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“I don’t see anything.” Niall sounds very calm for a guy who’s basically raw meat dangling over a pit filled with starving lions.
“Electric dirt bikes on their way. I’m giving them thirty seconds before they’re on you.”
“How many?”
Scout Five cuts in. “We counted ten.”
“Shit,” Niall says and there’s static. Then he adds, “All right, we’re on top of it.”
I let the radio go silent. This is what we wanted, but it’s still stressful as fuck, and I find myself stepping on the gas. Rocco looks at me with a little smirk.
“Told you it’s gonna get us all killed.”
“Shut the fuck up, please.” I blow through a stop sign and nearly sideswipe another car. The old bastard lays on his horn and flips me off, but I keep going. Niall’s a block ahead with the goods, and if there’s a fleet of electric bikes coming, that means the hit’s about to happen.
This is Matteo’s move. He’s got a solid crew of guys that ride these fast, quiet, easily maneuverable bikes through the city. They come silent, smash into their prey, take whatever they want, and are gone again in minutes. His people are fast and efficient, and this is the moment when everything might go horribly wrong.
“Niall, check in,” I call on the radio. No answer. I push the gas down further. “Niall.Niall. What’s going on?”
Still nothing. I speed down the block, and up ahead, I spot a truck stopped in the middle of the street.
It’s surrounded by men on motorcycles.
“All teams, move on,” I call over the radio as I slam on the brakes. I shove at Rocco and curse at him to get his ass moving. We pull guns and leap out of the truck as the back few bikers turn to face us.
“Hands in the fucking air,” I shout at one guy, but he doesn’t react. I’m pointing a gun at his face, but he doesn’t seem bothered at all. It’s hard to see what he’s thinking through the black-tinted facemask of his helmet, but most normal guys would’ve surrendered by now.
More cars and trucks pull down the block. Two behind are mine, and several of my guys jump out, all carrying guns, but there are four trucks up ahead that I’ve never seen before.
Softly, I hear shouting coming over the radio, but I can’t make out what they’re saying, since I left it in the car.
“This is bad,” I mutter.
“No shit,” Rocco says. I can tell he wants to run. “The fuck is going on? Why are these guys not even reacting?”
I move forward slowly, my gun remains level. Up at the truck, the door’s thrown open and Niall gets dragged out alongside Rocco’s man, a young Italian soldier named Joey Dinato. Both of them get kicked down to the ground and guns are pressed to their heads.
One of the bikers breaks off from the group and walks toward me. I stare, and for a second, I think I recognize him—but no, that’s not possible, I only know Matteo from pictures.
Until he flips up his visor and gives me a vicious, horrible grin. “Hello, Ronan, you fucking cocksucker.” Julien raises a gun andpoints it at my face. “Put down the weapon. Order your men to stand down. Or I’ll put one in poor little Niall’s skull and this’ll turn into a slaughter.”
I stare at him, heart racing into my throat. Up ahead, the other trucks that pulled down the block open up, and men I don’t know move out onto the street. I count five, eight, twelve—more men than we currently have.
At their head is Matteo Ricci. He’s wearing a cocky grin and walking with a swagger, and slowly I start to understand what just happened.
“Why did you get involved?” I ask, slowly lowering my gun.
Julien shrugs. “You pissed me off.”
“But how could you haveknown?”
“That’s my little secret, mon ami. D’accord, put down the weapons, s’il vous plait, and nobody gets a bullet to the face, good? Come on, Ronan, don’t be stupid.”
Fucking Julien. Working with Matteo. I don’t understand it, but somehow, they knew we were coming for them, and they got the drop on us. We’re on a quiet block surrounded by old warehouses and construction sites, which means there aren’t any witnesses in case this gets violent.
Which must be how they planned it.
“Stand down,” I call out and drop my gun to the ground.
