“Now that the introductions have been made, did you bring the cargo?” Sin said.
Sterling nodded. He turned and faced the plane and waved to a man standing in the doorway to the cockpit. In turn the man gave a thumbs up. Everyone stared as the ass-end of the C-130 began to open.
Before the tail had completely descended, Sin could hear a rumble that warmed her heart. Under her mirrored Ray-Bans, she squinted at the late day sun as twenty-odd bikes rode off the platform. They were led by her friend, Shea.
Turning back to her men, she said, “Meet your diversion.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Frank said.
“I take it, you’ve met this diversion before,” Fletcher said, sarcasm bled through his words.
“You could say that,” Frank added.
Shea stopped next to Sin, cut his engine, smirked, and thumb-pointed back towards the plane. “Nice ride you provided for us. This weatha shua beats that crap we left in New Hamsha,” he said in a heavy New England accent.
Sterling stepped between Shea’s bike and Sin. “Now that all the cargo has been deplaned, I need to head out.”
“Thank you for all your help, Major,” she said.
Sterling pointed to her Panhead. “You owe me another spin.”
“Deal.”
Sin waited until Sterling had re-boarded the aircraft before continuing. “I appreciate you all coming,” she said. “Time isn’t on our side, so follow me to the hangar on the far side of the building. You’re a bit conspicuous sitting here in full colors.”
Behind the hangar, out of view of the guard gate, Sin dismounted her bike. Shea and his men followed her example. As soon as Fletcher and the others joined them, she began.
“The Black 6 have an advantage while they stay tucked away inside their hideout. Shea and the Outlaws motorcycle club are going to flush them out for us.”
“How?” Frank said.
“They’re going to ride onto the property and stir the pot. Kick the can, so to speak. Nothing pisses off a gang-banger more than someone other gang intruding on their turf, especially if they’re in full colors.”
“The Black 6 aren’t going to politely ask them to leave,” Fletch said.
“We’re ready for them cock-suckas,” Skull said, waving a 9-millimeter semiautomatic handgun in the air.
“We can’t have civilians, especially members of the Outlaws motorcycle gang,” Frank emphasized, “shooting up downtown West Palm Beach.”
“I agree,” Sin said. “Shea, I want you and your men to surrender all your weapons to my men.”
“You heard her,” Shea said. “Hand them ova.”
“Yeah, but—”
“No buts, Skull,” Shea said. “Just do what Sin says.”
Once her men had all of the Outlaws’ weapons, she continued. “I want every bullet removed from those guns, wiped clean and put back in. I want your prints all over the ammo.”
“Everybody take a step back and relax,” Frank said, his arms out in front like a traffic cop. He pulled Sin away from the others while they were performing the task at hand. “Sin, what the hell are you doing? I forbid you to use unauthorized personnel on this mission.” Frank said through clenched teeth.
“I’m going up against one hundred plus members of the Black 6 gang. They have my mother and I will do anything I need to in order to get her back safe. This stopped being an official mission the moment Onyx took Carmelita.”
“This stopped being an official mission long before that. Remember, Lancaster pulled your creds. You can’t lead these men, any of them while leaving a footprint.”
“You have a point.” She pointed to Fletch. “Change of plans. Wipe all ammo including your own. Wear gloves. I don’t want any prints on anything we may be forced to leave behind.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant,” Frank said. “This entire mission is insane. You’re planning on going into a highly populated area and having a gunfight with a violent street gang.”
She shoved her phone under his nose and snarled. “Look at her, Frank.” Frank glanced at the screen and back at her. “Really look at her. Study her. Imagine your wife, son, or whoever you hold dear and tell me what you would or wouldn’t do to get them back. Tell me what you would want to do to those who beat and bloodied the person closest to you.”
Frank eyed the photo until Sin pulled her phone away and repocketed it. “In or out, Frank. That’s your decision. But, either way, I’m going in. I’m doing this my way.”
Frank nodded. “It looks like all the ammo has been wiped. “We better get back before Skull starts with his twine speech.”
She patted him on the back. “We better hurry.”
A half hour later, everyone knew what they’re part was in the plan.
Sin eyed the Outlaws. “Colors off for the drive-by,” she said. “You approach the target two or three at a time, circle the taped off perimeter, and meet back at the yacht club. On my command, you approach and breach the target in full colors. You do not, I repeat, you do not draw your weapons unless you are threatened. Once the members of the Black 6 gang exit the building, my men will take it from there.” She eyed Shea and his men ending with Skull. “Is that understood?”
Receiving the response she was looking for, she took out her phone and sent Onyx the picture she took of the cash. “When and where?” she wrote. She then mounted her Harley and with a quick head-nod to Fletcher tore out of the airport and back onto Southern Boulevard, heading east.
56
Onyx grinned as he looked down at the photo on his phone once again.
He’d been staring at it for the past half hour. He had delayed sending a response, wanting the Angel to suffer as much as possible. As the sun set and darkness descended on the city, he tapped a reply. “Palm Beach County. Tomorrow. Further instructions to follow. Don’t do anything stupid or your mother will be returned in pieces,” he typed.
He joined his men in the
