The Shield One-Shots Book 3

FBI's Most Wanted/Ambrollins

 The sky had been a threatening shade of gray all day and by late evening, the storm that had been brewing finally unleashed its fury. Rain came down in thick sheets, making it almost impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. Thunder roared deafeningly across the sky, punctuated by bright streaks of lightning causing the world to be briefly illuminated before settling back into darkness. Through the rain-streaked windows of the lone dark-coloured SUV on the deserted road, headlights occasionally bounced off signs or markers indicating the vehicle's progress. The vehicle was travelling down the road that led, according to every map and city document, to an empty lot bordered on all sides by a large dense forest.

 The road eventually ended in a wide, empty lot - though it wasn't quite as empty as it appeared. A large, dilapidated warehouse stood in the center of the lot, surrounded by a rusty barbed wire fence. Unseen motion detectors and secret alarms sparked to life each time someone stepped too close, while hidden security cameras watched from the shadows. Despite its weathered exterior, however, the warehouse was busy with activity, an ever-moving mass of boxes and workers within.

 Having made the trip to the warehouse many times over the years in every type of weather, the driver of the SUV expertly and safely drove through the winding, narrow roads to arrive at the warehouse. He brought the vehicle to a stop in front of a tall metal door and pointed the remote control towards it. With a deep rumble, the massive door creaked open and the SUV slowly pulled inside. The driver came to a stop and killed the engine, letting silence fill the large garage. His door squeaked open as he stepped out, immediately taking notice of his surroundings. He was a tall, powerful-looking, muscular Samoan man with long black hair that fell just below his broad shoulders, grey eyes, and a well-styled goatee. His sleeves were rolled up to expose an intricate tribal tattoo that wrapped around his arm, and one side of his chest and back. He was dressed in a form-fitting navy blue shirt tucked into form-fitting black dress pants, and black dress shoes, with a gun holstered in his waistband. He made his presence known though without saying a word.

 He scanned the area, his eyes taking in every detail of the scene, he then made his way to the back door of the SUV and opened it. Out stepped a man with short, slightly curly dirty blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He was slightly shorter than him but no less intimidating, with bulging muscled arms visible through the white form-fitting t-shirt he wore. His dark jeans hugged his lean body, and his black leather jacket and motorcycle boots completed the look,  a gun holstered in his waistband too.

 The blonde man flashed a broad smile at the Samoan and patted him on the back in a friendly gesture. Before either of them could utter a word, they were joined by a tall, lean man with buzzed brown hair, blue eyes, and tattoo sleeves adorned across both arms that crept up to the back of his neck and shoulders. He was dressed in a well-fitted white dress shirt which had been rolled up to his elbows, coupled with black form-fitting dress pants and black dress shoes.

 "You made it, boss." The brunette man said smiling.

 "Of course, I did, with the big man driving I always get where I need to be." The blonde man replied smiling, as the Samoan shut the back door. "This better be important to drag us out here in this weather, dammit."

 "It is, sir, the shipment of guns finally arrived and guess who Kane and Show found this morning."

 "About damn time, get Jimmy and Jey to help you check the gun shipment, I want every damn gun accounted for."

 "Yes, sir, Mr. Ambrose."

 "Randy, when you're done that make sure to double check that the list of buyers have their money, all of it, dammit, if it's not transferred into my account then they get nothing."