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All our eyes land on Salem, knowing once he strikes the deal and money is accepted, he likes to carry out and complete the job within twenty-four hours.
“Laredo, gather aerial shots of this bastard’s property. Also, find out if this guy lives alone or has a security detail. My guess is that the bastard doesn’t go anywhere without protection. Like always, we do this after the sun goes down.”
We’ve been holed up in an empty house nearby, watching Martin’s home for a few hours. While keeping vigil, we observe several vehicles come and go. The motherfucker is up to no good. I feel it in my bones.
“Tell me I’m not the only one who’s noticed the party is men only,” I remark while looking through binoculars, watching another blacked-out sedan pull into the circular driveway. A suited man steps out of the backseat.
“I don’t think this is your run-of-the-mill business party,” Salem utters, and I’m inclined to think the same.
I continue to scan the property, keeping tabs on the two security guards at the end of the driveway. I focus on the two-story house with a light gray exterior. The greenery is lush, and a perfectly manicured lawn extends all the way to the beach.
“We’ve got a large passenger van pulling up to the back of the house,” Juneau announces.
I quickly adjust my position, moving to the window where he is perched, and look through the binoculars. Two men climb from the driver and passenger seats. They start to unload women from the vehicle, then usher them inside. One of the women breaks from the single-file line and runs toward the beach.
My pulse quickens as I catch one of the men pull a gun. A single shot rings out.
“Shit.”
The air in the room gets thick. We realize what is happening. Someone needs to stop it. Without communicating, we gather our shit, check our weapons, file out of the house through the back entrance, and make our way toward Martin’s house.
Salem stops, staying hidden behind a section of tall hedges. “Laredo, take care of the two security guards.”
“On it.” Laredo separates from the rest of us.
“Baja, you and Mystic take the East side. Juneau, you’re with me.” Salem gives his instructions, then looks at me. “Take care of the big motherfucker on the beach.”
My grip tightens around my weapon, eager to send the man to his grave. Giving Salem a nod, I move away from the hedges. Keeping to the shadows along the property’s perimeter, I slowly approach the darkened beach, my senses on high alert.
As I move closer, I can make out the silhouette of a figure standing over a body. It’s the woman who tried to escape.
“You bitch!” The fucker kicks her. “Look what you made me do.” He slams his boot into her side once more. “Now you’re no good, and the boss will have my ass for your stupidity.” He puts his weapon away and shoves the woman over with his foot, so she’s on her back. Then he drops to his knees. “You’re still good enough for me.”
I make my move, coming in behind the bastard.
“First, I’ll have some fun, then I’ll kill you,” the man snarls down at the woman.
I press the tip of my gun firmly against the back of the bastard’s head. He freezes. I move around him, wanting the piece of shit to look at his deliverer of death.
“Who the fuck are you?” he snaps, no hint of fear in his voice.
“Death.” I pull the trigger.
With the man dead, I shift my attention to the woman. Kneeling, I check her for a pulse. She has one, so I scan her for a bullet wound, finding none. However, I can make out needle marks when I lift her right arm. She’s strung out on something. I can’t leave her here. Dammit. I scoop her off the sand, quickly carry her closer to the grassy lawn, and set her down. The crack of a gun discharging captures my full attention. Knowing my brothers need me, I leave the woman and rush towards the side door.
The moment I enter the home, the other guy from the van appears, his gun aimed in my direction. I pull my trigger and watch the guy stumble, his back slamming into the wall behind him. He drops his weapon, and his hands go to his throat, where blood pours from his body. He gurgles, choking on his blood.
“Move, motherfucker, and I’ll kill you,” Mystic warns from nearby.
Stepping over the dead man, I cautiously move in the direction my brother’s voice came from. I round the corner into a large living room, where I find Mystic and Laredo holding six men at gunpoint. My attention shifts to the opposite side of the room, and I take in a small stage setup. It doesn’t take a genius to put all the puzzle pieces together and realize these sons of bitches are bidders. My blood runs cold with rage. The sick fucks.
“They all need to eat a bullet,” I growl.
“Prez said to keep them alive,” Mystic says, though I can tell by the tone of his voice he’s not too happy with the order.
Laredo shoots me a look. “These men are a little too squirrelly. Help me tie the motherfuckers up.” Then he looks at Mystic. “They move, shoot ‘em.”
Mystic’s lips curl, eyeing our prey. “Let’s hope one of them makes my day.”
