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Realistically, he should stop being distracted by MJ and pay attention to the man continuing to talk.
“The Demon’s Uniontown church is now fully up and running. And as you all know, Powers and Proctor have been sitting on it.”
When not on the task force, Ken Proctor was an officer with Uniontown PD, and Carl Powers was a trooper stationed at the Pennsylvania State Police’s Uniontown barracks. Both knew that area well. Finn hadn’t known either of them before the task force was formed, but both must have pulled the short straw to take turns sitting surveillance outside of the Demons’ church. Because he didn’t know anyone willing to volunteer to sit in a damn vehicle for long hours at a time, taking notes, video and photos while trying not to be made by the target of the surveillance.
Finn wasn’t sure if doing a boring stakeout was better or worse than stripping on stage in front of a pack of horny, unrestrained women.
Powers’ voice came through the phone sitting in the middle of the conference table. “They bought a run-down gas station. As much money as they’re raking in with drugs and whatever else, I’m not sure why they picked such a fucking hovel. Unfortunately, we can’t see much of anything, except for who’s coming and going, unless they open the three garage bay doors. Plus, the area behind it has a six-foot fence, so it limits what we can see back there, too.”
Nox, sitting across from Finn, grumbled, “It makes sense they would pick an old run-down business. They probably got it cheap and it would draw more attention if they picked a palace.”
“Turns out they may be smarter than we think,” Crew continued. “By picking such a dump, everyone, including non-suspecting law enforcement, might think the club’s still broke as fuck. If suddenly they have a shiny new clubhouse, then someone might sit up and take notice.”
Rez hooted out loud. “Jokes on them, the feds already have.”
“They bought a dump for the same reason we left the front of our church the way it is. It blends in and anyone driving by wouldn’t know that the building is occupied or by who,” Decker reminded them.
“Don’t give those assholes too much credit when it comes to their thinking skills,” Fletch’s voice came through the phone. “The ones we’ve been dealing with are pretty fucking dumb. They have the same amount of brain cells as they have teeth.”
“They might have a criminal mastermind or two amongst them but, honestly, I think the rest are doing mental gymnastics and coming in dead last in the intelligence Olympics.” Wilder’s voice also came from the speaker phone. “None of them will ever be members of Mensa.”
“They’re not hiding that it’s their clubhouse, though,” Powers spoke up. “They usually have their bikes lined up out front and they just put their logo proudly on the front of the building. They also go in and out of the front entrance wearing their colors, so they’re not hiding it’s their church, only that they’re suddenly rolling in the dough.”
Crew took it from there. “It would be ideal to get someone planted in their chapter or, at minimum, we need to bug their clubhouse since Powers and Proctor can’t stake it out long term. I’ll work on that now that they’re finally settled in at that location.”
“Agreed. Doing both would be great,” DEA agent Luis Torres said, “but if we only have one option, then planting bugs in their church should be the priority.”
“No shit,” Nox said. “But if we can find someone to go undercover, they could also plant the bugs. The problem is, who do we have that can infiltrate them and not cause suspicion?”
“Can’t be me,” Crew stated. “I come off as a badge.”
Rez wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, you’ve got that federal agent funk all over you that even an infant can smell a mile away.”
Crew ignored him. “We need someone both young enough and able to pull off being a dirtbag with ease. Preferably someone without a family because whoever does this might be out of pocket for a while, like Fletch and Wilder. Also, we have to consider that whoever goes in as a prospect will most likely be under a huge magnifying glass until they prove themselves. I can’t imagine those fuckers aren’t paranoid about letting in new recruits, especially now that they’re trafficking meth with the fucking Cosa Nostra. They might even be worried about the Russos having the same idea as we do.”
“I can’t imagine that the Russos trust the Demons and I could see them putting someone on the inside without the club knowing,” Wilder said. Out of anyone on the team, she was the most knowledgeable when it came to the Pittsburgh crime family since she had been undercover with them for about a year. “Paranoia runs high within that organization, even amongst themselves. For good reason, too. They’re always worried about being taken out, by one of their own or by someone on the outside, or even being brought up on RICO charges. While they might get respect on the inside of a federal prison, they certainly won’t get all the luxuries they’re used to.”
