Page 131 of Broken Wheels

He was trusting them with the most important person in his life.

“Where’s the coffee and pastries?” Jazz whined. “It’s only four in the morning, and if I don’t have fuel, I’m gonna crash.” She pouted. “And I got no sleep on the flight here. I can never sleep on a plane.”

“Focus, Jazz,” Dix snapped. “This is literally a matter of life and death, and that’s not even hyperbole. If these people get hold of Josh, he’s a dead man.”

She straightened in her seat, her eyes focused. “Sorry, sir.”

Grayson appeared from the galley at the rear of the plane, pushing a cart, and Dix had to smile. “Talk about great timing. Grayson, you’re a lifesaver.” On the cart were carafes of fresh coffee, plus leftover croissants and Danish he’d pulled from the coolers before they left. He’d also snagged a few fruit cups.

Good man. Sugar plus caffeine would keep this group’s brains sharp.

“I don’t know how long you’ll be here, but if you need breakfast or lunch later, let me know and I’ll put it together for you.” Grayson returned Dix’s smile. “Once the stores open, of course.”

“We might take you up on it.”

Grayson glanced at the team. “If that’s all, I’ll go back to my homework. I’ve got plenty to keep me busy. Just give me a shout if you need anything.”

“Is there anything we can do for you? I know this isn’t the ideal setting for studying.”

He chuckled. “I’ve got a table, so I’m good.” Grayson turned and headed back toward the galley.

Dix would have to talk to Michael and Gary about finding a better job for Grayson at some point. He’d never met anyone as willing to help out as Grayson had been.

Then he realized no one had made a move toward the cart. He’d expected a feeding frenzy. Dix pointed to it. “Don’t wait for me, help yourselves.” God knew he needed coffee, preferably delivered intravenously.

Jazz shook her head. “No, I’m good. I should have taken this more seriously. I’m sorry.”

Dix’s chest swelled. My team. Sure, they could play, but when the chips were down, they never failed him. He rolled his eyes. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Get something to eat and caffeinate yourselves. This is going to take a while, and I don’t want anyone nodding off during the discussion, or the extraction if it gets to that point.” As if they’d do that.

Everyone stood and made a quick grab of items from the cart, then retook their seats. They didn’t wolf them down but simply nibbled and slurped, all their attention on Dix.

He leaned against the seat. “Okay, let me start by saying this will be a joint operation. Since the person we’re after isn’t a client, our role is limited, so we can’t kill to protect him.”

“Sure, take away the fun,” Carl Winters groused.

Dix bit back a laugh. “I know the feeling, believe me. Right, I’m assuming you all went through the dossier I forwarded you last night.” There were nods from everyone. “You’ve met Special Agent Chalmers. Our target is David Carson, his boss, who’s been helping to protect Josh too, at the risk to his own life. For those of you who don’t know, his family is currently at CrossBow so no one can retaliate against them. I trust him with Josh’s safety, just like I trust each of you.”

He expected a bit of teasing about his attachment, but they said nothing.

“Anyway, our intelligence is sketchy and the source isn’t necessarily reliable. She was Spencer’s assistant and brought in files to help us out.”

“That was good of her,” Jazz said, her voice thick with sarcasm.

“Yeah, that’s what I said. If it wasn’t this important, I’d toss her out and watch her burn.”

“Any of us would, Dix,” Parnell said. “Josh is one of us, and you don’t fuck with our people.”

Warmth flooded Dix. He mentally filed the comment away to relay it to Doc later. He has no idea how important he is to everyone.

“Spencer has a facility in Santa Ana, and Chalmers has gone there, along with five federal agents sent along to protect him. He has Josh’s drones and is taking aerial surveillance to give us a better lay of the land.”

“What kind of facility?” Parnell folded his arms. “Do we know anything about it?”

“It’s a storage place for all the supplies Spencer’s teams use for their cleanups,” Dix told him. “Not open to the public, but they’ve made an effort to make it look good. There’s even a garden.” He scowled. “Yeah, more about that in a minute. Because, you know, enough pretty can hide the ugly that’s actually going on inside.”

“So we believe Carson is in that building?” Darr asked.

Dix nodded. “According to our source, he’ll be held on the east side, which is the most defensible position.” He narrowed his gaze. “Now, I’m going to tell you something, and you’d better fucking listen. Protect each other. If you have to kill someone to do it, you fucking kill them.”

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