Page 107 of Snow

Snow dragged a hand over the back of his neck. “What’s happening on your end?”

“Derek’s coordinating with the agencies now. Federal warrants are being served at Gulf Tide this morning, and we’re already heading back toward you. Coast Guard is en route as well. Our ETA is forty-five minutes to an hour. They tried to get the chopper up, but it was grounded because of the wind.”

“So, what does Derek want me to do?”

“Once those warrants start getting served, we have no idea how long it’ll take before somebody warns Brett. You need to find that UUV before he realizes the walls are closing in.”

Snow grabbed the key card that Nova made for him from the desk.

“Okay. And if I find it?”

“You secure it and make damn sure Brett doesn’t get anywhere near it. If that thing is operational, he could try and use it.”

“Alright. Let me get dressed, and then I’ll start hunting. If anything changes, let me know.”

“Will do. And Snow, be safe.”

“Always.”

As soon as Snow disconnected the call, the bathroom door opened.

Snow looked up just as Nova stepped out, her damp hair falling around her shoulders. Her gaze dropped to the key card in his hand before returning to his face.

“I’m guessing our nice morning is officially over.”

Snow let out a slow breath.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” He looked down at the card. “I’m afraid it is. Get dressed quickly, and I’ll explain.”

As Nova hurried to get dressed, Snow slipped the key card into his pocket and felt the weight of the situation settle over him. He needed to get onto Platform Three and find that device before Brett realized his operation was falling apart, but there was one thing Snow knew with absolute certainty that Nova wasn’t leaving his sight. He knew she could take care of herself, and God knew she’d proven that more than once, but this had just gone from dangerous to a whole new level of fucked up. Whatever happened next, they were handling it together. He would find the damn UUV, keep it out of Brett’s hands, and make sure Nova got off this rig safely. Everything else could sort itself out later.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Brett ended the call and slowly lowered the phone from his ear, staring at it for several seconds before he shot out of his chair.

“Fuck!”

He paced behind his desk, dragging one hand over his face while his mind raced through everything his colleague at corporate had just told him.

Federal agents had walked into Gulf Tide’s headquarters roughly thirty minutes ago, armed with search warrants and immediately started locking things down.

Nobody seemed to know exactly what they were looking for yet, which meant rumors were already spreading through the building faster than actual facts.

One of those rumors had nearly made Brett drop the fucking phone.

Apparently, whatever the Feds were investigating was said to be connected to one of Gulf Tide’s offshore rigs. His colleague had even heard someone mention the possibility that federal agents were already onboard.

Brett had laughed when the guy told him that. Actually, fucking laughed and asked what the hell federal agents would want with an offshore platform. He had even made some stupid joke about being glad he was stuck in the middle of the Gulf while somebody at corporate apparently screwed the pooch badly enough to bring the federal government down on them.

He had sounded good too. At least, he thought he had.

Now that the call was over and there was no one listening, Brett stopped pretending.

“What the fuck happened?”

He stopped pacing and stared toward the rain-speckled window. Maybe this had nothing to do with him. Maybe Gulf Tide had gotten itself wrapped up in some regulatory bullshit completely unrelated to anything Brett and Matisse had been doing.

Yeah, right. And maybe the fucking Easter Bunny was leading the raid.