Chapter Thirteen #3
“We got word this morning,” he said. “Gas station up near the county line had some visitors in shiny suits. Badge types. Asking questions about who fuels up there and when. Not about us. About Diaz’s routes.”
My pulse jumped.
“Word is Hanley’s been quietly chasing some leads. It’s unclear if he got them from Jason or elsewhere. Might be coincidence the timing lines up. Might not. Either way, the feds sniffing near Diaz’s backyard is good for us.”
“Means he’s going to get twitchy,” General said.
“Yeah,” Atilla agreed. “He’ll look at his roads harder. Which means we watch our asses. Nobody out alone. No joyrides. No solo runs. You think you can stop for beer on the way home by yourself, you’re wrong. We do not giftwrap targets for him.”
A rumble of agreement moved through the room.
“At the same time,” Atilla went on, “we start our end. Spade’s poking his money. Jade’s helping him prep a care package for Detective Hanley. We’re kicking Diaz’s stool out and letting them push where it falls.”
He scanned the room, gaze landing on me for a second. “Roth is done. He’s not our problem anymore. Diaz doesn’t know that yet. So we use the time between him figuring it out and him putting his next plan on the board. We make ourselves harder to hit. We make him easier.”
He raised his fork like a weird little toast. “Eat. Train. Stay close. We got a war coming. No sense walking into it on an empty stomach.”
Laughter broke the tension. Loud. A little forced. Still better than silence.
Kane squeezed my knee under the table. “You hear that?”
“I’m not leaving the property without three bikers and a Tinker,” I said. “I got it.”
“Tinker’s busy,” he said. “But I can loan you Knuckles.”
* * *
That afternoon, Casey dragged me outside. “Drills,” she explained. “Kids again.”
“Diaz’s men might be watching.” I glanced at the fence.
Casey squared her shoulders. “Then they can see we’re not easy pickings. We refuse to hide in the basement all day. Kids need air.”
I couldn’t argue with her logic.
We ran two more safe room drills. The children had transformed them into games -- excitement replacing their earlier fear.
Riley, Casey’s daughter, gripped my hand as we descended the stairs.
“Is the bad man still gone?” She leaned close, her voice barely audible.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “He’s gone.”
Her small fingers tightened around mine. “You scared?”
“Sometimes,” I admitted.
Riley’s head bobbed in solemn understanding. “I scared too.” She glanced toward where Casey stood directing the other children. “Mommy says scared doesn’t mean we stop moving.”
I smiled down at her. “Your mommy knows what she’s talking about.”
Riley considered. “She says I can be brave and scared at the same time,” she added.
“She’s right,” I said.
We reached the bottom of the stairs. The safe room door loomed.
“You’re very brave,” I told Riley.
She squeezed my hand and let go, running to claim her favorite cot.
By the time we finished, sweat dampened the back of my neck and the kids had turned the drills into a competition.
Casey checked the time. “Faster than yesterday. We’ll shave another fifteen seconds off by the weekend.”
“Do you have a leaderboard?” I asked.
“Thinking about it. Sticker charts motivate just as much as fear.”
We walked back upstairs together.
“Spade’s got you working hard,” she said. “Too hard?”
“Just enough,” I said. “He checked in before my brain melted today. That’s something.”
“You going to be okay when this goes from maps to real?” she asked. “When all those lines on the wall turn into sirens on the news?”
“I don’t know. I hope so.”
She bumped my shoulder. “You’re tougher than you think. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”
“I give myself too much blame,” I said.
“Those two things are twins,” she replied.
We made it back to the common room as Kane headed for the hallway. “Church tonight,” he said. “Prez wants all patched members and old ladies in the room. You included.”
My stomach did a little flip. “Me?” I asked.
“You help build the plan, you get to hear it,” he said. “You don’t get to talk unless someone asks you something, but you’re in there.”
“I don’t have a patch,” I said.
“You’re with me,” he said simply.
That did different things inside my chest than it had the week before. Fear mixed with pride.
“I don’t have to… vote or anything, right?” I asked. “Because I don’t know the rules.”
“No votes,” he said. “Just listen. If someone asks you something, answer honestly. Don’t sugarcoat.”
“Okay,” I said.
He studied my face. “You want to sit this one out?” he asked. “Nobody’s going to think less of you.”
I shook my head. “I want to hear,” I said. “If they’re going to swing the hammer, I want to know where it’s going to fall.”
He nodded, approval warm in his gaze. “Good,” he said. “Wear the boots. You look more intimidating that way.”
* * *
Atilla presided at the head of the table. General settled to his right. Spade had his laptop open, cables winding toward the big monitor on the wall.
A row of older women sat against the back wall, out of the way but watching: Marci, Casey, Solena, and the other old ladies. I hadn’t had a chance to get to know Meredith, Isy, and Madison as well as the other three.
Kane steered me to a seat just behind his shoulder, between him and the wall -- close enough to see everything, but easy to slip out if I needed to.
“You okay?” he murmured.
“Ask me after,” I said.
He almost smiled.
When everyone had taken their seats, Atilla rapped his knuckles on the wood. “All right. You know why we’re here.”
He gave Spade a nod.
The lights dimmed. The monitor flared to life with Diaz’s network sprawling across it.
Spade walked us through the same three options he’d shown me earlier: hit the money, call in the Feds, or use Victor. He laid out the plan -- first we cripple Diaz’s finances, assemble our package, gauge his reaction, then bring in law enforcement. Victor would serve as a later wedge.
“This is Jade’s choice.” Spade zoomed in on the bar I’d circled.
Questions flew: logistics, timelines, which teams watched which roads, which men had contacts at gas stations, who’d join the first quiet sabotage run. Atilla kept things moving -- letting everyone speak but cutting off tangents we couldn’t tackle yet.
Then General asked, “What about Elena and the kid?”
Murmurs rippled around the table. Some surprise. Some resignation.
“We do what we can to keep them out of the splash zone,” Atilla said. “Spade’s got their addresses. We’re not dragging a nine-year-old into a firefight. They never chose Diaz. They don’t answer his calls.”
“Diaz won’t hesitate to use the wife, but apparently his daughter is a different story,” one of the older men said.
“We’ll make sure they have an exit if we can. We do not put them in harm’s way on purpose. Clear?”
Everyone nodded.
Somebody looked back at me. “Jade?”
My stomach clenched. “Yeah?”
“You ever meet Diaz?”
“No,” I said. “Only his men.”
“Are you afraid of him?” the man asked.
“Yes,” I admitted. “But I’m done letting that fear make my decisions.”
Atilla watched me. So did Kane.
Silence settled for a beat.
Atilla nodded once. “Any other questions for Jade?”
No one spoke.
“Good,” he said. “Spade, you start poking the money as soon as we’re done.
I want to hear from our contacts if anything shakes loose.
Falcon, General, you pull the teams for local runs.
Nothing flashy. Nothing that’s going to put a spotlight on us from day one.
We’re ghosts until we decide we’re not.”
He looked at me again. “You and Casey keep the kids ready. Use whatever drills you need. Nobody panics. Nobody freezes.”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
He tapped the table. “Church dismissed. Eat. Sleep. Be ready.”
Chairs scraped back. Voices rose.
Kane turned to me. “You did good.”
“I didn’t throw up or cry,” I said. “So… win.”
He laughed. “High bar you set yourself.”
“I’m an overachiever.”
* * *
The sun had barely set when the first little thing went wrong for Diaz.
Spade sat on the couch later, laptop open, feet up on the coffee table. I sprawled sideways with my head in Kane’s lap, half-watching some mindless show, half-listening to the click of keys.
Spade’s breath hitched.
“What?” I asked, lifting my head.
He grinned, feral. “Construction company just had an unexpected audit scheduled,” he said. “City inspector found ‘irregularities’ on three permits. Work stopped. Money frozen until someone sorts it out. That someone is not going to be Diaz tonight.”
“That fast?” I asked.
“I’ve been laying groundwork for days,” he said. “Roth just gave me the last numbers I needed. Dominoes are already wobbling.”
Kane’s fingers carded through my hair. “One down,” he said. “A few hundred to go.”
I rested my head back on his leg and closed my eyes for a second. I didn’t know yet how this story would end. How much blood it would take. How many nights like this we’d have before the storm really hit. But chapter by chapter, piece by piece, Diaz’s world shrank.
My fear didn’t vanish. It just stopped owning every step.
That was enough for now.