Every engine near us revved in anticipation as his motorcycle flared to life. I covered my ears briefly to keep my hearing intact, and heard a little chuckle from my chauffeur.
Always the charmer, Hunter flashed me a quick grin, and then we were off. We drove straight into the shack and roared down into the tunnel, followed by our fleet of armed bikers.
I clung to him as we shot forward in the dark, our way illuminated only by headlights. The sounds of the other engines rumbled down the tunnel around us, threatening to deafen us.
Hunter didn’t seem even remotely bothered by the ear-piercing sound. I found myself wondering how he managed to hold quiet conversations, given how unwavering he was when it came to deafening engine roars.
It was exhilarating.
It was frightening.
But I felt secure here, my hips straddling Hunter’s engine while we were backed up by a large flock of his Outlaws. His own men were mingled into the crowd, and every one of these bikers had undoubtedly killed men and performed all manners of illegal, illicit activities.
Oh god, if Daddy could see me now he’d lose his fucking shit. A knowing smile crossed my lips. Would that be before or after the inevitable heart attack?
After a few minutes of heart-pounding excitement rolling through the wide tunnel, I could finally see the exit.
Hunter double-tapped his brakes again, signaling to the crowd to begin slowing down.
The ground started to slope back up again. When we came up on the other side, it looked like our exit point was disguised as a large and completely empty water tank.
Everyone came to a slow stop as Hunter turned his bike and killed his engine. Although we could only see maybe half of the fleet, the acoustics off the rusted, metal interior of the massive tank meant his voice could travel.
Hunter made good use of that quality. He dismounted his bike, stepping in front to call out to the entire band of men.
“Outlaws and Dragons… this is the last time I address you all. Once we cross outside, we pass straight into enemy territory, and I’ll have to trust all of you to understand how to handle yourselves on cartel turf.
“Tonight, you represent your clubs for the reigning leader of the Outlaws. Show me the best of the Severed Sixteen, or the Winged Scorpions, or the Moonlight Riders, or the Twin Spears. Show me, brothers, what it means to you to be a fucking Outlaw!”
The assembled fleet all cheered out, fists and guns in the air. Hunter waited for the sounds to subside before continuing.
“All of you are under my jurisdiction tonight, and my responsibility… and I intend on sending each and every last one of you back to your club presidents with my undying gratitude. There is no dishonor in retreating. I will not speak ill of your clubs, nor will I disbar them from the Outlaws. You have answered my call of your own volition. If you mean to continue riding with me, glory and vengeance await. But if you mean to turn back, this is the fucking time to do it.”
“Never!” A biker shouted out, fist pumped into the air. The others met his conviction, shouting at the top of their lungs.
“We are brothers, all of us,” he addressed the clubs, “and tonight… tonight, we fight together. Follow my lead. When we arrive at the safe-house, our mission is to rescue every kidnapped girl we find, and put a bullet in the head of every sack of shit cartel member we find. Once we’ve cleared the place, you can fill your saddle bags with as much goddamned cash as you can carry, but make it fast. We want to be in and out before any of their friends arrive. To all who will join me… let’s show these fuckers how we do shit in Texas. BOYS, LET’S GET SOME!”
The bikers roared into a chorus of cheers, jeers, and vicious taunts as Hunter walked up to me, utilizing the quick distraction.
“We’ll be fine,” he told me, apparently sensing my apprehension. “And I might have a little surprise for you…”
“A surprise?” I shouted, the roar of engines deafening within the confines of the water tank.
“I think we might just find your cheerleaders tonight…”
“What?” His words practically blindsided me. I immediately demanded: “How?”
“According to the Desert Owl and the little rat bastard he’s keeping company, the cartel’s been having trouble selling those girls.”
“You’re fucking kidding.”
“Not at all,” he replied calmly. “I guess the national media attention made it hard to pass off their pretty little faces… Nobody wants that kind of potential heat.”
“…Then they might just be here, tonight,” I realized with a mixture of hope and disbelief. “That’s one hell of a lucky fucking break, Hunter.”
“Not as lucky as you’d think. My old friends have been getting brash. I’m banking on the hope that they’ve gotten sloppy, too…”
Could it be true? Would we find the missing cheerleaders tonight? I thought about those implications for a moment as he continued. Maybe my career didn’t have to end. If I showed back up to the lieutenant with those cheerleaders in tow they’d give me the goddamned key to the city!
But… After all I’d done out here… Did I want to go back?
This wasn’t the time to be thinking about that… It was time to ride. Hunter stepped over his bike and helped lift me onto the seat behind him. In a deafening roar, we rolled out into the desert. It was about twenty minutes later that we finally met a trail. Hunter swung us south, guiding us along the dirt road until we finally came up on a dilapidated complex in the distance. We stopped for a moment, the anticipation around us buzzing like electricity.
“What the fuck is that?” I hissed over the engine. “Is that the place?”
“Welcome to Víboras Verde,” he grimly replied. “This is where they’re basing all their ongoing operations… Right in my own fucking back yard.”
“That’s no safe house I’ve ever seen, Hunter,” I told him with mounting fear. “That’s a fortified goddamn compound… do we have enough men? Can we even fight that?”
“Well, Detective… we’re about to fucking find out,” he replied. His body tensed as he hit the accelerator, roaring us forwards.
Chapter 18
As we skidded to a stop around the side of the complex, Hunter leapt off the bike. Dragging me to the dirt with him, he hissed into my ear:
“You sure you’re ready for this?”
I nodded, pulling my Glock from my holster.
He reciprocated the nod, rising up beside me with his hand against the outer wall. He slipped me a pair of goggles and put his own on as the bikers swung out around us, kicking up a fierce cloud of dust with their arrival.
I covered my mouth and held my breath with my free hand, following his vague shape as he pressed forward along the side of the building. I could hear the others dismounting, locking, and loading as a swarm.
The cloud began to dissipate just as the moon came through the cloud cover. It shone down on the complex, and I studied it quickly at a glance.
It was a low-hung set of adobe buildings, with a small warehouse attachment. A northward tower looked to be in construction, and some unfinished and half-assembled lights were laying about atop scaffolds and on the rooftops.
Hunter was right.
If we’d waited any longer to strike this place, we’d have lost our chance to hit them hard. They were still setting up shop, but soon, this place would be a fortress.
“This is it,” he murmured, hiding behind cover near the open front entrance. I crept up to his side, flanked in my approach by at least a dozen bikers. “Fortune favors us tonight, detective. This base is one hell of a shit-show…”
“But why?” I asked quietly. “Why risk moving somewhere like this when the place is barely together?”
“No idea,” he murmured. “I can only guess that the other cartels have been pushing them forward, taking territory further South.”
Hunter nodded to the other bikers, gave a signal, and watched as they quickly checked their weapons. With everyone satisfied, he adju
sted his signal, and the team scampered out in front.
It wasn’t more than a few seconds before a few cartel gunmen with automatic weapons poured out into the open. Fanning out in a defensible formation, they strolled out and rained down gunfire as the bikers ducked behind vehicles and whatever cover they could find. Hunter and I watched from behind the cover. I was preparing to fire off a few rounds before he held up a cease-fire hand.
“No… not yet. Let’s not signal our position until they’re distracted…”
“They’re sitting ducks out there!” I hissed.
“These are the Outlaws you’re talking about,” Hunter informed me. “They can hold their own… just watch.”
The cartel formation continued fanning out, separating to cover more ground. A few of the nearer bikers, ducked behind a truck, glanced to Hunter for instruction.
He made a quick motion, earning the attention of the closest gunman. The bastard let loose some rifle fire our way, the rounds unable to penetrate the thick wall, but it gave the sequestered bikers the opening they needed.
We heard the gunman fall with an anguished shriek, and the others turned to return firepower. That pulled them away from their searches, allowing a few Outlaws to find more offensive positions along the edges… The bikers made use of the shadows, firing pot shots from the dark. Some stayed mobile, moving around when not in a line of sight, quietly creeping around to attack from a new vantage point.
The cartel fighters seemed to realize their error. They were standing directly in the moonlight and unable to see their enemies. They decided to rush the shadows, firing off a sweeping round in a wide circle.