Page 75 of Hart of Redemption
“Bro,” Denim said.
Dillon leaned over slightly in the passenger seat of the Explorer. “Ted should be here in five minutes.”
“I still don’t like having a cop here,” Rosario complained.
“You agreed,” Denim lobbed her way.
She mumbled under her breath. I didn’t care whether she agreed. I was saving Grace at all costs.
“Are you guys ready?” I asked.
Both my brothers were dressed in black and wore skull caps, the same as me.
Dillon bit his lip. “Mateo is going down tonight.”
“Stay safe, bro,” Denim added.
After a quick nod, I drove away, ready to end Mateo once and for all.
28
FALLYN
It had taken me forty minutes to drive the five miles to South Boston. The damn fog was dangerous. I had to keep my speed at thirty miles an hour and sometimes less to ensure I didn’t crash into a vehicle in front of me.
To make matters worse, the soupy air was thicker the closer I got to the water, which was where the third junkyard was. I’d driven by the first but didn’t see any activity. Nor did it look like a place where metal was crushed. The second junkyard did indeed belong to a towing service, but I had hit pay dirt with the third because two men with assault rifles were guarding the gate.
I dumped my dad’s car on the side street of a small business park, grabbed binoculars that my dad had in his trunk, and secured the pouch around my waist like a fanny pack. Then I tucked my service weapon in the small of my back, pulled out my smaller gun from my boot, and booked it on foot. There was a road that led to the back of the junkyard. I had no idea if Mateo owned the property, although Gwen was checking out all three junkyards.
The team was also scrambling to engage, but considering the weather, nobody would be here anytime soon. Apparently, Agent Howard had gotten stuck in DC because of the fog in Boston, so he was calling in backup. I’d told Gwen during our phone call after I left the Monarch to reach out to Ted Hughes.
My phone vibrated against me as I approached the north side of the yard. I checked to be sure it was Gwen before I pressed my earbud.
“Fallyn, the team watching Rosario says she hasn’t left the hotel,” Gwen said. “Are you sure the meeting is today?”
“Yes, Amber told me Duke was going to get Grace today. It might not be right now, but it’s going down today. Maybe Rosario decided not to come. She could be wary that we’re lurking. Did you call Ted Hughes?”
“He’s not answering,” she said. “Bruce and I have backup. We’re packing up now.”
“I found the right junkyard, I think. I’ll text you the location.”
“Don’t engage until we get there,” she said adamantly.
“I’ll do my best.” I tapped my earbud to end the call and sent her a quick text.
As I was walking up and down the perimeter, examining the fence for any openings, I spied movement and stilled.
The figures were coming my way. I slunk backward in the tall brush and tripped over something. I couldn’t stop my fall. Luckily, my ass hit the ground—or rather, a pipe, I thought.
Pain careened up my spine as I swallowed a grunt. I quickly adjusted my body, lying on my stomach, thanking whoever was listening for the fog.
“Anyone out there?” a male voice called.
“Sheesh, it’s probably rodents running around out there,” another man said. “Come on. Gustavo will have our hides if we fuck this up. We’re supposed to keep an eye on the truck and be ready to drive away with the guns.”
I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t even blink.
I texted Gwen.
