“Look who it is.”
Payton’s eye widened, then she stormed toward the drow halfling and thrust a stubby turquoise finger into Cheyenne’s face. “I don’t wanna hear a fell-damn thing about the other day, got it?”
The halfling stared at the warning finger but stayed where she was. “If you’re not gonna pick my nose for me, get your hand out of my face.”
Yurik barked a laugh and folded his arms. Payton snarled but lowered her hand, sneering at the drow halfling with crooked teeth. “Don’t expect me to clean up after you on this one.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Payton stalked off with a grunt.
“Just ignore her, rookie.” Rhynehart smirked after the grumpy goblin. “She’s always like that.”
“That’s what I heard.”
“If she’s talking to you at all, it means she likes you.” Rhynehart rubbed his chin, then stuck two fingers in his mouth for a loud whistle, which made Cheyenne lean away from him. “All right. Let’s roll out.”
Muttered replies came from the other agents as they picked up the pace and got into their prospective FRoE vehicles. Yurik jerked his chin up at the drow halfling, then pointed at her as he turned toward the closest Humvee. “Feel free to pull out your tricks, huh? I’ve told these guys what you can do, but the stupid ones still think I’m full of shit.”
She snorted and nodded back. “They’ll figure it out.”
“Yeah.” With another laugh, the tall goblin shook his head and opened the passenger-side door. Payton was already there behind the wheel, starting up the engine just like the others around them. The parking lot behind the strip mall echoed with the growl of revving motors.
Cheyenne leaned toward Rhynehart and muttered, “You guys let her drive with that eyepatch?”
“Well, she hasn’t run anyone over yet. All right, come on, rookie.” Rhynehart jerked his head toward the Jeep and took off.
She followed him and hopped back into the passenger seat, this time buckling up her seatbelt before he had a chance to start driving. The FRoE vehicles pulled slowly one right after the other in a wide circle around the mall’s back parking lot before heading out again. Rhynehart brought the Jeep around as the last vehicle in line. Four minutes later, the caravan turned onto the highway headed northwest and really stepped on the gas.
“So, where are we actually going?”
“’Bout half an hour outside Richmond. Those scumbags dealing Q’orr’s supplies thought they were being smart. One setup inside the city…”
“The church.”
“Yeah.” Rhynehart nodded at the highway and the line of black vehicles stretching out in front of them. “And this second one a little farther away. We think this is where they’re holding most of it.”
“I thought they had more in Richmond.” Cheyenne folded her arms, blinking against the bright sunlight flashing through the window. “Like, another distribution center in South Richmond or something.”
He shot her a quick frown. “Oh, yeah? Where’d you hear that?”
On the Borderlands forum he doesn’t know about. “Just spit-balling.”
“Well, maybe they had something else on the other side of town, but we’re not too worried about any more popup shops like the church. Whoever’s still in charge of this whole screwed-up operation must’ve gotten wind of our raid on the church. These guys have eyes and ears everywhere, apparently.” Rhynehart shrugged and flashed Cheyenne a wide grin. “We have more.”
“So, they moved all that crap out where we’re going after they heard about the church.”
“Bingo. We got a tip last night. Wherever they were holding the black-magic contraband before, they packed up and shipped out. We’re trying to get on it now before they figure out we’re onto them.”
“If you got a tip last night, why wait ‘til this morning?”
“Hey, we know what we’re doing, rookie.” Rhynehart shook his head. “Gave ‘em just enough time to settle in and think they made it outta the line of fire. Even if they somehow figured out we’re comin’ for ‘em now, there’s no way they have enough time to pack everything up again from an even bigger warehouse and find some other location.”
“I keep hearing about how big it is.” The halfling ran her hand through her white hair. “Do you know how much of Q’orr’s stuff they have?”
Rhynehart’s chuckle was low and a little maniacal. “Why do you think we have five vehicles loaded down? Trust me, we’re prepared. Wait ‘til you see what we’ve got in the back of those Humvees.”
Chapter Eighteen
Less than half an hour later, they pulled up in a construction zone outside Richmond a few miles away from the closest country clubs. The FRoE vehicles rumbled down the dirt drive to the site, which was enclosed by a ring of trees without any other side streets cutting through.
Rhynehart parked at the end of the line facing the half-built business complex and reached into the back seat.
“Just a little weird that no one’s working on that place, don’t you think?”
“Nope. Work stalled ‘cause of some funding problem, I guess. And these scumbags figured it was a good place to squat. Here. I know you don’t do the gloves or a helmet, but you should put this on.”
A heavy black dampening vest thumped into her lap, and Cheyenne just stared at it.
“Do it, rookie. It saved you from getting holes burned through your chest instead of just your shoulder—”
“We’re not talking about my shoulder.”
He studied her as if trying to get a good view of her nonexistent wound beneath her t-shirt. He has to know what L’zar did.
“Right. We don’t have to talk about it. Just put it on.”
He got out of the Jeep and left the door open. With a sigh, the halfling got out after him and paused long enough to slip the vest over her head. She thumped it with a fist, the silver chains jingling around her wrist, then walked off toward the quick, urgent activity around all the other vehicles.
The FRoE
