Page 116 of Green Ravens

Valor

Valor took point with Zorion close behind and the Browns taking up the rear.

The chopper pilot dropped them off on the helipad of the building that was now considered thenewRavens facility.

A huge renovated four-story warehouse nestled in the bustling metropolis of Washington DC—hidden in plain sight.

Valor didn’t notice the name of the building, but it was most likely an inconspicuous business—like Resource Management, Logistics Solutions, or Building Group—that would be ignored by passersby.

A group of men rushed toward the aircraft, and if Valor hadn’t noticed Sable, their weapon’s specialist, leading them, they might have been on the receiving end of his defense.

“That compound bow better be in the same state-of-the-art condition it was when I gave it to you, Zorion,” she grumbled on her way past. “You may wield it, but it’smybaby.”

The rooftop door was held open for them by an armed guard who gave them a respectful nod on their way past.

The interior of the building whispered of secrecy.

Stark lighting lined the ceiling in sharp lines, illuminating the clean, industrial-style stairwell. Every level they passed felt more alive, like descending through the veins of a heart.

There was a lot of motion on level two. A dozen or so technicians at work, hunched over consoles with well-lit screens.

One woman glanced up as they passed but quickly glanced in the other direction, her expression a mix of awe and nervousness. The Greens were now just as legendary as the Blacks and the Browns.

Valor’s muscles remained coiled, his instincts telling him not to relax just yet.

By the time they reached the fourth sub-level, the air felt different, warmer, laced with the clean scent of metal and ozone.

A warehouse unfolded before them that was at least the size of a football field.

Jo hadn’t just secured a facility. She’d built a stronghold.

A glass-walled area labeledRecords and Datawas to the left. Heavy-duty crates were stacked high on the right. In the far back was a raised platform with a large circular table that resembled a war chamber disguised as a boardroom.

A man approached them, maneuvering around plumbing pipes and wires hanging from the ceiling like exposed nerves.

“Ren,” Zorion muttered.

The man standing in front of them had changed. He no longer wore regulation green. He had on civilian tactical gear, his sleeves rolled up his corded forearms, and a data pad in his hand.

His posture was wary and humble.

“I didn’t know,” Ren murmured, not meeting their eyes. “I didn’t know what they were doing to you in there. I shouldn’t have been so fuckin’ naïve.”

Valor looked at Zorion, receiving a small nod.

“I see Jo has quite a few people here from the facility.” Zorion glanced around at the familiar faces.

“Yeah, a lot of us were kept in the dark on all the bullshit the director was up to. But still…” Ren mumbled.

Valor clamped the man on his shoulder, causing him to wince.

“My bad.” Valor chuckled.

Sometimes, he forgot how much force was in his fists.

“Ren, trust what I say when I tell you we don’t fault anyone for another man’s deeds.”

“Jo made me your project manager again. If you’ll allow it. She said it’s your choice.”

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