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After a few moments, the big scarred man would give them the hand signal to move forward again.
The Shadows were dressed in all-black tactical gear, wore camo face paint, had some wicked looking military-grade rifles strapped across their backs and were armed to the teeth.
The Fury were also dressed in dark clothes, all had knives on their hips or strapped to their calves and carried the weapons they’d pilfered from the Shirleys. Judge had decided it was best that no one carry their own personal gun. That way there was no risk of it getting left behind. And, more importantly, no risk for it to be on their person once they cleared the mountain in case they ran into five-o.
To keep on top of the pigs, Jet, now reluctantly in on the details, went to the station to “visit” with her brother, Adam, and her cousin-in-law Leah Bryson, both who happened to be working second shift. The timing of the explosion was about halfway through their shift and by being there she’d hear any call come in so she could warn Rook if it happened to be about the area around the mountain.
No doubt calls would come in since they expected the blasts to rock the whole area, but they hoped to be clear by the time that happened.
Trip and Judge tried to have all bases covered. While they didn’t want to do it this early since darkness had only blanketed the mountain, they had no choice since the party was scheduled to start at nine. Any later than that might raise suspicions.
The women were heading over early to help set up the bar for the party. They were told to remain there where Dozer and Woody would watch over them.
At the edge of the main clearing, the group would go their separate ways and break off into teams of two. The Shadows targeting the ten men. The Fury targeting the six women and thirteen children.
If any of Whip’s brothers ran across a male Shirley that a Shadow had not gotten to yet, they were told to take them down—preferably in a quiet manner, like slicing a throat or strangulation—and drag them into the closest building.
Whip had no idea how the Shadows set up the explosives to make it look like an accident, but, hey, he wasn’t the pro and they were. That was why they were earning the big bucks. He didn’t need to know the exact details since he hoped like fuck they’d never have to do anything like this again.
Castle remained hidden at the bottom of the mountain as lookout. Once they were done and the clan was all secured, he and Scar were taking the van full of women and children to Ohio. The prospects were instructed not to stop once they left the mountain until they reached their destination. They were also warned to obey every damn traffic law along the way so they wouldn’t get pulled over.
If they got pulled over, shit would go sideways.
Mercy stopped the group again just before the edge of the main clearing. Lights were on in the biggest house in the compound, the one where Vernon Shirley, all his wives and his kids used to live.
Whip had no fucking clue who lived there now or even who was their current cult leader. He also didn’t fucking care. After tonight, if everything went as planned, it wouldn’t matter.
If everything went as planned. It had to go as planned. If not, they were fucked in more ways than one.
Mercy glanced over his shoulder toward Trip and gave him a chin lift. The prez returned the signal. The Shadow raised his hand high enough for everyone to see it and tapped his watch.
Stay on schedule. Right. That gave them about forty-five minutes to find everyone, get the women and children to the main clearing and loaded in the van. They’d have fifteen minutes to spare to get the fuck out of Dodge before the whole Shirley compound went boom.
The problem with going up the mountain this early was the clan would still be awake and possibly moving about doing whatever inbred hillbillies did at night.
Most likely breeding a new wannabe army.
If they were, it would make it easier to sneak up on them with their pants down around their ankles. They could be dead before their next hip thrust.
Since he’d been paired up with Cage, Whip turned to him and whispered, “You ready?”
“Ready as I’m gonna be,” Cage answered under his breath.
The Shadows, along with Trip, disappeared into the dark first. Then like Noah’s fucking Ark, two by two his brothers headed out.
“Let’s go,” Cage murmured, nudging Whip in the ribs with his elbow.
After checking for the hundredth time to make sure his knife was still where it should be—sheathed on his belt—and the pistol he had snagged from the pile in the garage was still securely tucked in his waistband at the small of his back, he followed his older club brother and coworker through the woods, keeping to the outside perimeter of the main clearing.
