Shadow Ops: Danger's Passion (Kindle Worlds Novella) (A Shadow Ops Novella Book 3) by LS Silverii Page A

you got going on with your brother, this is about Voodoo. I know she was special to you so you owe her this much,” Hollywood challenged.
    “She is special to me—not was. You should’ve been honest. You’ve no idea what hell you’ve put STR into. You’re dealing with the devil himself.”
    A low rumble elevated to a roar as Justice’s biker army rounded the corner. Eleven Harley Davidson motorcycles lined the block in front of the building. Hollywood eyed Lawless. There’d be no walking away this time.
    “What the fuck’s that bitch doing here?” Justice hollered over the thump and tat, tat, tat of his Dyna Glide.
    Hollywood suddenly regretted his decision to call in both brothers. “This is about Voodoo,” he shouted.
    “Without him. I only work with warriors,” Justice taunted.
    “I’ll kick his ass right now for being on our block,” Rat dropped his kickstand and leaned his old Triumph Victory cruiser to climb off.
    “Chill out, Rat,” Justice warned.
    “You the punk ass cop?” Rat provoked as he scuffed across the curb toward Lawless. Called Rat because of his pointy nose and narrow, pinched lips, the man stood about six feet and weighed just under two hundred pounds.
    Hollywood watched denim stretch across broad shoulders and pumped-up biceps. Lawless slid his right foot back about two feet. Blood drained from his fist as he cranked knuckles into a wrecking ball. Seemed everyone knew what was about to happen, but Rat. The Savage Soul member challenged Lawless again. Bobbed his jaw as he cursed the much taller lawman.
    Lawless’ fist erupted so fast no one saw the punch, though they all expected it. Hollywood cringed as he witnessed six feet and two hundred pounds lift into the air then crash onto the grime-coated sidewalk. Rat lay crumpled, out cold.
    “I got work to do,” Lawless said as he burst past Hollywood toward the stairs. “You said second floor, right?” he asked.
    “I never said any floor.”
    “I saw the rifle scope reflect through the window. Y’all better be better than that.” Lawless disappeared into the dank hall and stomped upstairs to meet the rest of STR’s team.
    “Justice, y’all coming in?” Hollywood was actually glad to see the club’s president, but wasn’t sure who he’d brought with him since the last crew of the Savage nation got themselves contaminated in Chicago. The giant nodded and then signaled for everyone to unload.
    Hollywood’s lungs burned as the exhaust from the ten oil-spouting road hogs spewed toward him while rear tires rolled against the cement curb. He watched as a biker without the club’s main patch on his colors walked Rat’s bike out of the street and in line with the others. His bottom rocker read Pledge—a rookie in the OMC, he would be doing all their dirty work.
    “Drag his ass upstairs,” Justice ordered the pledge as he stepped over Rat to grab Hollywood by the hand and triceps. “You did good in Chicago—I owe you and Rose this one. But you should’ve been honest about everything. Everything.”
    “I needed you both more than whatever beef you two have going. This is about Voodoo, not you two or cops and bikers—just Voodoo.” Hollywood’s stance stiffened as each biker approached. He knew they were all combat vets, but he wasn’t sure what their reactions to him would be.
    “I won’t bother introducing you. We won’t be around that long. Can’t believe Easter is tomorrow—I never even bought my little girl a basket,” Justice said as he pointed the others toward the staircase.
    Hollywood half-smiled at the words. He’d never considered that Justice, or any of them might have a family. His gut churned slowly as he realized his hopes of a family, possibly with Voodoo, were coming to an end unless they rescued her. He stepped back as the pledge tugged Rat through the threshold by his leather vest.
    “Rip those colors Pledge, and Rat will make a new vest from your skin,” Justice bellowed through the narrow