“The name of the container was a forgery.”
“Figures.”
“Half the time I spent working this was determining that proof. The other half was following it up the chain.”
“Up the chain?” I asked. “What are we talking about here? Are there a lot of people on this? An organization, maybe?”
“No organization,” EagleEye calmly confirmed, “but a lot of mystery. Whoever owns that container wants nobody to find them under any circumstances.”
“What are you telling me?” I asked.
EagleEye sighed deeply. “Hunter, I haven’t seen this kind of security over a single box before. Whatever is in that thing can’t be good.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“It probably is,” she replied. “There was nothing in the records indicating that it had ever been opened. There isn’t a soul in that port that knows what’s in there, or who owns it.”
“But you know,” I pressed forward. “You followed it up the chain. You know who owns that thing.”
“I do,” she replied. “And maybe that should be the end of it. You can hang up right now and I’ll forget you ever asked about that container.”
“My girlfriend is chasing after this thing. I’ve got to know what we’re dealing with here, and how deep this shit goes.”
“Is that your final answer?”
“This isn’t a fucking game show,” I told her, starting to lose my patience. “Are you going to give me a goddamn name or not?”
The line went quiet for a moment.
“Soroka Sarkonov.”
My vision went fuzzy in an instant, and I became very, very aware of my breathing.
Oh god, no.
“I take it that you grasp the gravity of your situation now.”
“Yeah… I’ve only heard stories, but the few times that name came up were in some very dark circles,” I replied.
“Whatever stories you know, I can probably confirm them,” my associate replied over the line.
“I understand Soroka Sarkonov to be one of the deadliest and most dangerous international arms dealers in the world,” I told her. “Death and destruction follows that goddamn name. She’s so far up the fucking food chain I thought she was a myth.”
“She’s real, Hunter,” EagleEye told me. “She’s not an organization, or a crime syndicate, or even a group. She is a single woman, a very dangerous woman who lets others do her dirty work. She calls them her proxies… And I can only imagine that she is very angry that her container has gone missing…”
“Did you get any leads on the container?”
EagleEye paused. “Hunter, once I realized who I was dealing with, I trashed all of my equipment and bought this burner phone… But it wasn’t enough.”
A silence fell over the line.
What the hell does she mean it ‘wasn’t enough?’
“Are you there?”
Her distant voice came through. “I’m going off-grid, Hunter. Don’t try to contact me again. But before I go, I have a message for you.”
“A message from who?”
“From our friend, Soroka…”
I paused for a moment, then held the phone tighter against my ear.
“Go ahead…”
“Soroka says that you need to help Sarah find the crate. If you don’t, she’s going to kill her… slowly.”
Before I could respond, the line went dead. White hot anger mixed with cold fear. Nobody threatens my woman. Nobody threatens my unborn child. I’d find this fucking container, and when I returned it to its rightful owner, I’d show her just how big of a mistake she just made.
Soroka Sakonov just made an enemy.
Sarah
My morning sickness and pregnancy symptoms had been really starting to act up, although I hadn’t let Hunter see any of that.
I stayed tired.
My breasts were always tender.
Peeing was constantly on the agenda.
Wicked food cravings were my life.
I kept my shit together because I had a case to solve, a biker to scrutinize for fatherhood potential, and a long-lost sister to said biker baby daddy thrown into the mix.
Life was getting pretty strange.
Unfortunately, it turned out that Daddy’s friends trying to dig up information on the Port of Los Angeles were coming up with dead ends. They confirmed that a major chunk of the port was under the thumb of the Los Angeles Devil’s Dragons, but that was nothing I didn’t already know.
Which reminded me that I hadn’t quite gotten around to telling him about Hunter and this pregnancy…
As far as Daddy was concerned, Hunter disappeared from my life eight years ago, after he narrowly escaped a police raid that claimed the lives of some of his club members. He knew that I never quite got over my childhood love, but when I threw my life into following in his footsteps, concern soon swelled into pride.
I shuddered to think how that situation would change when I finally dropped the bomb.
Unfortunately, involving him in my case hadn’t produced much in the progress department. I was no closer to finding that stupid storage container.
I was starting to think this whole trip might be a bust…
On top of that, my fears with Hunter continued unresolved. We got along pretty great, except when it came to the case. His resistance to stepping into Talon’s territory was getting old, and that was seriously holding me back.
Sure. Hunter had told me some pretty spooky stories about the guy.
But he couldn’t be all that bad.
What was the worst that he was going to do, have us thrown out? It was a huge port. There was no reason that we couldn’t just sneak back in and do a little investigation under nightfall.
At least there was Hannah.
Hunter’s sister was fucking awesome. She impartially listened to my complaints without spitting them back out to her brother. Years apart had made her pretty good at the business of keeping secrets, and she made a good sounding board for some of my troubles.
Hannah understood my need for independence. Hell, she even encouraged it. She told me I should keep looking for this container no matter what. If I was going to make it in this world, I needed to be sure I could do it with or without Hunter… It was an interesting but welcome perspective, balancing out from Hunter’s notions of what I should and shouldn’t know, and what I should and shouldn’t do…
I knew that he didn’t quite oppose me on my desires to pursue the case, but I was just waiting for the day that he decided to go off the deep end with it.
I didn’t have to wait long.
Having adopted the habit of taking a drive to clear my head during frustrations over the case, I was just paying out at a diner for lunch when I got the phone call that would change
everything.
Something loomed in the air as I glanced at the caller ID, but I ignored my gut reactions and took a deep breath.
I picked up the phone. “Hunter?”
“Princess, something’s happened. You and I have got a serious fucking problem on our hands.”
There was something about the tone in his voice that was new. The only time that I’d ever heard him this rattled was when Hannah went missing in Mexico…
“What is it?” I asked tentatively.
Hunter took a deep breath against the other end, and then hit me with the bad news:
“You have to drop this case.”
“What?” I was dumbfounded.
There was no way that I was doing that.
“Hear me out,” he pleaded down the line. “We just found out who owns that missing box, and I’m gonna be taking care of this one without you.”
“You’ve gotta be shitting me.”
“I wish I was, babe. Honestly, I do. But you’re gonna have to walk away from this one. I want you out of here by tomorrow. I have a safehouse you can stay at until everything blows over. I’m scared of what might happen to you.”
No way, I told myself.
Is he just trying to keep me dependent?
“This is coming from the guy who struck down a Mexican cartel twice,” I reminded him, shoving my doubts back down for the moment. “I thought you were fearless. Where the hell is that indomitable spirit?”
“Princess, I’m alive today because I know when to fold ‘em. You’re putting yourself and our baby in some seriously deep shit. I’ll take care of this, and once I do, I’ll come back to you…”
He did sound legitimately alarmed. Either he was acting, or something had shaken him. “Let me ask you something, Hunter… who the hell scared you this bad?”
Hunter took a deep breath.
“Your detective’s missing container belongs to Soroka Sarkonov, an international arms dealer. I know the name means nothing to you, but Soroka is more dangerous than you can possibly imagine.”
He seemed rattled, but how dangerous could she really be? Who was one woman in comparison to the Viboras Verde?