Royce
The blackberry-infested, rundown Poole property spanned five acres and had been a farm in its past life. A quick check of internet satellite images had shown them that the majority of the buildings were on the east side of the property—a dilapidated barn, along a few other outbuildings, and a long, low one-story house that looked to have seen better days.
No matter how badly the four of them wanted to swoop in immediately and bring Raine and Briar back home, intel was vital. They didn’t know where the gang members might be holding the women or if they had other innocents held out there, like Tia. Where was Tia?
That’s why the FBI had wanted to tag along; the whiff of human trafficking had Adam Klay and his agents on high alert.
They’d spent about an hour at KS doing a deep dive on the Poole property, devising a plan based on what they knew before loading up Topher’s farm truck with the gear they thought they’d need.
They weren’t leaving the property without Briar and Raine.
Not that the FBI had arrived by the time Royce and the team had been ready to head out. Royce had shot Klay a text with the address but hadn’t waited for a response.
Caleb had bitched about taking Topher’s truck because his head bumped against the truck’s roof on rough road. But Royce had pointed out that if the MC had lookouts on alert, they’d be much less suspicious of a twenty-year-old truck coming down the road versus Caleb’s shiny black SUV.
“No one would pay attention to the camper van, either,” Topher pointed out, eyeing his brother, “and I doubt Caleb would hit his head in that.”
“The VW takes five minutes to get up to thirty miles an hour, and who knows if it can reach fifty,” Royce said sourly. “That’s a hard no.” Topher was just trying to release the tension, Royce knew. He couldn’t seriously think they’d drive a fifty-year-old van to rescue Raine and Briar. Could he?
After watching Caleb literally fade into the brush in front of their eyes—darkness came early this time of the year—Topher drove another mile past the property to where the road ended, right at the river. The spot was likely private property, but no one seemed to care. There was enough space for three or four cars and locals came there to throw lines in the water, hoping to catch fish, or just to park and party. Beer cans, plastic bags, and other nasty stuff like used syringes littered the area.
Luckily, with it being dark, cold, and wet, there was no one else there but them.
Royce hopped out, anxious with the need to get moving, glad he had his team at his back. Without speaking, they grabbed their gear, including the night vision binoculars Topher had insisted they add to their inventory. Royce had never imagined they’d being using them to rescue his sister and his… his Briar.
Topher took the lead, Royce fell in behind him and Bishop had their backs. Not making a sound, they broke into a jog and headed back along the road the way they came. Since the moon hadn’t risen yet, Royce hoped that would give them another advantage.
Ten minutes later, they were back at the property.
Topher gestured to the left. Royce nodded and he veered off, disappearing behind a line of poplars. He’d be taking the perimeter along with Caleb. Bishop and Royce kept moving, they would be the eyes on the house. They’d decided it was more likely that Briar and Raine were being held in the house or the barn.
A shadowy rise of cedar trees with enormous ferns underneath them provided cover while Bishop and Royce watched the house and the barn. There were eight motorcycles parked in front of the house. Damn. The minivan wasn’t in sight, but maybe they’d stashed it in the barn. Maybe it was parked behind the house where they couldn’t see it. A visual would have gone a long way to confirming their belief that Briar and Raine were inside.
“There.” Bishop pointed.
The shadowy figure of a man came around from the back of the house, paused, looked right and left, lit a cigarette, took a couple puffs, then tossed it to the dirt and ground it out before continuing his walk.
“Lookout.”
“Agreed.”
The lights in the house were all on, and occasionally Royce spotted a silhouette of a man walking past windows at the front.
He turned his focus to the barn located about thirty yards from the house. After a moment, he saw movement there too, a figure just inside the tractor-sized entry. Something about his body language told Royce he was waiting for something rather than keeping guard.
Quickly, Royce texted Topher and Caleb what they’d seen.
Two long minutes passed while they kept their attention on the house again and then the guard did another lap. Royce had just about decided to split up from Bishop and send him around the back when the ground shook underneath them and the night sky briefly lit up.
“What the fuck was that?” Bishop asked.
Royce lifted the binoculars to his eyes and slipped into the brush along the drive, Bishop staying right behind him. A big man in leathers trotted out from the barn, moving toward the explosion. The guard who’d been watching the house joined him.
Leaving the house unguarded for the moment.
“Pretty sure that was Caleb.” Caleb definitely liked his explosives.
Royce hoped it was anyway. Maybe the club leaders had decided to destroy the property for some reason, perhaps there was evidence they didn’t want to leave behind.