"What's going on?" Shantel asked superfluously. She could clearly see the three cars blocking the narrow pass, completely sealing off any hope of a quick escape.
"I think we have visitors," Blake the driver said calmly.
From the first vehicle, a burly man with a jagged scar across his cheek stepped out, followed by nearly a dozen others, all with the unmistakable bearing of hired thugs.
They were all dressed in black jackets and boots that were probably heavy enough to crack bones.
Zephyr's eyes flicked to Shantel beside him who was tucking her curls beneath a plain black cap.
Without the mask and wig, she was nearly unrecognizable when she was done. Perfect. "Boss, you should stay in the car," he whispered under his breath.
Shantel nodded in understanding, but that didn't mean she wasn't on alert.
"What's the play?" the driver asked, still in that calm voice as if he was discussing a golf match over a cup of coffee.
"We'll attack them straight on. No time for delay."
