Chapter 35
KNOX
On the way down the corridor, I dial Maren’s number.
She’d told me she wanted to go back home tonight and paint.
Something about what we had done and where we had done it had got her creative juices flowing.
I’d hated the idea, given everything going on, but she’d been adamant.
So, she’d gone home to paint and have an early night.
With the agreement that I could place four prospects around her building.
When she doesn’t answer, I hang up the phone.
“Havoc,” I call out. “A word?”
He hangs back with me, but his eyes are focused in the direction of our rooms. I need to give the man something to do so he doesn’t have time to fall apart for his friend. “What’s up, Prez?”
“We’ve still got hangarounds or prospects around Maren’s place, right?”
He nods. “We do.”
Relief loosens in my chest, but only for a moment. “Can you call one of them? Give them a heads-up that there’s trouble. Tell ‘em what to look for, what to expect.”
Havoc rubs his hand over his jaw. “Kinda weapons our men have got won’t last two minutes against the firepower those—”
“I know. But it’s better they know, even if it only serves to stop them falling asleep for a couple of hours when they think it’s all quiet. How many semi-automatics do we have?”
“Four.”
“Send one over.”
Havoc’s face changes. “Prez. That would leave us short-handed if—”
“Just do it.” He and I both know our semis shouldn’t be going to prospects to watch over a woman, leaving us ill-prepared here. So, I play the only hand I have. “I asked her to be my old lady. She’s got my fucking heart, brother. I don’t know what I’d do if they take her and hurt her.”
“Jesus,” Havoc says. “Fine. I’ll send one. And, hopefully, Alvarez doesn’t come back for seven days.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “You think he’s going to be okay, Prez?”
I also take a deep breath. “He’s alive. And we’ll do whatever we have to do to keep it that way.”
“You think I should call his mom?”
I shake my head. “Let him decide that. I need you in church. And so does Vandal. You’re more use in there than in his room with him. Give him his privacy and let Reaper decide what the right steps are. Trust your brother to make the right call.”
When we step into church, everyone is seated, and I find my fucking feet after they were just whipped out from under me.
“We’re gonna lock it the fuck down,” I bark, my voice snapping through the chatter.
“I want the perimeter of the compound sealed off. Don’t waste time fortifying.
That missile launcher suggests that anything we do with gates and bricks will be blown apart in seconds.
But I want spotters or cameras posted on the roads and warnings of anyone incoming.
There are only two roads that lead here.
Ridge, I want them manned as far up as we can go to give us as much notice that they are on their way in. ”
“I’ll set that up.”
I debate the urge to go drag Maren here. But I know that this is the epicenter right now. And Alvarez left in the opposite direction to her home. My gut tells me a man like Alvarez means what he says. Which means we won’t see him again for seven days.
Goddamnit.
“Sunny, call in every prospect. I want them on hand, at all times, for the next seven days. Go through the list of hangarounds waiting for a prospect slot. Ignore the ones currently on Maren. Find the best ten and call them in too.”
Sunny nods. “It’ll be done in the next hour.”
“Havoc,” I continue. “I want an inventory of every weapon we’ve got.
Then, make a list of what equipment we need to effectively see these guys off.
Do it quick. I’m gonna call King and ask for national help.
” I remember I never heard back from Grudge or Wren about that plate and make a note to call and ask.
Knowing where the plate is registered might give us a location to start looking for Alvarez’s set up.
Havoc’s familiar grin is gone. “Got it. Plus I already sent Rainbow to Maren’s place with one of the semis.”
I turn to North. “I want intel. Everything we can find out about Mateo Alvarez. Dig deep. Send out feelers to people we know. I’ll call King, see if we can call in Vex or that other person, Wren. You need anything, let me know.”
North nods once. “I’ll start digging.”
“Start in Miami,” I add. “He’s not local. No way a man could build an operation like that without us knowing. Has to be east coast. Tampa is too far of a drive. And those guys didn’t look like they’d been riding hours to come down from Tampa.”
“On it,” North says.
I look to Lock. “You still got that friend of yours in the FBI office in Miramar?”
Havoc huffs a laugh for the first time since Alvarez appeared, since Vandal was hurt. “Feel like you should put air quotes around the friend bit, Prez.”
Lock raises his middle finger in Havoc’s direction. “I do.”
Usually, we find our way to humor, even in the darkest times. It lifts the spirits, builds a sense of team, helps ease the fear. But this spark of it doesn’t last. What just happened is too much for everyone to process.
“Ask her about Alvarez. The guy’s cocky.
Confident enough to give us his name, as if he was untouchable, because he believes that us knowing wouldn’t make it any easier to catch him.
I want ports checked, shipping routes, and anything else that might connect him to Gulf weapons or drugs trafficking.
I want to know how he moves, who he’s got here, and how he built this. ”
Lock’s eyebrows raise. “That’s a tall order, Prez. Not sure she’ll give us that much, but I’ll see what I can get.”
“Maybe you should ride over to Miramar and finally dick her down to persuade her,” Sunny says.
Lock glares at Sunny. “I let you get away with most of the shit that comes out of your mouth, but you ever talk about her like that again and I’ll—”
“Sorry,” Sunny says. “But, brothers, we’re not gonna fix this if we don’t remember who we are. We gotta find a way through this together, like we always do. And if that’s making fun of Miramar chick or breaking into cheesy song like Vandal would, then…we just gotta hold on to that shit.”
I think about how Vandal is lying in his room, beaten to within an inch of his fucking life. And he’d still probably find a way to sing some song about getting knocked down and getting up again.
“Brothers. Sunny’s right. Lock, just call her. Do what you’ve got to do.”
I take a second to light a cigarette. I need something stronger, a whole bottle of whiskey to blot out what happened tonight.
But, instead, I’ll be staying sober, doing what I need to do.
“When I call King, I’ll see if we can get some support, too.
Extra brothers. We can house some here, but some are going to have to stay with you guys.
Conflicts with trying to maintains some kind of lock down, but we just don’t have the space. All good with that?”
Everyone nods, and then Sunny takes a quick count of how many everyone can house.
“Let’s get to it.” As I walk back to my room, I try Maren again and then type a message.
Me: Hey, Love
Love? God I’m a fucking schmuck for this woman, but I delete it anyway.
Me: Sweetheart, there’s been a bit of trouble.
I’m fine. Call me. But it would be safer if you’d ask the prospects outside to lead you to either the clubhouse or go to my house.
I know you’re probably asleep now but do it in the morning.
There’s a lockbox hidden on the porch by the chair you sat on.
The number is 2221. Let yourself in, and I’ll be home when I can.
I dip my head into Vandal’s room. Reaper has a bowl of water and is still cleaning him up.
“We’re going to need to take him for a series of X-rays, mostly I’m concerned about his skull,” Reaper says, wringing the cloth out.
“My guess is they’ve broken his orbital bone, amongst other things.
Just trying to make him look less like roadkill before we go. ”
“You doing okay, V?” I ask.
“Morphine is good…shit.” The words come out a little slurry.
“Do what you’ve got to do,” I tell Reaper. “Patch him up, first. He’s your priority. Then, I want you to stock up on our medic supplies but make a second medical center at your own place. I want a backup there in case anything happens here.”
Reaper purses his lips. “You really think they’d use that missile launcher?”
I shrug. “Didn’t get the best look at it, but it was pretty big. Those things go for around a hundred thousand dollars. The missiles alone for tens of thousands. Doubt they use them without thinking of the cost.”
He drops the rag and crosses his arms. “See, here’s the thing. I think they wanted us to see it, to know they had it. But they were too close to use it. If they’d fired that thing at our clubhouse, they would have been hundred percent in the blast zone when this place blew apart.”
I hadn’t considered that. “You think so?”
“They’re either really fucking clueless and don’t know that, in which case, they can race us into hell when we all die. Or it was for show.”
I can’t decide whether that makes me feel better or not. “Thanks, brother. Let me know when you take Vandal for an X-ray. You going to the ER?”
He shakes his head. “No. An old buddy of mine took a job at a private X-ray place. He’s gonna meet us there shortly so I can take V in off the books. An ER would ask questions about his injuries and why he’s already loaded up on morphine.”
I slap Reaper on the shoulder. “Thanks. I know you hate being caged, so thanks for driving him.”
Reaper nods. “Never a problem, Prez. Gonna take him in the van. I got a couple of prospects dragging a mattress into the back so he can lie down and be comfortable.”
By the time I get to my room, I feel exhausted.