Page 66 of Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad World

“Who’s monitoring the security feed tonight?” Noah asked as they made their way down the stairs to the front door.

“Violet. She’s doubling up with watching Annabelle.” Rodrigo grabbed a duffel from the bottom step on his way past. “Harris is taking the first shift on building patrol. We waited until he hit the roof before we got you. We’ve got a couple of minutes before he heads this way. By then, we’ll be long gone.”

Noah reset the alarm and locked the front door behind them. Together, they jogged across the road and down the alley to the parallel street, where they’d left the SUV they’d need for the night’s mission. Abasi tossed the keys to Noah, who got into the driver’s seat. Abasi called shotgun, and Rodrigo sat in the back.

“I have everything we need,” Rodrigo said as Noah started the car and headed toward South Houston. “We’re going old school on this. No tech backup. Elle’s on a job, and it would have raised too many questions if she’d siphoned off time to act as our online eyes and ears.”

Even at three in the morning, there were still cars on the road. Granted, nowhere near as many as during the day, but enough to notice if the SUV did something out of the ordinary, so Noah made sure to obey every sign and never exceed the speed limit.

“First up,” Abasi said as they drove into the night, “Elle stumbled on a drug house. She hacked some texts saying it was full, and the residents needed to check out soon.”

“In other words”—Noah stopped for a red light—”they have too much product and need to ship some of it out.”

“Si,”Rodrigo said as he unzipped the duffel and started taking out weapons.

“Do we know what they’re dealing?” Noah asked. “I don’t want to walk into a meth lab.”

“It’s high-grade coke.” Rodrigo checked a weapon before handing it to Abasi. “Well, it was. Who knows what it isnow, they could have cut it with anything. They’ve got a pipeline straight from Colombia and an exclusive deal with the Alvarez cartel, one of the smaller but smarter drug producers in the country. The Demons and the Alvarez cartel are known by reputation as being deadly and unstoppable. It’s a very profitable partnership for both parties.”

“Hopefully, not so much after tonight.” Noah kept his eyes on the road. “If we can sow the seed of doubt about the Demons being trustworthy, we might be able to disrupt their supply chain. That should give Eddie something else to worry about.”

“It’s not enough, though.” Abasi drummed his fingers against the passenger door. “One drug house is small potatoes for this gang.”

“But that’s not the only thing we’re hitting tonight, is it?” Rodrigo said.

“Nope,” Abasi said. “There’s a long-haul vehicle we need to intercept before dawn.”

“Just remember, no killing,” Noah said firmly. “We’re going to gift wrap what we can for the local cops, disrupt the Demons as much as possible, and then disappear. Got it?”

“Which reminds me.” Rodrigo rummaged in his bag of magic tricks and pulled out two bundles of zip ties. “Don’t worry about circulation when you cuff these guys,” he said cheerily.

“We need to keep this operation tight and fast.” Noah drove over one of the wide, multilane motorways that wound around Houston. He glanced at the other two men. Both were skilled and deadly and, like him, were dressed for the night in black. But there were only three of them against an army of Demons. “Maybe we should have included the rest of the team in this,” he said worriedly.

“We’ve been over this. The boss would have grounded us, and the triplets would have got us killed.” Abasi eyed Noah, his gaze cold and assessing. “Right now, I’m more worried aboutyou than anything we’ll face. You sure you’re up for this? It isn’t some by-the-book police raid with plenty of department backup. Things will get dirty.”

“I can handle myself,” Noah said evenly.

“I’d settle for you not getting me shot.” Abasi stared out the window, watching the lights of Houston’s skyline flicker as they passed.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Ithought you said this gang was smart,” Abasi said as they sat in the SUV, watching one of the houses the Demons used for their drug operation. “If you’d shown me a satellite image of this neighborhood, I’d have pointed at this place and said, ‘That’s it; there’s the gang house.’ Amateurs.” He shook his head in disgust.

He had a point. With its boarded-up windows, smashed glass, and overgrown yard—the parts that weren’t filled with abandoned vehicles—the old wooden house looked derelict. The only thing in good repair was the wire fence, which had several signs attached saying:Private property, trespassers will be shot.

To Noah, the area didn’t feel inner city, which meant he’d spent far too long in the UK. The road was wide and straight, stretching into the distance. It was also in desperate need of repair. Houses were spread far apart, and there wasn’t any sidewalk, only unkempt grass verge. All the buildings they’d passed had been small, wooden, and in disrepair, many of them shielded from view of the road by trees and overgrown bushes. This wasn’t a neighborhood where folks got together for street barbeques. No, these people were big on minding their ownbusiness, and Noah doubted any of them had the Houston PD on speed dial.

Which, considering their situation, was a plus for the three of them.

“I’ve got the front,” Abasi said as he climbed out of the car.

“I’ll take the back.” Rodrigo followed him just as silently.

“Guess that leaves me as backup.” Noah joined them in the darkness. “Rodrigo, I’ll follow you. Abasi can take care of himself.”

“And I can’t?” Rodrigo adjusted the strap of his black backpack.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a badass too.” Noah rolled his eyes. “Remember, this is a bag-and-tag operation. No fatalities.”