Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
I looked around the room until I found Warlock. He was looking at me intently. I glanced at Iris before meeting Warlock’s gaze squarely and holding it while the conversation around us continued. The other man merely raised an eyebrow before lifting his chin, an indication he understood Iris was mine.
She stepped back, ducking her head. Not surprising given she was squarely in a meeting where men easily two or three times her size were discussing how best to kill a bunch of motherfuckers. I wasn’t ready to take her in hand at the moment, so I focused on the rest of the meeting.
“I wonder why they pick up new kids on their way back from selling the last bunch.” Shotgun continued to peck on his laptop. Even when he wasn’t in his office, he was still working, picking up feeds from the Shadow Demons. Shadow Demons was a club in Rockwell, Illinois. They weren’t exactly MC, but they operated much the same. They liked to think of themselves as one-percenters who just happened to be billionaires. Alexi Petrov was their president and co-CEO of Argent Tech along with Azriel Ivanovich and Giovanni Romano. They were the bridge between our clubs. I had the feeling El Diablo would one day be the muscle for all of us, and I wasn’t sure how that sat with me.
“To keep exposure to a minimum. They only leave that warehouse with kids in tow once every ninety days.” The guy who spoke -- Wrath -- looked more like a corporate lawyer than a biker. Not surprising since he was the District Attorney for this area. From what I understood, he’d been shoved into that role several years before with the intention of finishing out the four-year term his predecessor had started before leaving the position under mysterious circumstances. Wrath had done such a good job of cleaning up the corruption that the people had elected him for a second and then a third. I couldn’t deny someone that high up in the city and district was a wonderful pet to have. “It’s a smart move. Only mistake they’ve made is making the moves so predictable.”
“Oh?” El Diablo raised an eyebrow. “Do continue.”
Wrath shrugged. “They leave at the same time every ninety days. Exactly. On the nose. They take the same route, though they do use different vehicles. Same driver. Same muscle. Same drop-off location. The men who take possession of the children are just as predictable, only not as polished. There is one fifteen-second call made exactly seventy-two hours before they move the kids. Giovanni listened in on the last one. We’ll know once we see them leave, but it sounded like they confirmed the move was still happening and gave the number of kids to be moved.”
El Diablo steepled his fingers in front of him. “Seventy-two hours. Every time.”
“Giovanni found the phone records. And it wasn’t easy. Other than their predictability, they’re pretty careful and very hard to trace.” Wrath delivered the information with a casual air. Like he didn’t really give a fuck. His eyes told a different story. He wanted these fuckers. Badly.
“Exactly. To the hour. Initiated by the warehouse team.”
“OCD?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care. But it means we have a reliable timeline to work with.”
“I’d prefer to have at least one more test on that phone call, but we can’t risk the kids.” Samson, the vice president of Black Reign, sat back in his chair in the corner of the room. He was usually quiet, staying in the background. “The second crew doesn’t appear to be as conscious of time constraints as the warehouse group. Like they don’t understand they need to get in and out quickly. Making the first party wait increases the likelihood of all of them getting caught.”
“Precisely.” Wrath wrapped his knuckles on the table. “And that’s how we’ll find them.”
“Has it ever happened?”
“Not that we can find.”
“Good,” I said, needing to assert myself in all this ego. While I thought I might respect this club and her members, they’d asked Iron Tzars to do this. El Diablo had asked me to bring my men down here to work this. We hadn’t volunteered for it. “I want Wylde in the middle of this. He’s my intel guy, and he and Brick will put our operation together from here forward. He should have been in there with Shotgun and Esther more the last two months instead of with the rest of the club. Any help you want to lend will be appreciated, but I need you to understand that if we’re doing this, we do it my way, and I’m taking over from here.”
El Diablo grinned. “Of course, Sting. You have complete control over every aspect of these operations. Ask for anything you need.” He glanced around the room at his men. “We are completely at your service. We’ll do as much or as little as you require.”