“Aye, just as you ordered,” one answers.
Perfect. “We’re returning everything to the same warehouse we took them from.”
“Boss, you should probably know that we were given orders by Abram. He says nothing should be moved without his permission.”
I’m immediately enraged. My uncle is no longer a leader. He has no right to give orders to my men. This is his way of taking advantage of his prior role. Further, he has no regard for my wife’s safety. He’d prefer seeing her dead than return the explosives to The Order. That means he’d choose death for my children.
Perhaps Bleu isn’t so far off target with her suspicion.
* * *
Sterling drives my dad and me to The Order’s warehouse while the truck of explosives follows close behind. My father is quiet so I have a moment to reflect on the night’s events.
“I didn’t protect my wife from The Order. I told her I would always keep her safe because it was my job. She put her trust in me and I let her down.”
“There’s no way you could have anticipated The Order coming for her.”
I knew Bleu was going to be targeted by a lot of people simply for being my wife. My love for her places a large mark on her back. I knew this. I should’ve had more protection in place for her. I’m completely disgusted by my lack of caution. “My actions—or absence of them—are inexcusable. She may not forgive me for allowing this to happen.”
“You didn’t allow anything to happen, Sinclair.”
I leave her alone so often. I should’ve known this would happen. “I’m a stupid husband and leader for not having guards at the house ensuring her safety when I was away.”
“You’re newlyweds. You wanted a normal life with your new wife. Constant security in your home would have negated that possibility. No one faults you for wanting some normalcy with Bleu.”
I already suspect she’s been cut deeply, enough to produce the amount of blood it would take to write both of the messages left for me. I don’t want to but my mind begins imagining the worst. “I don’t know what I’ll do if she’s been harmed.”
“Your wife is a trained agent. She’s smart and knows how to survive. There’s no doubt in my mind that Bleu knows how to deal with her captors, possibly in a deadly manner.”
“My lass is a warrior but she has the safety of the babies to consider. She can’t fight the same way she would if she weren’t pregnant.”
I fear the reaction of The Order if she fights back. They don’t hold women in the same regard as The Fellowship. They place little to no value on them. Women, in their eyes, are expendable.
My mum had it right when she called them sadistic animals.
“Despite their foolish behavior, they’re not completely ignorant. They want their explosives back. They know harming a Breckenridge could negate the exchange. I don’t think they’ll take that risk.”
“I’ll annihilate the entire lot if they’ve harmed her.”
“Don’t anticipate the worst. Think only of bringing Bleu home safely. Negative theories will distract you. You need a clear head so no mistakes are made.”
My father is right. I can’t afford to be sidetracked by what-ifs.
“Boss,” Sterling says. He lifts his chin, gesturing to the rearview mirror. “The truck is pulling off the road.”
What the hell?
I twist in my seat to get a look at what’s going on and see the flashing blue lights of two police cars. One behind the truck. The other following behind us.
“No. No. No! Not now. Anytime but right now.”
“What do you want me to do?” Sterling asks.
We can run but the truck can’t, not while carrying unstable explosives.
I look to Dad but I can already predict what he’ll say. “We don’t have a choice. We have to pull over to see what they want.”
“And hope to hell they don’t search the back of that truck.”
Sterling pulls to a stop on the side of the road. I look at the time and see we have ten minutes until the deadline. “We don’t have time for this.”
“Patience, Sinclair.”
I consider the reasons the authorities would have for blue lighting us. We weren’t breaking any traffic laws so I’m inclined to think this is a set-up. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“That makes two of us.”
My heart sinks when Lloyd Buchanan, deputy chief constable of the Organized Crime Unit, comes to the driver’s window. This is no routine traffic stop. Judging by the amused look on his face, he knows he has something on us. “Good evening, Thane. Sinclair.”
“Good evening, Officer Buchanan,” my father says.
He steps away from the car with his hands of his hips, rocking on his heels. Grinning. “I hear congratulations are in order.”
He can’t possibly know about Bleu’s pregnancy. “You’re referring to my marriage?”
“Aye. I must admit I was taken aback to hear that you’d married outside The Fellowship.”
“You’ve seen how bonny my wife is. It should come as no surprise.”
“Aye, she’s a lovely lass but I’m wondering why you’d go against your brotherhood. You’re a tight bunch. I’m doubtful they welcomed your American bride with open arms.”
I don’t have time for this. “You didn’t pull our car over to discuss my marriage.”
“Aye. You’re right, but before we get to that, I’m curious. Why are you escorting a transport truck through Order territory this time of night?”
He has nothing on us. He’s curious. Good. “I was under the impression that Edinburgh was a free town. I suppose I failed to get the memo about sections of it belonging to anyone in particular. How does one do that—go about obtaining parts of a city?”
“Enough with the bullshit,” Buchanan says.
“Finally. Something we agree upon.”
“Then I’ll get on with it.”
Buchanan takes his gun from his holster and points it in my direction. “Sinclair Breckenridge. Step out of the car slowly with your hands on your head.”
A half dozen officers, firearms pointed at me, surround the car.
“What is this about?” my father asks.
“I’m arresting your son for the murder of Malcolm Irvine.”
No. This can’t be happening now. Anytime but now.
I can’t be taken in. Bleu’s life is dependent upon me making this delivery.