Ford glanced around the room, meeting their horrified expressions. “Now you tell me one man that’s capable of doing that in any branch of the military.”
“A made man,” Brian said, his gritty voice damn near scaring God. He sounded like he was getting over a bad case of strep. “Do you know why they call him Meridian?”
Most of them shook their heads, riveted on Brian’s words... or his unique voice.
“Because he’s the culmination of everything great our government has to offer. He’s the apex in any situation and he always will be. Then, as if he wasn’t dangerous enough, they put him with Ex. A pairing that couldn’t be more perfect if it was cooked up in a laboratory.”
“Shit,” God murmured.
“They’re not just CIA,” Ford chimed in. “They’re Black Ravens. And only six of them exist in the world. If you ask the director of the CIA if he’s heard of them, he’ll genuinely deny it. But if you ask someone on the fifth floor of the Pentagon about those names, you’ll soon find yourself gagged and working security at a Dave & Busters in Pineville, North Carolina.”
“Meaning?” Syn asked.
“Meaning that I suggest you set your targets on something else, and leave Ex and Meridian to whatever business they have here. They’re harmless here in the states but they will eliminate anyone who gets in the way of their mission,” Ford warned. “And the scariest part is there’s no one to stop them.”
God believed that, but he also knew that neither of the men who’d broken into his home wanted to harm them. Hell, they didn’t even attack Free.
“I fought one of those men, the bigger one, and they’re far from harmless,” Hart said, standing behind Free’s chair.
Ford shook his head slowly. “You didn’t fight Meridian... that’s impossible.”
“Excuse me.” Hart scowled.
“No excuses need to be made. If Meridian really fought you... we’d be following behind your partner in your procession right now.” Ford smirked.
Hart looked ready to spit fire but Syn tamped down the heated attitudes before they ignited the testosterone-fueled room. “We don’t want to fight them... or catch them. But we do want them gone.”
“They’ll leave.” Ford stood and took his black leather coat from the back of his chair, and his brother did the same, before he added. “When they’re ready.”
God’s phone buzzed on his hip and he quickly checked the text alert he had from an unknown number. He read the cryptic message a couple times before he bolted from his seat.
“Steele. You and the guys get to the Basilica Catholic church on Peachtree, now!”
“Well the DDA is in police custody, you guys,” Slade said from behind his laptop at the dining table. “Mr. Chuck Rowland Junior has been officially charged and processed at one-fifteen this afternoon on three felony counts of bribery.”
Ex glanced up from his screen and rubbed his tired eyes. He’d checked on his mother and made sure her house was staying safe until she was scheduled to move this weekend. “Now for the father that’s not intimidated easily.”
“I have an idea for that,” Meridian said, sitting across from him at his own computer. “I got Rowland Senior’s schedule.”
Ex locked gazes with his partner, feeling a stirring in his groin as he thought of what Meridian had put together. He liked it when he took command in the field, the direction was always smoother, cleaner than Ex’s. But that was because Ex liked to cause noise and make an example out of motherfuckers. He liked to leave a lasting impression.
Ex glared at Slade, wishing he could make him disappear. He didn’t have to come up to the cabin each time to do his work. If their driver hadn’t overstayed his welcome and made himself comfortable last night, then Ex would’ve been able to get enough of Meridian to sustain him until the next day. But he’d been deprived and now he was barely restraining himself from climbing over the table and settling into Meridian’s lap. Ex closed his eyes and began to count backwards from fifty. When he got to thirty-one, Meridian’s husky voice broke into his concentration.
“Slade. Bring the town car back at six. We’re going to a posh restaurant at the Hilton on Courtland, so dress the part,” Meridian instructed.
“No problem.” Slade got up and packed his stuff into his briefcase and left them alone. Finally.
Ex continued to sit there as his body wound itself into a tight ball of need. He clenched his fists in front of him, glaring at his partner.
“What are you waiting on?” Meridian growled, aggressively pushing his chair away from the table and spreading his legs wide.
Ex bit his bottom lip, wishing he had the upper hand or some leverage, but he didn’t. He was completely at his partner’s mercy and the asshole knew it. Ex marched to the bedroom and got the lube out of the nightstand drawer and hurried back. Meridian had his T-shirt shoved up his chest and was unbuttoning his jeans when Ex came and stood in front of him. He tossed the lube onto the table then pushed his sweats down his legs—glad he’d gone without underwear—and kicked them somewhere under the chair. His dick was red and angry as he straddled Meridian’s thighs then settled his ass over his hips.