“We raise the Angus cattle and have it butchered for Manny. The auto shop next door is run by a couple club members, with others working there.” Noting the silence, he glanced over, seeing her brows knit together. “What?”
Leaning away, she folded her arms over her chest. “How many businesses do you own?”
Rubbing his jaw, Wrath considered the question. “About a dozen. Three repair shops, two bars, several restaurants, and a couple storage facilities.” All legal, he didn’t add.
It had all started out to secure Eternal Brethren’s cover. Over time, each produced a sizable profit which didn’t easily translate back into the federal coffers. Instead, they kept the substantial amounts, using it for various community projects. Give it back to the community, Admiral Grayson had told Wrath when the profits began to climb. And they did, having meetings several times a year to focus on which organizations needed their help.
“I had no idea.” Picking up her soda, Cara took a long sip. “I’m guessing your real name isn’t Wrath.”
“Nope. A nickname my brothers gave me. I’m the oldest of three boys. As we got older, they pushed my limits. Of course, I couldn’t let it go.”
“Of course not,” she deadpanned.
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Anyway, after a few bouts, they backed off. They said fighting me was like bringing down the wrath of God. It stuck. Now, it’s your turn to tell me what you do.” He placed a hand on her thigh, stroking enough to feel her squirm.
She tried to slide away, stopping when her hip butted against the wall. Resigned, she gave her standard answer. “I’m an attorney and teach at the university.”
Although Mike had told him as much, interest still sparked in his eyes. “What kind of law do you practice?”
Taking another sip, she shrugged. “In Montana, I was in a small practice specializing in family law. Custody, divorce, abuse, child and spousal support, adoption. When I married and moved to California, I worked in a corporate capacity, reviewing contracts, licensing agreements, and employment offers for key executives. Here in Arizona, I’m back to practicing family law.”
“Men, too?”
The question surprised her. “Of course. There are a decent number of women who abuse family and skip support to their exes. Mainly women who make a great deal more than the man, enough the court feels she owes the payments. Oftentimes in cases where the man is awarded complete custody.”
His face sobered at the thought of Cara in danger from irate parents who didn’t get what they wanted. “Are you ever threatened?”
She snorted. “There have been a few cases where it came close. But I love that area of the law too much to let coercion stop me.”
“Is that what you teach?”
“Mainly. It’s what I know the best and enjoy the most.”
Squeezing her thigh, Wrath got her attention. “If you’re ever threatened, stalked, or feel unsafe, call me.” His voice brooked no argument.
Quieting when Manny set plates before them, they tucked into the food, Cara doing her best to forget the imposing biker next to her. Although she wouldn’t forget the offer of help. After the meeting with her new client today, she filed the information away, hoping she didn’t need it.
Chapter Four
Wrath shifted in his chair, rubbing the back of his neck. He’d spent the past four hours trying to concentrate on the assignment he’d read the day before. It seemed clear when reviewing the mission yesterday. This morning, he couldn’t focus enough to prepare the operational plan, something he had to do within the hour. And he knew the reason. Cara.
Wrath had known taking her to supper last night was a bad idea. It had been foolish to invite her out without thinking it through, and he never did anything on a whim. Even so, he’d enjoyed talking to her, the way she blushed at some of the stupid things he’d said, getting irritated at others.
Bright and quick with an infectious smile, he’d been captivated. Her looks didn’t hurt, either. She’d worn her long blonde hair in a ponytail and applied a light touch of makeup, enough to enhance her bright blue eyes and flawless skin. In bare feet, he guessed she’d be about ten inches shorter than him. Not as tall as he normally liked. Cara was petite, not as curvy as the women who generally grabbed his attention. Still, he couldn’t stop looking at her.
The sound of a motorcycle parking in the back caught his attention, pulling his focus away from his beautiful date and back to the information in front of him. Important life and death stuff.
“Get a grip,” he grumbled. Picking up a pen, he tried again, making additional notes in the margin and underlining other sentences. This order was out of their normal zone of operation. The admiral didn’t often pass along these kinds of missions, not wanting to take time away from the jobs which triggered their creation. Still, if an agency requested their help, the admiral seldom said no.
This one had become urgent—a hunt and capture order for a known terrorist confirmed to be hiding in the mountains of eastern Arizona. An odd request, as this was standard procedure for several active SEAL teams. Still, if the admiral accepted, they’d make it happen. Picking up his phone, he called Ghost.
“I need you, Rock, Gunner, and Moses in here stat.” He didn’t wait for a response. Less than two minutes later, the four men walked in, taking seats.
“What do you have for us?” Rock asked, ready to get something started.
Wrath walked to the side wall, sliding out a map of Arizona. “We have a hunt and capture order for a confirmed terrorist hiding in the White Mountains.” He pointed to eastern Arizona.
“Target?” Gunner, one of their snipers, walked up to the map.
Wrath passed out a recent photograph. “Middle-aged man, confirmed ISIS member and leader of cells in New Mexico and Texas. Illegally in the country from Syria. He ran when one of the cells in New Mexico was raided two weeks ago.”
Rock held up the image. “Yeah, I remember this guy. A real piece of work, and ugly as one of those dang javelinas.”
Wrath slid out a map of the terrain. “This is where he was spotted two days ago.” He circled a spot not far from Bone Valley. “I received confirmation this morning he’s still there. Hiding in a rented cabin here.” He drew another circle before handing out a couple more pieces of paper. “Coordinates. Lock them in. Moses and Gunner, you’ll be going with Ghost and Rock. Helo will meet you at the usual spot at 1430 hours. Get in, do the job, and return by 0600 tomorrow morning. Take your operations gear.”
Moses cleared his throat. “Do you really think we need the kit, sir?”
Wrath cocked his head, one corner of his mouth quirking upward. “Sir?”
Grimacing, Moses shook his head. “Prez.” Sometimes even those in the Posse forgot to use club monikers.
Wrath hid a grin. “Yes, as a precaution. As always, view this as a regular team mission. Ghost, I want the usual updates. Rock and Gunner, I’ll let Fargo know you may not be at the shop tomorrow. I want to keep all the options open. Any questions?” He waited a moment, then looked at his watch. “You have two hours before the helo arrives. Good luck, gentlemen.”
Cara answered one last question before ending her late afternoon class. It had been a long day. Her feet hurt, back ached, and head pounded. She’d been an idiot to agree to a short stop at Robbie’s before Wrath took her home last night.
One drink, he’d said, which turned into two shots. At least they had been whiskey and not tequila, her drink of death. She’d sworn off it after a bad night, then again after she’d forgotten the first vow. Cara had become good friends with her toilet that night. It had been almost three years and she’d yet to even taste the nasty alcohol again.
Two shots hadn’t even fazed him. She’d always been a lightweight. One glass of wine. One margarita. One of anything was usually it for her. The extra shot had been a huge mistake. Aspirin hadn’t touched the pain, yet she’d made it through the day. Now she found herself in desperate need of a shower, hot cup of tea, and soft sheet
s.
Heading to her truck, she didn’t even give a passing thought to stopping by her office. Whatever awaited her could be postponed until tomorrow.
Unlocking her truck, she set down her files and climbed inside as her phone rang. She did not want to talk to anyone. No one would keep her away from her goal of getting home. Unfortunately, she made the mistake of looking at the caller ID.
Wrath.
Biting her lip, she straightened in her seat and answered. “Hello, Wrath.”
“You know, we should’ve taken pictures of each other last night to add to the phone numbers.”
Despite the pain in her head, she chuckled. “Why is that?”
“Because I’d much prefer looking at your smiling face than an impersonal number on my screen.”
Snorting, she pressed a finger to her throbbing temple. “After those shots last night, I can assure you I’m not smiling.”
“Next time we go out, I won’t push the shots. I called to let you know your bike is ready. Do you want us to deliver it this evening?”
She heard something about her bike, but her thoughts paused on another part of his comment. Next time we go out… Did she want that, another night out with Wrath? Surprisingly, she did.
“Cara?”
His deep voice cut into her thoughts. “Sorry. You said my bike is ready?” She heard his slight chuckle.
“Yes, it is. I asked if you wanted us to bring it by tonight.”
“Do you mind if we wait until tomorrow? If you need the money, I can give you my credit card number.”
“No, Cara. I don’t need the money tonight. Tomorrow’s fine. What time will you be home?”
“Does six o’clock work for you?”
She heard another voice in the background.
“Hold on a moment, Cara.”
Muffled voices came over the phone. Although she couldn’t make out what was said, the urgency in the conversation was clear.
“Sorry.” He let out a breath. “Six should be fine. I’ll call tomorrow and confirm.”
His mood and voice had changed, becoming more ominous.
“That’s fine.”
“Good. And, Cara?”
“Yes?”
“Dinner afterward. Plan on it.”
She stared at the phone. Wrath had hung up on her again, the same as the last time they’d spoken. If the throbbing in her head hadn’t become so persistent, she would’ve called him back and told him… Her mind blurred. Told him what?
Instead, Cara let it go. When they arrived with her bike tomorrow, she’d find an excuse to get out of dinner with him. After Greg, she didn’t need another man who took her for granted, ordered rather than asked. Or, like her late husband, probably had any number of women waiting to spend time with him. She didn’t intend to be another of those women. The days of her being a naïve fool were over.
Wrath took the admiral’s call. “Sir?”
“I have updated intel on the current mission. There are two. I repeat, two targets, not one. I’ve sent updated information. The mission parameters haven’t changed.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll update the men right away. Anything else, sir?”
“Nothing else. I expect an update with any new information. Oh, and congratulations, Commander McCord.”
Wrath felt a jolt of surprise slash through him. “Commander, sir?”
“A long overdue promotion, Caid. I trust you’ve no objection.”
Even though the admiral couldn’t see it, he gave a quick shake of his head. “No, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“No need for thanks, McCord. You deserve it.” The admiral ended the call.
Before he had time to let the promotion sink in, an encrypted message arrived from the admiral. Reviewing it, he called Ghost on a secure phone.
“Where are you?”
“At the helo pad.”
“There’s new intel, Ghost. Two targets. Your mission hasn’t changed. Information should be coming to you now.” He gave his vice president time to review the changes. “Any questions?”
“None. I’ll let the others know on the ride over.” Ghost ended the call, giving Wrath a brief moment to give a mental cheer at the admiral’s news.
Commander, a rank he’d always hoped to achieve. Although it would be in his official file, news of the promotion would go no further. He might share it with Ghost and Rock, his closest friends, and perhaps his family, but no one else. The rank meant little in a deep cover motorcycle club. What mattered was the respect and loyalty of his men, and without a doubt, Wrath had both.
Standing, he unlocked the hidden door, entering to walk down the steps to a room only the Posse knew existed. Lights automatically lit as he moved past each sensor. The ceiling and walls were well fortified, the steel doors impenetrable, and included the best communication equipment available to the military. With the exception of the communication equipment, each of the two secret escape tunnels were built the same.
“Hey, Prez. What brings you down to my dungeon?”
Chuckling at Raider’s question, he let his gaze wander over the room. He had to agree. In a way, it did feel much like a dungeon. It also provided them with intelligence and operational planning far superior to any of their enemies. He handed the file to Raider.
“A change in the current mission.”
Raider reviewed the new data. “Percentage of certainty?”
“One hundred. Ghost has the same intel. The team is in the air in…” Wrath looked at his watch. “Five minutes.”
Face sobering, Raider nodded. “I’ve got this, boss. I’ll let you know when they arrive.”
“Thanks.”
Taking the stairs two at a time, he checked the tiny peephole before opening the door to his office. Entering quickly, he pressed the hidden catch, locking the concealed door.
A knock on his door sounded a moment before his brother, Wrangler, slipped inside. “We’ve got visitors.”
Wrath lifted a brow. “Who?”
“Drago, his VP, Pacho, and sergeant-at-arms, Snake. My guess is they want to discuss what happened with the merchandise. They’re outside with Fuse, Tracker, and a few others.”
Sliding his Glock into the waistband at the small of his back, he followed Wrangler outside. His men stood in a line in front of the three Demons Blood, arms relaxed, ready to pull their weapons if needed.
Passing through them, Wrath stopped, crossing his arms. “Why are you here, Drago? I believe we agreed not to be seen together.”
He barked out a savage laugh. “Agreements are meant to be broken.”
“I’m a little slow today. Why don’t you explain what you mean?”
Drago took a step forward, causing the Brethren to tense. Voice rising, he glared at Wrath. “Our fucking merchandise didn’t reach the buyers.”
Features blank, he appeared to be bored, disinterested in Drago’s ranting. “This isn’t new information. I informed you within an hour of it being stolen.”
“If that is so, who took it?”
Wrath shrugged. “We believe it was the Night Devils.” He’d never admit to knowing it was the major rival of the Blood who attacked the Brethren and the FBI agents.
Blowing out a string of curses, Drago glanced over his shoulder at his vice president, Pacho. A silent message passed between them before Drago looked back at Wrath.
“You are certain?”
“Our best guess. Who else would dare steal a shipment they knew belonged to the Blood?”
Drago seemed to think on this, although his menacing stance didn’t ease. “Fuck. Those fools know better than to start a war with the Blood. We own this territory.”
Wrath knew the message was a warning to the Brethren as much as the Devils. “It may be the Devils want to start a war with you, Drago. If that’s the case, I’m not putting my crew at risk until it’s settled one way or another. You’ll have to do the runs yourself or form an alliance with another club who’s willing to put themselves between the Blood and the De
vils.”
An odd reddish-purple color crept up Drago’s neck and face. “We have an agreement,” he spat out.
Lifting one shoulder, Wrath cocked his head. “As you said, my friend, agreements are meant to be broken.”
Nostrils flaring, Drago’s hands flexed at his sides. Pacho and Snake readied to pull weapons on their president’s order. The tension between the two groups rose, each man preparing himself for a move from the other side.
As fast as it escalated, the tension disappeared when Drago threw back his head and laughed. “You and I, Wrath, will figure this out. It is too lucrative a business to stop now.”
Wrath’s sober expression didn’t change. He’d already come to the same conclusion as Ghost and Rock. The Demons Blood president was a psychopath, a master manipulator without remorse. The man could commit a murder, then eat a large meal a minute later, forgetting all about the brutal act. Ghost and Rock had seen it firsthand while having Drago under surveillance. People were simply tools to be used for his own benefit, nothing more.
Feigning a relaxed stance, Wrath allowed a grin to form. “The same as last time, Ghost will contact Pacho and set up another meet. No more showing up unannounced. We can’t afford to let anyone see the two clubs together. Are we agreed?”
Drago hesitated a moment before nodding. “Agreed.” He shot a look at Pacho and Snake, signaling the meeting had ended. Mounting their bikes, the Blood rode out. Not one Brethren relaxed until the men were out of sight.
Wrangler moved to stand next to Wrath. “We need to identify the original supplier from Mexico. The Feds already have enough to put the key people of the Blood in prison. They won’t act on it until we’ve reeled in the bigger fish.”
His youngest brother might not be a part of the Posse, but as a former member of DEVGRU, consisting of the most elite SEAL teams, he’d seen and experienced as much as the older men.
Wrath turned to face him. “When Ghost and Rock return, we’ll plan a meeting with our FBI contact. This shit needs to end or the entire region could get caught in a gang war, and we can’t let that happen.”
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