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"Gun-running isn't exactly any safer," I reasoned with him.

"No," he agreed. "But we've done some talking. We are all ready for something new. Even if the risk is higher. High risk, high reward, and all that shit."

"You got any connections in the force around here? What?" I asked when a slow, cocky smile tugged at Huck and McCoy's lips.

"Got an ex step-brother who I kept close with even when his mom left my old man. He joined the force several years back. He's a good cop, but he understands there are worse things to handle than a few heavily insured cars going missing."

"What about if you change professions? Even an understanding cop generally doesn't like illegal guns hitting the streets. What?" I asked again when their smiles spread once more.

"You're in the south now, man," McCoy explained. "Everyone likes their guns down here."

"Even illegal ones?" I pressed.

"Honestly, way shit is going in the world lately, I'd say the biggest market for the illegal guns, behind the local drug trade, is the prepper freaks who want to stockpile for the end of the world."

"Interesting." We didn't have a lot of prepper sorts back home. Or, at least, none that would fess up to it.

"There's a market. Reign had done his own research, but after he left, I sniffed around," Huck said, shrugging. "It's not going to be easy," he added, but in no way seemed intimidated by the upcoming hard work. "There are the Russian brothers, a group of guys from Ukraine, and a handful of local street gangs vying for control of the arms trade here. Of them, the Russians are just barely holding onto the top position. The Ukrainians are working on trying to take them out. And the street guys are stealing from both of them. It's a clusterfuck. There needs to be some stable leadership. With some planning, we can make that happen."

"You guys got bikes?" I asked. "They're kind of a requirement."

"Teddy keeps all our extra vehicles at his place. He's got a ten-car garage. Everyone but Teddy has a bike."

"Teddy is going to be part of the club if this goes through? Isn't he rich already?"

"He likes a little action. It sounds prejudiced as fuck, but he's an asset because no one ever suspects him."

"And what about this business?" I asked, waving a hand toward the building as a whole.

"We'd have to keep The Yard open. Even if we retire the chopping biz. We need legit incomes."

That was true. Over the years, Reign had started to take a page out of the Mallicks' book— diversifying. Getting his hands in some other pots. Hell, he even had a shop too.

Repo would like this crew, being a grease monkey himself.

Reign would like Huck's foresight. It was easy for a group to start up a criminal enterprise without remembering they'd have to deal with the IRS at some point, trying to explain how they paid their rent or mortgage when there was no proof of income on the books.

"Speaking of," McCoy said, standing, rolling a crick out of his neck. "I have someone bringing in their car at six in the morning. See you guys tomorrow," he said, jerking his chin at me, then Huck, before making his way out of the apartment.

"How long have you known your team?" I asked.

"Most of 'em since we were teenagers. Che a little later. He didn't come over until he was eighteen. Met him through the car scene. They're some of our best unofficial clients, the street racers."

"So you know you can trust them."

"Let's just say we all know where the bodies are buried. And none of us plans on going down for them. We've all been like brothers. I know I can trust them with my life Which is good, because I have a feeling that if this goes forward, we might just barely hold onto our lives while we get control of the trade."

That was a fair worry.

The Henchmen back in Navesink Bank had a lot going for them. Friends with other organizations they knew they could rely on in tight spots. Hell, Hailstorm members still guarded the gates.

If these guys needed to take out not only the Russians, but the Ukrainians, and the local street gangs without any real backup, then, yeah, it was going to be a rough six months to a year for them.

Just to get to the top.

Then they would have to defend their position there.

It took a long-ass time for Reign to crush the competition. And that was with the head-start of his old man already cornering the market before he was even born.

Starting completely from scratch in a really competitive field?

Shit was going to be intense.

I wasn't even sure if he grasped just how much he stood to lose.

"I know," Huck said, dragging my attention back to him.

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