Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
And this was exactly what had happened because of the deliberate space left between the 9 and 11. There’d been outrage amongst the onlookers, mostly as the man was half middle eastern.
Worse, he was a guy I knew well, who had a wife and four kids. He was someone who I had a lot of respect for, and who was incredibly loyal to the Bratva.
After I’d sorted that out, I’d made time to see Nell and the boys, and had finally gotten to speak with Lena properly.
Of course I knew who she was as soon as I saw her. Few people in the US wouldn’t know the Twisted Saints brand's most famous face, especially as she was the main Hellion for them. My men were blown away by her, but I only wanted the woman who’d given me my sons.
It’d been nice to see them home and out of the hospital, almost like life was starting with a fresh slate. There were enough worries outside of that little bubble, but being inside it, even for an hour, made me feel like I could breathe again.
For that hour, I’d gotten to focus on my sons and Nell, and I’d been able to do more things that solidified my new role as a dad.
I didn’t realize the difference any of that would make until that moment.
I’d only had an hour of that feeling before I’d gotten a call back from Raig, giving me an update that might tip the balance of this war in our favor. We had his support regardless, but he’d wanted extra power, and had reached out to the Council.
The IRA was made up of different groups, who all deferred to the IRA Army Council. There were generals for various departments that they could go to, and an IRA Executive.
Still, Raig’s family was one of the biggest and strongest in the Republic of Ireland, so he was able to bypass them and get closer to the top.
After he’d explained what was going on to them—no doubt adding in the threat to the businesses the IRA had in the USA—they’d agreed to lend us soldiers and firepower if needed.
I’d taken the call on the doorstep of Nell’s house so that she didn’t pick up anything that would worry her, and had been about to go back inside, when our Greek friend, Nick, had called me back, too.
He’d teamed up with Vadim after I’d spoken to him earlier, his skills different but no less useful, to find out as much as possible about who we were dealing with.
I wish I hadn’t fucking known. To conquer an invisible enemy, knowledge was vital. Sometimes, though, ignorance was bliss.
Los Segadores had been busy making new alliances with armies, cartels, and gangs under any stone they could find. It was glaringly obvious we were dealing with a new breed of terrorist organization, one made up of all the people who alone made headlines in the news. But together, they made nightmares real.
The Brazilian gang known as the Primeiro Comando da Capital, the PCC, had been spreading through South America for years. They’d also recruited ex-guerrillas from different countries, ex-special forces members, and were a crucial figure in distributing drugs and guns from the South to the North.
Two years previously, they’d received five hundred members of the San Salvadoran gang known as MS-13, the Mara Salvatrucha, in exchange for assistance in a territorial battle and the escape of two thousand of their members from different prisons around the country.
The MS-13 had a lot of members throughout the USA, so monitoring their movements would be difficult, meaning plans could be made and carried out by them more easily, than if members were to travel up from the South across the Mexican border.
It turns out, though, that one of the other gangs they’d apparently taken control of was none other than Los Segadores.
For all of their strengths, we should have known they had help when the bomb went off at the Road Kings. The PCC was well known for doing things like that, whereas Los Segadores were more into guns to fight their wars.
We weren’t just dealing with a ghost, we were dealing with a fucking army, who could make Armageddon a reality if we didn’t fix it soon.
I’d relayed this back to the appropriate people, Raig included, and it’d changed the war entirely. It was no longer just about the Fedorov family, this was about all of us keeping our territories.
Knowing all of this, it’d pissed me off, and I’d had to leave Nell and the boys early to call a meeting with Dad and Dmitri.
We’d used secure lines to thirty-three other groups, all of them trusted allies now, and the War Council had been formed. It wasn’t something we did lightly, but this was so much worse than we’d thought.