“Yeah.” Gage slipped his phone into his pocket. “Exactly the kind of place someone would stash a couple of choppers and a small army.”

She shot him a look that said she agreed and maybe wished she didn’t.

Gage caught some movement from the corner of his eye and spotted the guy approaching them. Tall, lean, dressed in jeans and a button-up shirt. His dark blond hair was neatly trimmed in a way that looked deliberate rather than fussy, and his pale blue eyes were sharp. Calculating, not tired. The kind of gaze that suggested he noticed everything and filed it away for later use.

Rhett’s gaze locked on them instantly. Gage had never met the man, but it was obvious that Rhett knew exactly who they were.

“Kellan. Calloway,” Rhett greeted. His voice carried that smug rasp of recognition, a tone that didn’t quite reach friendly. “Crossfire’s cleanup crew, huh?”

Gage didn’t bother correcting him. Rena and he exchanged a quick glance, silent agreement passing between them. Don’t rise to the bait.

Unlike Corrine with her polished calm and media-ready smile, Rhett wasn’t even pretending to play nice. His body language screamed contempt. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, but there was a sharpness to his stance, a coil of tension that said he was spoiling for a fight, verbal or otherwise.

Rhett stopped a few feet from them, a scowl tightening his face. “Where’s your fearless leader?” he asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “Is Riggs too busy spinning damage control to show his face?”

Gage kept his voice even, calm. “Noah’s inside. On the trail of the coward asshole who tried to kill a hangar full of kids.”

The change in Rhett was instant. The smirk vanished. His jaw clenched, muscle ticking hard along his cheek. A flicker of something—pain, rage—passed through his eyes before he masked it again.