Page 45 of Buried in Blood
He doesn’t flinch. “Understood.”
“I want full silence once you hit the perimeter,” I continue. “No calls. No check-ins. If anyone contacts you asking for changes, assume they’re compromised. That includes Reese.”
“And if Reese deviates?”
“Kill him.”
Enrique nods once, like I just asked him to take out the trash.
I move to the desk and slide over a sealed envelope. “Coordinates. Burn after reading.”
He pockets it without looking. “When do we move?”
“Friday. Midnight.”
He nods again, turns toward the door, but pauses. “And Harmony?”
I stiffen. “What about her?”
“Just… wondering where she fits in all this.”
I clench my jaw. “Where she always has. As mine.”
Enrique doesn’t push. He knows better.
He just leaves.
I stare at the door for a long moment after it shuts.
Two trucks. Two men I don’t trust.
But only one plan that matters.
And they will not even see it coming.
* * *
The sky is ink. Black and endless.
Perfect for a lie.
Two trucks rumble outside the warehouse, engines low and threatening like the growl of a beast too tired to pretend it isn’t starving anymore. Reese and Enrique each take one—manifest copies in hand, routes memorized, kill orders embedded in their bones.
The fake girls have already been moved to the staging cages. Our real prisoners are still happily locked away.
They are not the real shipment. Just the ones that’ll be seen. Heard. Followed. We make it loud. Sloppy. Intentional.
“Security routes are doubled?” I ask without turning around.
Reese nods once. “Tripled.”
“Good. Keep it that way. If anyone makes contact, you follow through. No improvisation. No last-minute instincts. You don’t get to think tonight. You get to obey.”
His jaw tics, but he doesn’t argue. Enrique, already in the driver’s seat of Truck Two, doesn’t even look over.
I turn to Reese. “Keep the radio on channel four. I want to hear every breath you take until you hit the outer perimeter. After that—radio silence.”
“Yes, sir.”
