Page 10 of Avenging Jessie (Black Swan Division Thrillers #3)

Ten

Spence

The world was about to burn, and it was up to him to stop it.

Jessie returned to the table, swiping their half-eaten breakfast aside. “We need to go. Now. Get eyes on that warehouse—”

He cut her off. “What if it’s a trap?”

She froze, like someone had yanked a wire inside her. Her brow tightened. “You think Brewer knows we’re watching?”

He pushed back from the table and stood. “I think it’s exactly the kind of game he plays. You know him better than almost anyone, including Tessa. Is this real, or is he feeding us just enough to get us moving? To make us expose ourselves?”

She didn’t answer right away. Her jaw shifted, her fingers flexed, and she glanced at the doorway. That alone told him everything.

“He’s done it before,” Spence said, contemplating how to wrap his mind around all the ways Brewer could screw them. “Sent up a flare one place—hit the real target somewhere else.”

Jessie stared toward the window, toward something Spence couldn’t see. Maybe a memory. Maybe her own guilt. Her silence said more than any confirmation.

“Tessa never saw it coming,” he added. “None of us did. He’s led us on a royal goatfuck for over a year, starting with your and Meg’s abduction by Hagar.”

Jessie dragged in a breath through her nose. Those memories still had to trigger her, even now. Her voice was lower when she spoke again. “He’s always five steps ahead. Always watching the board from above, like he’s playing chess while we’re monkeying with checkers.”

She brought her gaze to his, tension bleeding from her shoulders. Her fight hadn’t disappeared; it had only shifted. Focus was clear in her eyes. “You’re right,” she said. “We need a plan.”

Spence didn’t let her change of heart slow him down. The moment Jessie gave that rare, quiet agreement, he was moving—fingers on the keyboard, pulling up encrypted files, spinning through images Del had tagged from the Gorlitz compound.

“First things first,” he said. “We need gear. NVGs, comms, drones, thermals, surveillance cams, trackers. If we’re gonna play in his sandbox, I want to bring our own toys.”

Seemingly unable to sit still, Jessie jumped up and came around to watch him work. “And you know where to get all that?”

He gave a dry smile. “I know a guy.”

“Of course you do. You always know a guy.”

She didn’t ask questions, though, and that told him just how much her trust in the mission—and maybe him—was shifting.

“We might be on stakeout for hours or days. There’s no way to predict. I want the layout memorized. Entry points, blind spots, natural cover, possible sniper nests. We can’t just eyeball it from a hilltop.”

Jessie exhaled, clearly tamping down her instincts to move fast. “I assume you want to map exits, too.”

“Multiple,” he confirmed. “Worst case? We get spotted. We need more than one way out. A van, two bikes, fake plates, burner phones, backup IDs—”

“Jesus, Spence.”

He paused to glance up at her. “This is Brewer. If he’s laying a trap, we can’t play this loose.”

She tilted her head, studied him. “How soon do you think before he launches the drones?”

Spence didn’t have a solid answer. He clicked open a map file, dropping a few new pins along the border of Gorlitz’s industrial zone. “No idea, but if he activates them before we’re ready…” His insides churned. “We don’t get a second chance.”

Jessie moved closer to look over his shoulder. “All this stuff… this isn’t just about doing recon for more than a few hours. You’re equipping us in case we do need to go in and dismantle the drones.”

“That’s one of the contingency plans we need to prepare for.”

He reached for the manila envelope tucked into his go-bag—the one from their contact in the park. Inside was a satellite printout of the compound perimeter, hand-marked with vantage points and drainage tunnels.

“Asset said this ridge has a solid line of sight.” He pointed it out to her. “But we’ll need cover. Camouflage tarps, maybe a heat-dampening tent. Nights are cold, and I don’t want us lighting anything to stay warm.”

Jessie’s brow furrowed. “This isn’t recon. It’s war prep.”

Was it? Was he being over the top with this because he was so damned determined to keep her safe? He nodded once. “It’s how I work.”

She stared at the map, jaw tight, her energy coiling beneath the surface. Spence snapped the map shut and grabbed his phone.

Jessie raised a brow. “You calling your drone guy?”

He shook his head. “This is deeper. We’ll need gear that Langley won’t authorize. And I’m not filing a request through backchannels that Brewer’s spies might intercept. We don’t have time for it anyway.”

He scrolled through a string of burner numbers and hit one labeled only with a spade emoji.

“You trust this guy?” Jessie asked, skeptical.

“No,” Spence said, tone flat. “But I trust his prices.”

It rang once.

Twice.

Then a mechanical voice, disguising the real one, said, “It’s been a while, you mucker.”

Spence exhaled. Still alive. Still dealing.

Code name Bellringer sounded like his usual self—cold, clipped, always three breaths from a threat.

Their history went back to Bucharest, to a mission that ended with too many bodies and not enough truth.

Spence still remembered the look in the man’s eyes when he realized who’d sold him out.

He hadn’t forgotten. Spence doubted he ever would.

They’d never exchanged real names, just burner numbers and blood-soaked favors.

Trust didn’t factor in.

But reliability? That, the bastard had in spades, hence the emoji. Spence kept his tone neutral. “Need eyes in the dark. Two-person op. Gear list incoming.”

A pause as if he was checking something—his watch, a calendar, his latest reality TV show? “Half an hour. Where the bells never ring.”

The line went dead.

Jessie folded her arms. “You want to tell me what the hell that means?”

He met her eyes. “It means keep your weapon close and don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”

She snorted. “You’re such a romantic.”

But her smirk didn’t last long. Spence started typing the list to Bellringer: NVGs, mini drones, encrypted comms, EMP scramblers, tactical vests, two .45s with suppressors, spare mags, untraceable SIM cards.

He hesitated. Then added: counter-surveillance gear.

Because if this was a trap, Brewer would already be watching. He couldn’t take chances. Couldn’t get caught with his bloody knickers down.

Jessie watched him quietly and apparently didn’t miss how his fingers hesitated over the keys. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Spence didn’t look up. “Don’t know what you mean, luv.”

“About all of this? You’re always overanalyzing and overpreparing, but this seems like something more. What is it? What’s eating you?”

Should he tell her? No. He used to believe in what he built. He used to think he could out-code the world’s problems. Now? That warehouse outside Gorlitz was full of his ghosts. His biggest failure. “I’m focused on what we need to do, that’s all.”

Jessie went back to studying the map in silence. It was enough.

“Let’s go,” he said finally. “The meet’s across town, and I don’t want to miss our window.”

She grabbed her jacket. “You sure he’ll show?”

“He’s scared of me,” Spence said. “He’ll show.”

Outside, the streets were damp from an early drizzle, gray clouds hanging low and heavy. The city was waking up, but their world felt like it was closing in on them.

As they reached the curb, Jessie glanced over at him. “You really think Flynn’s gonna get axed over this?”

Spence hesitated, then gave a single, grim nod. “I think everything’s about to blow. And we need to be ready when it does.”