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Nitro handed Lafayette the money. “Four boats, two drivers as agreed.”
Bastien stepped off his airboat closer to where we stood. “All fueled. I checked the carburetor on each one. Took them for a quick spin before topping off the fuel.”
“Thanks, Bast.”
My thanks were genuine. I liked the kid. He was sixteen going on fifty and in that stage where he was growing into his new shoulders and growth spurt. Bastien stood a good three inches above his father. A few more growth spurts and he’d look me in the eye. At six inches above I’m not the tallest of my brothers but I’m not far from it.
Keep him well-fed and his shoulder span would reach line-backer proportions.
He had his father’s dark hair with blue eyes. I’d never met his mother. She passed away when Bastien was ten. From my brief interactions with the father and son duo I’d concluded Bastien was the responsible one. When this mess was done and my woman was safe, I was going to come back and have a talk with Bastien.
Wizard could look at Claude's tracking history and compile a schedule. Doc injected both Lafayette men with tracking devices two years ago when they started working for us. It’s not his fault Claude was too drunk to remember. We hadn’t intended to give Bastien one. He was underage. And, frankly, we trusted him. He asked for us to inject him.
When we asked him why, he wouldn’t give us details. He was terrified. What Bastien would say is Claude often sent him on shady deals. Drugs, human trafficking, that kind of shady. Bastien wanted a locator in case he ever went missing. Said he had siblings and didn’t want them to worry if the worst happened. Damn. Kid was barely thirteen then. I wasn’t kidding about the going on fifty part.
Claude handed me two sets of keys. I turned, tossing a set to Outlaw.
“You take point.”
He caught them with a smile, “Aye, aye Cap’n’.”
“Sure, you don’t want me to take point, Gambit? I know these waters better than anyone.”
“No one has more skills than Alcide Fontenot.”
“Holy fuck. You’re the...”
Thank fuck! Papa put his hand over Bastien’s mouth. The kid didn’t know. Outlaw hated the name Pirate. No one knew why. What we did know is he’d tear a motherfucker a new asshole if you called him that name. Hell, if he didn’t like you and you just used the word in his presence, he might deck you.
Papa leaned down closer to Bastien’s ear. “Never use that word around him. Never, under any circumstances, refer to him by that moniker.”
Outlaw winked at me and headed toward Bastien. He stopped not two feet from the younger man. “Bast. Can I call you Bast?”
Bastien stammered. “Su-sure.”
“Thanks, Bast. Papa here. He must like you. He’s giving you a warning. The last guy that called me Pirate.”
Outlaws made a face like he’d just sucked on a lemon when he said the word pirate.
“I punched him in the dick. I could have punched him in the throat, but I wanted to leave a lasting impression.”
Bastien swallowed. “Thanks for the head’s up.”
“Any time, Bast.”
I signaled my brothers to load up on the boats. “Let’s get this show on the road, Kings.”
The Jackson brothers, Decker, Saber, and Wrath rode with me. Papa, Smoke and Blue went with Claud. Boomer, Dakota, and Wizard rode with Bastian. Leaving Brick, Doc and Nitro with Outlaw. Outlaw took the lead, and I brought up the rear. The plan was to get close, but not too close, cut the engines and drift toward the far side of the camp.
This area had half a dozen camps. The noise of a nearby air boat shouldn’t alert our prey.
