Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 66480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Ghost stopped pacing long enough to look at the photos, his jaw clenching so tight I could hear his teeth grind. "And you've been watching this happen for months without doing a goddamn thing?" His voice cut through the room like a blade.
"He's been gathering intelligence," Vittorio answered before I could, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Without which we'd have nothing to work with now. Also, these girls are coming from Nevada. Rocky’s not in Nevada, nor has he been to Nevada. He’s doing his part to rescue these girls after he found the underground network in the first Goddamned place.” He said all this without looking at Ghost or raising his voice. “Remember why we're here, Ghost."
"Hard to forget when the man who fucked my daughter stands in my clubhouse pretending to be some kind of Goddamned hero." Ghost's eyes burned into mine, daring me to respond.
I kept my face neutral despite the fire building in my chest. If this were anyone other than Wren’s father, I’d have beat him to a pulp. But Wren meant more to me than my ego, so I kept my tone civil. "This operation matters more than your opinion of me, Ghost. Those girls have less than forty-eight hours before they disappear into a dark abyss of pain and suffering for the rest of their natural lives. However short that might be."
Vittorio placed a firm hand on the table between us. "Focus. The transfer happens tomorrow night. After that, they split up the girls and ship them to buyers across three states. If we don't move just right at just the right time, we lose them."
Jack finally looked up from his knife, the blade gleaming under the harsh overhead lights. "You sure your cover ain't blown already? After last night's clusterfuck?"
The question hung in the air, legitimate and barbed. "Probably. But it doesn’t matter. They’re committed. Their only choice is to go through with the deal. Too much money on the line because it’s not only this shipment he’d be giving up. It would be all future business with this guy. And it might put the Acid in the cross hairs for looking so weak he couldn’t control his home territory long enough for one night’s work. He'll increase security, maybe change some protocols, but this is happening."
"And we're just supposed to trust your intel?" Ghost demanded, leaning across the table. "How do we know this isn't bullshit to get us in a vulnerable position?"
"Because I verified it myself," Vittorio cut in. His voice remained level but his irritation came through loud and clear. "My people followed the money trail independently. The transfer is happening. And Rocky's information lines up perfectly with what we've uncovered."
Ghost backed off, but the hostility in his eyes didn't diminish.
"The buyers arrive between oh-one-hundred and oh-two-hundred," I continued, pointing to another spot on the map. "They inspect the 'cargo' before cash transfers, which means all the girls will be gathered in the main floor area. That's our window. When they're all in one place but before they're loaded for transport."
Vittorio highlighted the entry points on the map. "We'll need three teams. One for the main entrance, one for the loading dock, and one for extraction and medical support."
I nodded. "The guards carry automatic weapons, but they're sloppy. Overconfident. They don't expect any resistance, but more importantly, they don’t know how to use their weapons properly. You take an experienced team, and you’ll have the advantage."
"They'll get more than they bargained for," Jack rumbled, testing the knife's edge against his thumb before sliding it into a sheath at his hip.
Ghost moved back to the table, his focus reluctantly shifting to the tactical details. "What about the girls? Their physical condition? Will they be able to move under their own power?"
The question caught me off guard. The genuine concern in his voice for women he'd never met didn’t exactly shock me, but it made sense. It reminded me that beneath the hatred directed at me burned a sense of justice that defined Bound in Blood's code. And, according to his code, I was a fucking bastard. I wouldn’t argue with him on that count and I had no excuse for what I’d done. But my actions then didn’t mean I didn’t love Wren now. The woman had knocked me on my ass from the moment I saw her.
"They'll be conscious but disoriented," I explained. "They’re kept manageable with benzos and heroin, enough to make them compliant without knocking them out completely so the can still take direction." The words tasted foul in my mouth.
Jack's knife stilled. "They drug children to sell them easier?"
"Yes."
The simple confirmation settled over the room like a shroud, hardening resolve on every face around the table. For a moment, personal animosities faded beneath the weight of what we faced.