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James decided to separate the shipment in two and send them on different routes with plenty of cover. There would be three men in each truck, plus four supporting cars per caravan. Excessive, maybe, but he didn’t want to leave hundreds of millions of dollars worth of weapons vulnerable to an attack.
Over the course of the last week, they strategically leaked multiple dates for the caravans, and the chatter Brogan monitored hadn’t raised any alarm bells. They didn’t have as many ears to the ground in New York, but that was changing. Declan had already been approached by bosses in other boroughs looking to make a deal. New York was going to turn out to be a very profitable investment.
The warehouse where they were loading the first shipment was buzzing with activity when James arrived. He’d chosen the men for each team with careful precision, and Declan had approved his choices for those who would remain behind in New York and oversee operations for at least six months before they reevaluated.
He checked the inventory against the list someone handed him while it was loaded into a moving van. There was no room for error today. Errors making this transfer had the potential to get someone killed or cost the syndicate millions. He didn’t intend to be responsible for either one.
When his phone rang, he dug it out of his pocket. Aidan.
“Hey. Everything good?”
“Yeah,” Aidan assured him. “No problems on our end. Chatter’s quiet. We still on schedule?”
“We are. Last few crates for shipment number one are being loaded, then I’ll do a briefing and send this group on their way. On time if not early.”
“Perfect. I’m keeping Declan updated. We’re still a green light.”
“Great.” James stepped out of the way as the last stack of crates was moved into the truck. “I’ll call with another update once they’re off. Let me know if anything changes.”
Disconnecting the call, James shoved the phone back in his pocket and reconciled the last of the inventory. Once it was all loaded and the door secure, he waited for the men to gather and quiet before speaking.
“You’re the first group, and you’ll be taking route A to the warehouse. I’ve programmed two alternative routes in case shit goes down, but the word from Aidan is everything is quiet. Your orders are to drive straight to the warehouse in Queens—no stops—unload, and guard the place in shifts until the second shipment arrives later tonight. My father will oversee your arrival.”
He shuffled the papers in his hands. “Car assignments. Three men in the truck, four men in each car. Two cars in front, two cars in back. The closer you get to New York, the less certain our position is. We’ll keep the lead car updated, and it’ll be your responsibility to update everyone else on your team. Questions?”
When no one spoke, he nodded. “Good. Let’s roll out ahead of schedule, then.”
He stood in the mouth of the warehouse’s loading bay doors and watched them pull out of the gravel lot. Anticipation and nerves twisted in his gut, but he’d done all he could to make sure today was a success. Once the second load was gone, all he could really do was monitor from home base.
Roughly half of each team would stay behind in New York to establish a base presence there, with the entire operation overseen by Sean, who seemed more than happy to get out of Philadelphia. James had never been close with his father; the physical distance hadn’t changed much. Sean still talked with Declan more than he did with his own son.
And as much as James might want to, he couldn’t go with them anyway. Someone had to stay and take care of the business in Philly. He had four deliveries on the schedule this week alone. More product arriving next week for a new client Aidan landed the week before. Crime never slept.
Closing up this warehouse and locking it down tight, he drove to the next one. This one was just as active. The second team was scheduled to leave at the same time the first team made their initial hourly check-in.
“The rest of our guys get off okay?” Liam O’Sullivan hefted a box and slid it into the back of the truck while James scanned his supply list.
“Yeah. Ahead of schedule. No issues reported so far.”
“My brother said the training sessions are going well.” James’s eyebrows shot up, and Liam shrugged. “We had a beer the other night.”
Holt and Liam were at odds about nearly everything, including allowing women in the syndicate ranks. Listen to Holt tell it, and Liam sided with their father on everything simply to gain favor and hope to be named heir to the O’Sullivan line over his older brother.
The O’Sullivans preferred to choose an heir from each generation rather than it naturally falling to the first-born son. It made the competition between brothers more than a little cutthroat.
“I didn’t realize you and Holt were on better terms since your last fight.”
“It probably helps that I’ll be staying behind in New York for a few weeks. He’ll have time to work Pop onto his side.”
James snorted. “You know Holt has only ever viewed taking over as head of the family as a duty. You're the one who sees it as a prize to be won.”
Liam’s jaw clenched. “That’s because it is. It always has been.”
“Maybe,” James agreed. “But you're the one who chose to ruin your relationship with your brother over it.”
The men finished loading the last of the crates into the back of the truck and checked their own personal weapons. James tried to keep the shipments as even as possible, but this one had some bigger guns along with ammo because it was pre-sold to one of Sean’s contacts. They’d officially close the deal in a couple of days, which meant this shipment arriving safely was critical.
Triple-checking inventory, monitoring the loading, and checking in with Aidan and Brogan for updates kept him busy until the sun fell behind the trees rimming the property and the air chilled. They needed to pick up the pace if they wanted to stay on time.
