Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 122896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 614(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 614(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
“I can’t imagine living every day being paranoid about getting fucked over by someone in your own organization. It has to bug the shit out of them.” Nox shook his head. “What a miserable fucking life.”
Finn wasn’t so sure Nox’s life wasn’t miserable, either. The loss of his wife had devastated him and he still wasn’t back to his normal self. He might never be. Selling their marital home and turning the second floor of The Plant into his new residence had helped, but only somewhat. Even though he’d moved in, he still wasn’t done with the construction since he was basically doing it all on his own.
He had turned down most offers of help from the rest of the Blue Avengers. They figured if he needed assistance, he knew enough to ask. But between that and the task force, he’d been keeping busy in an attempt to prevent spiraling to the bottom of a dark pit.
Moving into The Plant was the best thing for Finn’s fellow Blue Avenger, especially since someone from the task force was always on the third floor if he needed company.
“Fuck ‘em. I hope they’re all fucking miserable and develop ulcers from being paranoid. I hope they have insomnia and massive hemorrhoids. Meth destroys a lot of fucking families. So, fuck all of those greedy motherfuckers.”
Damn. But what Don Mullins said was true. Being a narcotic detective with the Pittsburgh PD, he’d seen the heartbreak and devastation drug addiction could cause. Something Decker had experienced personally.
Finn floated a possibility out there… “If we put someone undercover with the Uniontown chapter and so do the Russos…”
“Wouldn’t that be fucked up.” It wasn’t a question but a statement by Decker.
He was right. It would be fucked up. Finn added, “That might get sticky as fuck.”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Crew said. “The Russos have no clue we know they’re involved. Demons don’t know that we know about them, either. We just need to make sure it stays that way.”
“Or this investigation is screwed,” Decker concluded.
“Anyone undercover with the Demons could get screwed if they’re discovered,” Rez warned.
Not just screwed but actually end up dead.
Crew nodded. “Let me chew on it for a bit. Group one has two TFOs already installed with the mother chapter in West Virginia, and I think they’re trying to get at least one more inside. Group three is working on getting one of their TFOs in the new Ohio chapter. We should really do the same. Having someone on the inside would be valuable.”
“But nobody sitting at this table or on the other side of that phone line is in their twenties,” Rodgers, another DEA agent, said. “We’re all seasoned law enforcement. Some of us more than others.” He flicked his eyes toward Crew’s salt-and-pepper hair that was heavy on the salt. “We’ve talked about this option at the beginning, it would be easier to send in someone young to be a prospect.”
“Even though I doubt there’s an age limit, I would guess that someone over, say thirty-five, might draw more suspicion and be watched more closely. The two I saw at the club were in their early twenties. Fletch, have you seen any older prospects?” Finn asked the state trooper.
“No, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. We really haven’t dealt with a lot of their prospects. Wolf probably doesn’t trust them enough with distributing the meth, at least in the amounts that we’re buying, until they’ve proven their worth. On the flipside, I wouldn’t doubt he’s using them for dealing on the street. This way if they get busted, no big loss.”
Crew spoke next. “Since they’re expanding territory at a fast clip, my assumption is they need to expand their membership just as quickly. They might not be so damn picky when it comes to increasing their numbers. They can easily weed out prospects before getting them heavily involved in distributing or dealing drugs.” He scrubbed a hand down his bearded cheek. “Again, let me take this into serious consideration. I’ll have to run this by my supervising special agent first, anyway. I’ll schedule a meeting with him.”
Powers’ voice came from the phone in the center of the table again. “We’re seeing mostly prospects going in and out of the gas station. Seems like they are definitely increasing their numbers.”
“I can confirm that,” Crew started, “since I had a meeting with the leaders of group one and three. The Demons have now successfully set up their new Ohio chapter right on the outskirts of New Philadelphia. While it’s small yet with only about four patched members, it has about a half dozen wet-behind-the-ears prospects.”
“That sounds about the same as the Uniontown chapter,” Powers confirmed.
“All right,” Crew’s gaze circled the table, “that could mean age might not be a factor. However, being able to pull off being an outlaw biker would. Would any of you consider wearing a Demons’ prospect cut?”