“And if we ignore it,”Nova said,“they’ll push harder next time. With real victims on the line.”
The silence that followed was thick.
Then Diamond nodded, spine straightening.
“Tonight’s run goes forward. We don’t rattle. We don’t stall. But from here on out, we assume someone’s watching.”
Nova’s eyes softened just a fraction.“I already sent a heads-up to Whisper and Ghost. They’ll tail you from a distance. Eyes only.”
Diamond gave her a curt nod.“Good. Let’s see who’s really watching.”
They led Carla and her two young daughters into the Freightliner’s extended cab. Diamond showed them how everything worked—the hidden compartments, the air vents, the emergency plan. She crouched low to explain gently that, when they were a few miles from the border, they’d need to hide away until it was safe to come back out.
Carla’s hands shook as she settled her daughters in, whispering soft reassurances. Diamond gave them space, stepping out with Sayer to do one last walk around the truck.
Sayer crouched low to check the undercarriage, his fingers brushing the frame, eyes scanning every detail.“Looks good,”he muttered, standing and brushing dust from his hands.“Nothing out of place.”
Diamond turned back to the group. She thanked the Harlots who’d helped set up the route, pulling each into a quick, tight embrace. When she reached Nova, she hugged her longer.
Then she handed over a thin envelope.
It was unmarked.
Nova looked down at it, then up at Diamond.“Just in case?”
Diamond nodded.“You know me. I don’t like open endings.”
Without another word, they climbed back into the cab. The engine roared to life, shaking dust loose from the pavement. The night air felt heavier now, like it knew what was at stake.
Fifi and the others worked swiftly in the background, reinforcing security, tightening the lines. No one said it out loud, but they all knew this run was different.
As they merged onto the open road, the dash lights flickered to life, casting a pale glow across the cab.
Sayer gripped the wheel.“Diamond,”he said quietly,“we’re not just fighting the clock. There are people out there whowantthis to fail.”
Diamond didn’t look at him. Her eyes stayed fixed ahead, scanning headlights and shadows.“Then we outsmart them. Every damn turn.”
The truck surged forward, a mobile lifeline carrying hope, fear, and the fragile promise of a new start.
It rumbled along the endless stretch of highway like a steel leviathan, tires chewing up asphalt in steady rhythm. A thin layer of dust clung to its red paint, souvenirs from the roads it had already conquered. The chrome grille caught the glow of passing lights, gleaming like a war medal.
At the border crossing, it idled in line.
Heat rose in shimmering waves from the hood as customs officers moved between lanes—scanning, questioning, verifying. The trailer, sealed tight, carried its manifest: goods stamped with international labels, paperwork filed to perfection.
Hands exchanged documents. Eyes flicked over licenses. And then, after a long pause and a sharp nod, it was waved through.
On the other side, the road stretched wide and waiting.
The truck surged forward once more. Headlights carved through the dark, and the weight of what it carried—lives hidden behind steel—pressed heavy against the axles.
But it moved with purpose. A giant with a singular mission.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Diamond’s handsrested steadily on the wheel of the Freightliner. The truck hummed down the highway. Its nose pointed south. The evening sun breaking through a low curtain of clouds ahead.
The cab was quiet aside from the steady drone of the engine and the occasional creak from the sleeper apartment behind them. Sayer sat in the passenger seat, silent, alert, one boot braced on the dash, the other flat to the floor.
