Chapter 10 Stash House #3
"Okay." I held his gaze. "But when you're ready to fall apart, I'll be there."
Something flickered in his expression. The ghost of something that might have been gratitude, or maybe just surprise that anyone would offer.
"Tyler—"
"Church in thirty." Hawk's voice carried across the lot, cutting through whatever Tank had been about to say. "Everyone. We need to go through what we found."
Tank's jaw tightened. The moment passed. "After," he said quietly. Just that one word, loaded with everything we weren't saying.
"After."
We walked toward the clubhouse together, close enough that our shoulders almost touched, carrying secrets that could tear the world apart.
Church was grim.
The kill list sat in the center of the table like a bomb waiting to detonate.
Hawk had read through it twice, his expression growing darker with each pass.
Around him, the club absorbed the information in their own ways—Irish's fingers had stopped drumming, Blade's face was carved from stone.
Ghost sat at the far end of the table, crutches propped against his chair, fury radiating off him in waves.
Three days since he'd taken that bullet, and Rosa had forbidden him from the raid.
The frustration of missing the action was written all over his face—but it was nothing compared to what he was feeling now, looking at that list.
Kai sat in the corner, Axel's hand on his shoulder, staring at his own name in black ink.
"They've been operating like this for years.
" Hawk's voice was flat, controlled in a way that suggested volcanic rage beneath the surface.
"Everyone who could connect them to the drug recycling operation, everyone who testified against Chen, everyone who posed a threat to their network—they've been eliminating them one by one. "
"Sarah Reyes." I leaned forward, forcing myself to focus on what could be saved rather than what had already been lost. "She's scheduled to die tomorrow.
That date on the kill list—it's the same date that was on Cross's envelope.
He wasn't threatening me with something vague.
He was telling me exactly when he'd kill her. "
The room went cold.
"Sarah Reyes. The woman who stood and fought with us against Chen. Tomorrow." Hawk's voice was sharp. "You're telling me we have less than twelve hours."
"The Wolves who mobilized tonight—the ones Axel's contacts reported leaving the warehouse.
They went to Pendleton. They're positioning themselves to be there when Sarah's transported in the morning.
" I spread my hands on the table. "They're going to stage it as a suicide during transfer.
Make it look like she tried to run and got shot, or found a way to hang herself in transit.
Something that won't trigger an investigation. "
"So we intercept the transport." Ghost leaned forward despite his injury, eyes bright with purpose. "Hit them before they can touch her."
"Pendleton's a minimum security facility, but the transport protocols are military-grade.
Armed marshals, GPS tracking, check-ins every thirty minutes.
" I shook my head. "A direct assault on the facility would be suicide.
But they won't kill her inside Pendleton—too many cameras, too many witnesses. They'll do it on the road."
"Then we hit them on the road." Hawk's voice brooked no argument. "Where and when?"
"I don't know yet. I have contacts—people who owe me favors from the Chen case. If anyone can get transport schedules on short notice, it's them."
"Then make the calls. Now." Hawk turned to the room. "Everyone else—we plan for a dawn intercept. Best case, Tyler gets us the route and timing. Worst case, we stake out every road leading from Pendleton and pray we get lucky."
Tank hadn't spoken since we'd sat down. He was staring at the kill list, at the page that held his brother's name, and the stillness radiating off him was the kind that preceded violence.
"There's something else." His voice cut through the room like a blade. "Danny Morrison. He's on this list. Resolved. September third, 2019."
Hawk's eyes narrowed. "Your brother."
"Yeah." Tank's hands were flat on the table, knuckles white.
"I spent six years thinking he overdosed.
Blaming myself for not seeing the signs, for not being there, for not saving him.
" He looked up, and the rage in his expression was terrible to behold.
"He was murdered. They staged it to look like user error, and I believed it.
I grieved it. And the whole time, it was these people. "
No one spoke. There was nothing to say.
"This isn't just about territory anymore.
" Tank's voice dropped, went cold in a way I'd never heard from him.
"This isn't about drug shipments or federal corruption or even Cross.
This is personal. They took my brother from me.
They're trying to take Tyler's people. They've got Kai's name on a fucking kill list." He looked around the table, meeting each pair of eyes in turn.
"Whatever we do next, I'm in. All the way.
Until every last one of them pays for what they've done. "
"Then we make them pay." Hawk nodded slowly. "Starting with Sarah Reyes. We get her out. We keep her alive. And then we use what she knows to burn this whole network to the ground."
I stepped away to make my calls, finding a quiet corner of the room while the others bent over maps and started planning contingencies.
Three contacts. Two voicemails. One answer. Maggie Jones was a clerk in the U.S. Marshals Service who'd fed me information during the Chen case. She owed me for keeping her name out of the final report. When I explained what I needed, there was a long pause.
"You're asking me to risk my career. My freedom."
"I'm asking you to help me save a woman's life."
Another pause. Then: "Transport leaves Pendleton at 06:00. Route 395, I-15 southwest toward a private facility near Barstow. Two marshals in the vehicle, plus the driver. But Tyler—there's more."
"More?"
"Additional security requested. Private contractors—off the books. The paperwork says 'enhanced protection due to credible threats,' but I've seen this before. It's cover. They're bringing in outside muscle to make sure she doesn't survive the trip."
Cross's Wolves. The ones who'd mobilized tonight. They'd be there in the morning, riding alongside the transport, waiting for their moment.
"How many?"
"I don't know. The request just said 'appropriate force.' Could be four, could be twelve. Whatever it is, they're planning to make sure she doesn't reach Barstow alive."
"Thank you, Maggie."
"Don't thank me. Just make sure she lives. And Tyler?" A pause. "Don't ever call this number again."
The line went dead. I walked back to the table, where the others were hunched over a map of the region.
"Route 395 south, then east on the 15 toward Barstow.
Transport leaves at 06:00. Two marshals, one driver—but they've got outside contractors joining the escort.
Private muscle. Probably Cross's people. "
Hawk looked up. "How many?"
"Unknown. Could be a handful, could be a small army."
"Then we bring our own army." Hawk's finger traced the route on the map. "There's a stretch of road about forty miles south of Pendleton. Desert on both sides, minimal traffic, blind curves. If we're going to hit them, that's where we do it."
"The marshals are just doing their job," I cautioned. "Non-lethal if possible."
"Agreed. We take them down clean, restrain them, and disappear with Sarah before anyone knows what happened." Hawk looked around the table. "But the contractors—Cross's people—they knew what they signed up for. No mercy."
The planning continued into the night. Routes memorized, weapons checked, roles assigned.
I worked alongside the others, the tactical part of my brain fully engaged while the rest of me cycled through fear and determination and the gnawing awareness that we were about to assault a federal transport with barely any preparation.
But underneath all of it was something else.
Tank, across the room, methodically checking weapons with hands that never trembled.
Tank, who'd just learned his brother was murdered and was pushing through it because someone else needed saving.
Tank, who'd looked at me in the parking lot and said after like it was a promise.
I'd meant what I told him. When he was ready to fall apart, I'd be there.
But first, we had to survive the dawn.