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“I know, but I won’t ever forget what you did for me.”
We end the call and I pull up Cole’s number and dial it.
“It’s after midnight, so I’m guessing something significant has come up,” he says.
“Yeah, we have an address. I’m gonna stake it out tonight. Can you send someone to watch it with me?”
“Yeah, shoot it through and I’ll get J over there.”
“Thanks, brother.”
I text him the address and get dressed again. Five minutes later, I’m out the door and on my bike, heading towards Zenith’s address.
Recalling what Striker told us about Zenith having two operations, I know we’ll need to watch this one and track where everyone goes in an effort to locate their other location. That’s the fucking location I want; it’s the one where we’ll find Bourne.
“How’d you go?” Scott asks early the next morning when he drops by to check in on J and me.
J hands him the binoculars. “Take a look. There’s nothing much to see here yet.”
Scott surveys the property. From what we can ascertain, there’re four men there. One manning the front gate, one walking the perimeter, and two inside. As Scott passes the binoculars back to J, he says to me, “So are you thinking we set up a roster with two of our guys watching around the clock, and others following whoever comes and goes?”
“Yeah. I’ve organised for some of my members to come up today to help. And King will send more if we need them.”
We’d all prefer just to force the guys we’re watching to give us information, but that hasn’t proved successful with this gang. We need to be patient and wait for them to take us to Bourne.
“Okay, I’ll get over to the clubhouse and get this roster sorted. I’ve got Nash and Griff ready to take over from you two in an hour.”
After he leaves, J says, “You think we’re in for the long haul with these assholes?”
“Yeah. Their system is sophisticated. We’ve never been able to track the workers back to the leader. Fuck knows how they do it, but they’re evasive. And their workers are loyal; they’d rather die than give up what they know.”
“Fuck, it sounds like a cult.”
He’s right; that’s exactly what I’m beginning to think this group is. A fucking cult that we need to infiltrate somehow.
36
Birdie
* * *
“King came home today,” Lily says over the phone early one morning while I’m getting ready for work. “Guess what he told me?”
I laugh. God only knows what came out of King’s mouth that has her all worked up. “That he thinks he should build you a second bedroom for your extended closet?”
She rolls her eyes. “Funny, B. No, he told me that he probably won’t get home for Christmas until Christmas Eve.” She widens her eyes now. “Doesn’t the man know I need him here before Christmas Eve? I’m going to lose my shit with all these kids of his. They’re already fighting and the school holidays have only just begun.”
One of the things I love the absolute most about Lily is that whereas other friends shy away from talking to me about their children, because they worry it’ll dredge up pain for me, Lily doesn’t. She never has. I hear about all her worries, her stress, and her joy. She doesn’t hide any of it from me, and I’m so grateful for that.
“The good news is I’ll be there on Christmas Day and we can drink all the wine while he chases after the kids.”
“Oh, thank God. When are you coming to Sydney?”
“Winter and I still need to finalise the date. He hasn’t told me yet when he’ll be free, but I’m not hopeful it’ll be before Christmas Eve if King doesn’t think he’ll be home till then.”
“Winter?
??s home today, right?”
