Adam quelled his embarrassment at being behind the wheel of a Prius, not that it was a bad car, but if anyone at Scarred Angels saw him he would never live it down. But the car was doing what he needed it to do, drive quietly and inconspicuously. Adam caught up quickly with Lance; the man stumbled outside and waited for his ride, a crappy old Chevy. They kept a few cars back and followed the car as it travelled down Delaware Avenue farther and farther south.

 

The cars around them thinned out and Adam allowed more room to come between him and the Chevy, following it closely with his eyes. He was all too aware of Dakota next to him, her thin frame and delicate features. He wished she were at home, tucked away safe in his bed behind a barrage of locks. She was sitting forward in her seat, craning her neck to see the car better. She had no idea the danger he was placing her in, the people she might meet on this dark night.

 

The Chevy made a left turn off the road and towards the river. Adam turned to follow it, turning off the car’s lights as he did so. He could see the taillights of the Chevy a few hundred yards in front of him stopped. Adam slowed down until he was going less than five miles. The only danger now was hearing the wheels on the road. He inched his way closer to the taillights of the Chevy, finally pulling the car to the side, hiding it behind a building.

 

Just a few more yards away were the docks with thousands of shipping containers stacked on top of each other. Everything from silk to toilet paper was stacked up beyond them. The docks were well-lit except for the places where they weren’t, the dark slits between the containers where all sorts of nasty things could happen, something Adam knew about first hand.

 

Then a low roar from behind them that grew in intensity until it was painfully loud as a phalanx of motorcycles roared past the car and over to the Chevy. Adam counted eight bikes and rolled his eyes at their tactics. They were loud and obvious, and subtlety was clearly not something the Soul Stealers understood.

 

“What do we do now?” Dakota whispered.

 

“Hand me the bag,” Adam said. Adam had stocked up before he left Scarred Angels, his gun in its holster. From a black duffel bag, he pulled out two black facemasks and a pair of binoculars. “Put this on,” he said to Dakota, “and make sure that your hair is hidden in it.” He watched as she swallowed nervously and took the mask from him, pulling it over her face and tucking her hair up into it. No one here could know who she was, or who Adam was; it would be too dangerous.

 

Adam slipped the mask over his face; breathing through his nose, he could feel the air fighting with the fabric. He quietly got out of the car, closing the door softly, and saw Dakota follow suit.

 

Hugging the brick wall of the building, Adam led the way, walking quickly and quietly towards the muffled sound of voices. From the corner of the building he could see a group of men about fifteen yards away; not that it was hard, all their lights were on, the parking lot lit up like a Christmas tree. It was shocking to Adam how bad they were at this. They had tried to kill the Kanes three times now and had failed spectacularly each time. They made dumb, rookie mistakes, shooting randomly into a house, attacking Dakota when Adam was there, luring two defenseless girls to a parking garage and waiting too long. Someone was trying to start a gang, but seemed to be doing it in the worst way possible.

 

He reached behind him and felt for Dakota’s hand, it was warm, and shaking slightly and he enveloped it with his own. He crouched low, pulling Dakota with him and quickly jogged from the building to a low cement wall under the cover of darkness. It had been a long time since Adam had been in a position like this, lurking in the shadows, advancing on his enemies, but his body was well trained and it remembered. His senses were on high alert, hearing everything, his brain quickly filtering through it, separating the sounds of the world around him birds, small animals, far away traffic, from his more immediate concerns, close vehicles, footsteps, guns being loaded. His eyes were wide open, his heart beating steady and strong. He was always aware of where Dakota was and what she was doing. Her safety came first, far before his own.

 

He looked at Dakota, making eye contact, steadying her with his gaze, before looking over the cement barrier at the people not far from them. He pulled up his binoculars and one by one checked the faces. There was Lance and two other plain-clothed guys, clearly hired by the Soul Stealers, not yet fully-fledged members. Next were the Stealers themselves, tough-looking guys in leather jackets standing with their arms crossed. There was one older man who seemed to be giving instructions to the others; they were all nodding in agreement at whatever the man was saying. Adam took his time, memorizing each face as it appeared in his views, and then he got to the scrawniest looking member and he held back a gasp. It was Tommy Riser, a man Adam knew.

 

He placed a finger over his mouth, the signal for quiet, and handed Dakota the binoculars. He watched as she carefully surveyed the crowd and then ducked back down, giving him the binoculars back. She shrugged and shook her head, telling him she didn’t know anyone. But Adam wasn’t worried; he knew what to do. He jerked his head to the right and started back to the car, opening and closing the doors silently.

 

“I don’t know who any of those people are,” Dakota said from behind her mask.

 

“I do, and I have plan,” Adam said. He started the car, leaving the lights off and slowly and carefully left the docks behind. Once they were back on the main street he removed his mask and Dakota did the same, carefully putting them back in the black canvas bag.

 

Adam called Joey and waited impatiently as the phone rang.

 

“What’s the word boss?” Joey asked.

 

“You remember Tommy Riser?” Adam asked.

 

“That tweaker? Last I heard he was in jail.”

 

“Well, I just saw him by the docks. He’s out and I need to speak with him privately. Anyone know where he’s staying?”

 

“I can find out. I’ll text it to you.”

 

“Good, and up the protection on John Kane. I want eyes on him twenty-four seven. Something’s up, don't’ know yet, but should know soon.”

 

“Copy. He’s set to be released tomorrow morning. We still good on that?”

 

“Yeah, send two guys to triple check the house and make sure everything is clean.”

 

“It’s done, and I’ll text you that address. Won’t take me long to find out.”

 

Adam hung up the phone and continued to drive north, waiting for the address from Joey.

 

“Are you going to fill me in?” Dakota asked.

 

“One of those guys on the docks was Tommy Riser. He used to work for Scarred Angels, was trying to become a full time member. But then he got into meth and couldn’t get back out. We caught him pimping out his girlfriend who was a sister to a full member. It got bad, the guy almost killed Tommy, but we stopped it. We put the sister into rehab and kicked Tommy out. Last I heard he had been arrested for robbing a corner store, but clearly he’s out now.”

 

“And working for the Soul Stealers?” Dakota asked.

 

“Clearly,” Adam said as his phone buzzed, he glanced down at it and saw an address not far from where they were. “I think I should drop you off at home for this next part.”

 

“No!” Dakota interrupted him. “This is my life and my father’s life. I’m not going to sit at home and hope that nothing happens. I can do this. I can help you.”

 

“Fine, but you do what I say, no questions, no hesitations.”

 

“Agreed,” Dakota said.