Leave a Trail (Signal Bend #7)(104)

Becker spoke as his finger traced over the map. “There are blind areas to the south and west, where Horde and Scorps can come up on them unawares. You’ll have to stay low and keep quiet until the deal is going down, and then move your asses. From the south, here, you’ll be coming up almost behind them.

“There are always eight men,” Eight Ball cut in, his voice like tumbling rocks. “Four always keep back, in a row, guns on us. If you can move quiet, you can cut them down before they know they’re on their way to Hell.”

Isaac nodded. “The Horde will take the south. The Scorps will be good, but they’ll be coming in colder than the rest of us. They’ll run backup on this first fight. They can hang back a step from the west.”

“You’re sure we got that backup?” Becker asked, his eyes keen. “You trustin’ a Scorpions charter with the lives of all of us—after everything that’s gone down with them, everything they put on you?”

Isaac returned Becker’s look with calm heat. “I am. Bart is the Scorps’ point man on this run. I trust him like I trust any Horde in this room. They have our backs.”

“I don’t like it,” Eight Ball grumbled.

“Yeah, I know, Eight. But we had that fight. We had that vote.” Becker turned back to Isaac. “We’re in.

We’re trusting you with all we got, but Santaveria’s up our ass, too, and we’ve lost a lot to his psycho bullshit. Fuck. He put a goddamn hit on our whole club. We need clear.”

“We’re pushing in past the pickup. That’s our fight. We could use the backup, but we won’t take it sour if you pull back at the pickup.” As he finished, Show met eyes with Isaac, who tipped his head once and turned back to Becker.

“Well, brothers, I gotta say I take some offense to that. The Brazen Bulls are not runt lambs to run back to mama’s teat. I know you got a special stake in Santaveria himself, but the Perros go down, or we fight to the last man tryin’ to make it happen. The fight at the pickup is just the shot across their bow. We’re in for the whole f*ckin’ war.”

Becker gestured to Gil, a Bull soldier sitting at the far end of the table. Gil rose and made his way to the back of the chapel, then came back with a large, evidently heavy box. He set it on the table with a thud.

“Tell us more about your friend Vega.” Becker spoke with his eyes on the box, then turned to Isaac.

“He’s no threat to you. His interest is in taking down the Perros. Anybody who plays a part in that is clear of the Feds.”

“Except you.”

“That’s something else. Our shit.”

“I see it. It’s how you think you can get to Santaveria.”

Isaac nodded.

“Well, I got the sense that we didn’t have much to worry about from your new friend—”

“He’s not a friend.”

Becker cocked his head. “Yes. Apologies.” He cleared his throat. “This came. Law enforcement grade.”

At Becker’s sign, Gil opened the folded flaps on the box and pulled out a Kevlar vest. And another.

Becker continued, “There are twenty.”

Isaac laughed, and Becker raised his eyebrows.

“It’s nothing. The last time we had a big fight and some help in law, we got a gift just like that. I’ve been seeing things turning full circle lately.”

Show’s voice was lower than usual when he said, “We won that fight. I think that was the last time we won.”

Eight Ball sat forward and asked, “You think it’s a sign?”

Show shook his head. “Don’t believe in signs. But I’m glad to have the vests.”

“I do believe. I think it’s a sign.” Eight Ball reached out and brushed a reverent hand over the vest Gil had laid on the table.



oOo



They were getting an early start in the morning, and they faced the fight of their lives against a bigger, stronger enemy. The Bulls also ran guns and had stockpiled a solid arsenal for this fight, calling in favors from suppliers and clients alike, so they would be well armed once guns started to blaze. But all the men knew they needed every ounce of strength, focus, wits, and energy they possessed to have a chance at victory.

They knew that for a certainty.

They also knew, however, that there was a very strong chance that they would not survive the next day.

And they were not, as a rule, temperate men.

So the party that night was a riotous affair, with naked girls, loud music, and bottomless kegs, bottles, and bags. Zeke and Tommy were both neck deep in girls. But they were the only unattached Horde on this run, and none of the attached men took any notice of the ‘run rule.’ Isaac, Show, Len, and Badger sat in a row at the bar and drank.

Isaac was struggling with pain; as the night aged, that became more evident, and before midnight, he finished his tequila and pushed his glass away. “I’m gonna call Lilli and turn in.” He clapped his hand on Show’s shoulder. “See you in a few hours, brothers.” Then he limped down the hall toward the stairs that would take him up to the sleeping quarters.

They all watched him leave, then Show turned back to Len and Badger. As one, they nodded, finished their drinks, and followed their President up to bed.

The Bulls’ dorm rooms were narrow and utilitarian, barely enough room for a double bed and a chest, and no private bathroom. The Horde’s dorm rooms had twice the space at least, and each had a small bathroom with a toilet, sink, and shower. Badger had never thought of the room he’d lived in for years as ‘nice’ until now. But all he needed was a place to crash. Which he did. Before he slept, though, he called Adrienne. She answered on the first ring, but he could tell from the tone of her voice that she was lying down. He could visualize her in the very room he’d just been thinking fondly about, under the covers, in one of his t-shirts. His cock filled out and lifted the sheet.