Page 61 of Green Ravens (Ravens #2)

Chief Aiken Oakley

Valor

Clad in hunter green with hoods lowered, he and Zorion were led to the bottom level after taking as much time as they needed in their decompression room.

The first thing Valor noticed was Zelmir with his wife and kid sitting on his lap. He said something that made his son giggle and throw his arms around his neck.

The sight made warmth and pride blossom in his chest.

They’d done good. The mission was a success, regardless that they’d lost the White Ravens.

Toward the back of the lower level, Jo stood at a round tactical table between Corvo and Spector.

Corvo was all black edges and storm-dark intensity, a man who matched the energy of the assassins he handled. He stood tall and still, his long dark hair tied back in a tight ponytail, with olive-toned skin that caught the light.

He was every bit as threatening as he was refined.

Behind him stood his Black Ravens, cloaked and unmoving.

Grace and Mirage stood behind Spector.

The Browns’ handler had an air of humbleness to him. He wasn’t as imposing as Corvo, standing at around six feet with a lithe, muscular frame and a clean-shaven face with dark brows that were perpetually raised and made him look as if he were always surprised.

He and Zorion ascended the few stairs of the platform and stood behind Jo.

Beyond multiple glass walls, Jo’s operation bloomed like a phoenix.

Dr. Santana and his team worked diligently on stocking medical supplies and equipment. Ones for treating injuries, not for creating hybrids or mindless killer drones.

Jo raised her hand and the room fell silent.

Her gaze swept over every assassin, handler, and specialist who’d followed her into this new chapter.

“Valor. Zorion. You didn’t just take down the old Ravens facility. You ended something that never should’ve existed. You brought people home and released captives. You destroyed the rot within the organization. Now it’s time to build something better.”

She let that settle.

“Ex, Meridian, Grace, and Mirage, the four of you were never meant to be monsters. You were designed to protect. To strike the places the world couldn’t reach. The mission and purpose of the Ravens got twisted and then contaminated. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t right at its core.”

She lifted her chin.

“I was raised among righteousness, glory, and honor. I am the Panther of the Order of Aga Khan. Trained from childhood to navigate power in silence. I’ve seen what control without conscience becomes. I won’t make that mistake. Not here. Not with you.”

She looked at every Raven in the room.

“There will be no more secrets. No wrongs and senseless deaths disguised as orders. No more withheld truth from handlers. From now on, all staff and departments will have full transparency of missions. Ravens, you will know the target. You’ll know why they’re targeted. And you’ll decide where you stand.”

She paused.

“And starting now, you are no longer required to live here. This facility is secure, but you deserve more. As long as your homes are protected and check-ins are met, you’re free to live your lives…together. No more hiding the love you have for your cherished.”

A ripple of energy moved through the warehouse. Shoulders eased. Expressions shifted.

Valor assumed it was the first real breath of liberty the Blacks and the Browns had felt in years.

“And as for funding, there will be no more outside investors, no more strings, no more corporate donors with blood-soaked hands and secret agendas. The Order is funding this initiative entirely. That means we’re beholden to no one flag. Our allegiance is to discipline and honor.”

Corvo’s jaw flexed and Spector gave a single, approving nod.

“And if you’re wondering how the order can fund all of this,” she swept her hand over the room. “Well, thanks to all of your joint efforts, Lee Woyashi was found guilty by the tribunal and turned over to federal authorities… after the Order seized his assets of one hundred and seventy million dollars.”

Jo smirked along with a few others.

“Our first mission is already active. The White Ravens. Only god knows what they’ve been through, so their hostility seems more than warranted.”

Virginia called out from across the room, “I’ve triangulated the flight path they took. We’ll have a perimeter grid of where and when they land within the hour.”

Jo looked at the Blacks and the Browns.

“This isn’t a hunt. Your approach will be non- hostile. No intimidation tactics, no excessive force. They’re not our enemies… They’re survivors, just like the six of you.”

Jo motioned for him and Zorion to step forward.

“What can you tell us?” she asked.

Valor steepled his hands in front of him as he recalled the Whites’ combat tactics.

“They moved in sync. Their escape was too clean for improvisation. It was as if they’d been planning it for a while.”

Mirage leaned into Grace’s side, but Valor never saw the man’s lips move. A second later, Mirage asked.

“Can you tell us anything of their capabilities, Valor?”

He shook his head. “Only that they were young, fast, strong. They fought as if specifically trained in hand-to-hand combat. They fought to evade, not kill.”

“And you couldn’t best them?” Ex asked, his voice laced with a hint of disbelief.

“Not without hurting one of them,” Zorion answered.

Jo nodded. “That’s right. And they had strict orders to use defensive measures only.”

“And no one here has any information on that vaulted wing behind the director’s office?” Spector asked, reclining in his chair with his boots propped up on the table.

“Everyone here was kept in the dark as you were, Spector,” Jo said. “However, I’m nothing if not through. All personnel in this building were recruited by me. They’ve been interviewed, interrogated, and given polygraphs. The only ones who knew anything about the White Sector 30 either fled during the raid or were killed in it. Glitch has scoured the database and found no record of it.”

“The Whites have no reason to trust us,” Corvo said what they were all probably thinking. “So why in the hell do you think they’d want to join us?”

“We have to give them a reason to stop running. No one wants to be looking over their shoulders for the rest of their lives.”

Jo looked over the vast warehouse.

“But we’re not ready to move yet. Not as we should be. Departments are still setting up. Weapons are still inbound. Equipment, armor, field tech, none of it is operational. So, I’m giving this recommendation to the six of you.” Jo stared at them. “Take a short hiatus. Rest, live, go axe throwing, whatever the hell it is you do for fun.”

Valor liked the sound of that. He wondered if Jo would let them go back to that cabin she owned.

“In the meantime, I’ll take the lead with Virginia, Marcus, Glitch, and the others. We’ll try to track the Whites.”

Her voice softened. “I don’t want any of you to live with war every day.”

She closed a leather file case and took a deep breath.

“That’s all I have for now. If any of you have questions, concerns, needs…please speak freely.”

Grace leaned into Mirage again—lips close to his ear but not moving.

Valor frowned. What the fuckin’ fuck? He could not figure Grace out.

Mirage seemed to speak for both of them.

“We’re in, Jo. We signed up for the Ravens to help and save lives. And if that’s what you’re offering us…then you have our loyalty.”

Ex pulled back his hood, revealing handsome, sharp features and haunting gray eyes.

“If this is real, Jo. I’m in.”

Everyone nodded.

Meridian stepped forward and time slowed as the atmosphere shifted to a somber mood.

He pulled back the midnight hood of his calf-length cashmere trench.

Mouths dropped open.

His onyx eyes burned beneath long black lashes, almost hypnotic in their depth. Oil black hair was slicked back and curled at the ends. He had smooth, tawny skin, kissed by shadows, and a firm jaw edged with stubble.

He parted his full lips as if he was on the verge of saying something dangerous but never spoke.

He moved toward Jo, walking as if time owed him something.

As if he lived for dramatic effect, Meridian casually pulled an obsidian cigarette case from his inside jacket pocket. He put a black cigarette with a gold filter between his lips and lit it with a monogrammed Zippo.

Valor almost rolled his eyes. He’d heard of Meridan’s over-the-top, extravagant taste. From his hair products to his jet-black Armani suit to his Gucci shoes.

For fuck’s sake.

The first drag was long and intimate, as if being savored.

The scent of sweet cloves wove through the air like incense from Ares’s temple.

“Any time now, lover,” Ex interrupted the theatrical scene.

“I’ve killed more people than I’ve spoken to,” he said, voice gravelly and low. “Some for duty. Some for mere pleasure. Some because I wanted to see what happened when I stopped pretending I had a soul.”

Another drag, another drawn-out exhale.

“You say we have voices now. That we’re permitted lives and homes. That we’ll serve something worthy of glory and honor.” Meridian’s smile wasn’t of appreciation…but intimidation. “I’ll guard your vision, Jo.”

He inched closer, his presence like a storm cloud closing in.

Nobody moved.

“But if this turns into another Ravens…” His smile deepened into something scarier. “I’ll tear this place apart from the inside out…starting with you. And as you beg for death like John Ross did…I’ll enjoy every fuckin’ second of it.”

Holy shit.

He walked back to Ex’s side—the scent of sweet spices following him—and the two left, a plume of smoke trailing Meridian like the ghost of death was his best friend.

Jo didn’t seem fazed.

Corvo stood. “He’s all talk and threats. Trust me, guys. His bark is far worse than his bite.”

“I don’t think our departed director would agree.” Spector chuckled.

Jo stared at him and Zorion.

“Valor, the two of you will lead the team when it’s time to go after the Whites. You saw them in action. You understand them best.”

Valor nodded. “We’ll bring them back.”

Zorion added, “If they let us.”

Valor’s gaze drifted toward the back of the facility.

Meridian stood near the door. Smoke hovering around his lips and cloaking the part of his face still visible beneath his hood.

No cohesive thoughts came to Valor’s mind when he stared at him…only words.

Vicious. Poisoned. Lethal. Beautiful. Righteous.

Valor was damn near tempted to ask him for one of those fucking cigarettes.