Jessie grabbed a pad of paper and a pen and started jotting notes. They had to secure the video equipment, make arrangements to sneak out early today so they could rendezvous with the Feds and get everything in place. Diaz put Crush in charge of making appropriate excuses for their whereabouts. Crush was going to tell people that he was leading Diaz, Spence, and Jessie on a ride to one of his favorite spots. That they would be gone for most of the day and well into the night. Before they left, weapons would have to be checked, loaded, extra ammo secured.
Jessie hoped gunfire wouldn’t be necessary, but she knew they’d all do whatever it took. They’d also have to keep an eye on Crush, because he was a civilian. If something happened to him, it would be her fault. Yes, she trusted him, but it wasn’t his job to put his neck on the line to help them reel in the bad guys.
Stupid move, Jessie. She knew better, she really did. She was going to have to stop being so eager and start taking a backseat to the mission leader in the future.
If she even had a future with the Wild Riders when this was over. She wouldn’t blame Diaz at all if he reported her to Grange.
They spent the morning playing at being low-key. They put in an appearance in the lodge restaurant, chatted and drank coffee, acted as normal as possible. Crush made a big deal about talking with Diaz about taking a ride that day, one that would lead them north for a day into Missouri and last into the night. Before long it was time to pack up and go.
It was a little after noon when they arrived at the meeting destination, more than eight hours before the survivalists and Rex’s group were scheduled to rendezvous. The Feds were already there, combing the area. They stashed and covered their bikes, making sure they couldn’t be spotted from the road. Walt met up with Diaz and they exchanged information.
“I’ve got teams clearing the area as far back as five miles, making sure no one is in the woods,” Walt said. “Weather forecast is shit for tonight, low ceiling and heavy rain possible. With all these hills and trees it’s too dangerous for choppers, so we’ll get no air support.”
Walt was tall, well built with deep blue eyes and midnight black hair closely cropped and almost hidden underneath an ATF ball cap. All his men were dressed similarly in camouflaging dark clothes.
The place was crawling with agents scurrying around, making very little noise, saying hardly anything, but everyone seemed to know what they were supposed to do and where they were supposed to be. Their vehicles were already long gone, everything happening on foot. These guys were good.
“You four can move up to the front with me,” Walt said. “You have video, so we’ll need you close to the action.”
Diaz nodded and they followed. There was only one discernible path visible from the main road and wide enough for Nate to bring the RV through. Other than that, it was dense forest all the way. Vegetation littered the forest floor, making the walking hazardous.
“This is going to suck at night,” Jessie muttered, picking her way over fallen limbs and rocks. “If we have to take off after these guys, we’re going to trip and fall on our asses.”
“By then we’ll be hitting them with lights, so that should help your footing,” Walt offered.
Yeah, it would help some, but how much? She hoped it was a full moon tonight. Then again, as she tilted her head back and looked up at the canopy of trees overhead, she realized they’d be lucky to get anything through that thick foliage.
This was going to be interesting.
They discussed the perimeter, where to set up and how. SUVs had been hidden, with drivers stashed behind the wheels, ready to block the main road and all available exits at a moment’s notice. No way could they park nearby because they’d be seen, but Walt assured them that they had vehicles at the ready and could reappear within moments. Jessie assumed they knew what they were doing.
They settled in about twenty yards behind the clearing, well hidden behind a large, mossy rock and a thick copse of trees. To the north was a cliff and a steep drop down to the river, so no chance of the survivalists coming up that way. The only way they’d have to move in was from the east and from the main road, and the ATF agents weren’t set up there. Everyone was buried in the forest, deep out of sight.
Jessie leaned against the rock and grabbed her bottle of water out of her pack. She turned to Spence, who let out a grumbling curse while settling in.
“Are you doing okay?”
He gave a quick nod and a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand. “I’ve handled worse than this, darlin’. I’m gonna be fine.”
She had no idea what was worse than being shot, and wasn’t sure she wanted to know what else Spence had been through.
Now all they had to do was wait. She looked at her watch. It was six o’clock.
They had three hours left.
Stakeouts sucked. Too much time to idle, reflect, and think. Jessie hated inactivity, much preferred doing something.
Diaz had settled in next to her. They were sitting on damp ground, leaves over them. She was starting to cramp.
The skies turned dark and a cold misty rain began to fall. Great, just great.
Jessie zipped her jacket all the way to her chin, pulling the collar up, thankful she’d remembered to put on her thick socks. It was going to be cold tonight, made even more so by the dampness in the air.
“Cold?” Diaz asked.
“Did my chattering teeth give me away?”
He laughed, pushed closer toward her. “I’d lie on top of you to keep you warm, but then I’d lose all focus on the mission.”
She snorted, then turned her head to look at him, sucking in a breath at his dark eyes studying her.
“What?” she asked.
His lips curled. “Nothing.”
Yeah, she was definitely going to have to ask Grange not to assign her cases with Diaz anymore. Her stomach clenched and she felt all warm and gooey inside. Just looking at him made her brains scramble—but at least she was warmer now. Bonus.
The hours passed slowly. They talked about the mission, and Walt helped pass the time by telling them about some other stakeouts he’d been on. Some were dicey and action packed, others complete clusterfucks, and some, like this one, were hours spent just sitting and waiting. His world was fascinating though, and he’d made some high-profile busts.
Finally she heard sounds. Engine sounds. The loud roar of pipes. It was time.
“Get into position,” Walt said, alerting his team via his comm.
They dropped down as bikes entered the clearing, engines shut off, and whispered voices echoed in the empty forest.
It was Rex and the other bikers from Crush’s gang. Diaz signaled for them all to keep hidden. Jessie checked her watch. Straight up nine o’clock. Rex was prompt, no doubt eager to get his payoff.
The RV came in a few minutes later. Nate pulled up into the camp spot and cut his engine, followed right after that by several ATVs and pickup trucks. The survivalists. For a while it was chaos, loud engines, talking. Diaz lifted his thumb, and they slowly raised up and peered around the rocks and vegetation to take a look at the action.
It was the same group from last night, only this time they’d brought a few more. About twenty men, from what Jessie could count, all heavily armed.
Jessie took the camera out of her bag.
“Let me do it,” Spence whispered. “I’ve got a clear angle here.”
She handed the camera to Spence and he started filming. The truck and ATV headlights had been left on, giving them plenty of light to see everyone.
The survivalists were an unruly-looking bunch. They wore dark hats pulled low over their eyes, sported full beards—no way to even recognize faces. All of them were dressed in hiking boots, camouflage pants and jackets, no doubt so they’d blend in with the forest, all nondescript in appearance.
And those rifles the survivalists cradled were definitely not any kind you’d buy in a gun shop. Jessie was no weapons expert, but they looked like military issue. Wherever they’d gotten them, they had to have been obtained illegally. These guys were prepared for war. A shiver skittered down her spine as she thought of the possibilities. This was serious business, and she felt ill prepared to face these people with nothing more than a forty-caliber pistol. She’d wager that Rex, Nate, and the other bikers were armed, too. She was suddenly very glad to have the ATF with them.
With the comm devices in their ears, they could pick up what was being said. The survivalists approached the RV. The man who’d done most of the talking last night—George, she thought was his name—was there again.
“Are they in here?”
Rex nodded. “There’s a false bottom built in, almost like a storage room. Guns and ammo.”
George spit out a wad of chewing tobacco. “Good.”
“You got our money?” Nate asked.
“’Course we do. We’re honest businessmen. We make a deal, we stick to the terms.” George surveyed the area. “You sure you weren’t followed?”
“I’d hardly pass the test to get into your group if I were dumb enough to be tailed.”
Rex wanted to join the survivalists?
“We’ll see how smart you are,” George said, stepping forward and crouching down in front of the RV. He crawled under, remaining there for about five minutes before reappearing, wiping his hands off. “Damn genius idea to create that false bottom. Hardly noticeable.”
Nate beamed a smile. “Thanks.”
“We could use someone with your smarts in our ranks. You interested in joining the real militia?”
Rex elbowed him, and Nate stumbled, “Uh, yeah. I mean, sure. Yes, sir. I’d be real interested in joining up.”
George nodded, spit again. “We’ll have to check you out, then. You got family?”
“Ex-wife is all. She sure as hell wouldn’t miss me if I disappeared.”
“Good enough. We’ll talk about you later. Let’s get this unloaded.”
Now the action was really beginning. Jessie wondered how long the ATF would wait before moving in. She glanced over at Walt, but he was watching intently, making no sign to move in. He had a comm device strapped to his shoulder, his rifle at the ready, but he appeared relaxed, listening. Spence was filming, getting all of this on tape, which would make great evidence when they arrested all these guys and this went to court.
The bikers and survivalists pitched in to unload the arms from under the RV into the waiting pickup trucks.
Jessie tensed, pulled her weapon, waiting for the signal so they could go in and take these guys down.
As soon as the trucks were loaded, Rex and George met up in front of one of the pickups. George pulled a duffel bag from the cab of the truck and handed it to Rex.
“Two hundred fifty thousand, like we talked about. It’s all there.”
Rex nodded and accepted the bag.
“That’s it,” Walt said, then gave the signal through his communicator. “Move in, now!”
Flash grenades detonated in the clearing, to blind the survivalists and bikers. ATF burst out from all directions, ordering everyone to freeze.
Then the sound of gunfire exploded.
Jessie blew out a breath, leaped from her hiding place, and headed out at a dead run, following Diaz’s lead.
Game on.
SEVENTEEN
DIAZ LED HIS TEAM AS CONFUSION REIGNED AROUND THEM. Gunfire rang out, so loud he could barely hear his own voice as he shouted orders.
“Stay low and grab for cover!” Diaz shouted, concerned only for his team at the moment. He snapped his gaze to Crush, satisfied that Crush had a weapon of his own. “You, stay back,” he ordered. Crush nodded and took up position behind him as they moved in behind the lead row of ATF agents.
Their job wasn’t to handle the corralling and arrests, but to provide backup. They’d done their part, but now that they were knee-deep in this melee, no way was Diaz going to stand around with his thumb up his ass and just watch it all go down. Nor was he going to put his team in the line of fire. Survivalists usually didn’t surrender, which meant there was serious danger ahead. Gunfire was everywhere, ricocheting off trees, bark flying past their heads as bullets hit nearby. Diaz was thankful the ATF had brought a damn army with them.
“Stay behind these trees. Don’t enter the clearing. We’ll go in if help is needed.”
But then the unmistakable sound of bike engines drew his attention away from the battle and toward the main road.
“Do you hear that?” Spence moved in behind Diaz.
“Yeah.”
“I think our friends are trying to make a getaway.”
“Not today, they’re not.” The ATF were engaged, their big black SUVs already having moved into the camping area to block the exit.
Diaz and his team had a much better chance of catching Rex and the others. “Head back to the bikes,” Diaz said on the run. “We’re going to have to follow them. I don’t want to lose these guys.”
They hustled back to their bikes, uncovered them, and hopped on, using the GPS unit to track Rex and his guys. They cut into the woods, taking it slow but deliberate.
Just as he figured, the bikes had waded through the forest and back out onto the main road.
Goddammit, this wasn’t going to happen. They’d worked too hard to let these guys get away. He cranked the throttle and sped up, the others tucked in right behind him. They hadn’t made it far along the road before Diaz caught sight of Rex and the others.
The rain made the narrow stretch of two-lane road even more treacherous.
Diaz caught up, moved beside them, his intent to buzz past them in order to slow them down. Rex tried to slam into him but Diaz was faster, swerving around him and hitting the brakes to move back behind him. They were careening around curves so fast Rex and the others wouldn’t be able to use their guns.