Light from an almost full moon bounces off of our cuts as we take care of one item before our meetings with Giovanni and the Padrino. We’ve all had some rest, taking the day to plan. Now, a few hours remain before I return Sabrina to Giovanni.

I’m in the middle of a war I didn’t start.

But I’m ready to finish it.

Standing beside the Ford F150 Axe drove, I look out at the curved, uneven arroyo a short distance away from Los Diablos’ clubhouse. The tarp that’s covering the truck bed has everyone curious. I can’t wait to do the unveiling, thanks to Axe. It may be the craziest thing I’ve done ever. My lips pinch into a smile as I raise a hand to get their attention.

“You all know my style so I’ll keep this short. We’ve been through a lot over the last few days. Every day it’s getting harder to know who’s gone from allies to rival to enemies. We’ve been dragged into the middle of something big, and tonight, we’ll take the first step to dig ourselves the fuck out. That step? Send a message to every son of a bitch who thinks they can fuck with us.” Pulling the tarp off the back, I make contact with each and every face looking at me for leadership. “Gear up, men. We’re taking the fight to them.”

Tate is the first one to reach into the truck cab. He notices the rocket launcher and smiles, raising it up to his shoulder. “I’ll keep them busy with this,” he tells everyone, shoving a cartridge into each of his oversized camo pants pockets. As the others choose their weapons, he comes over to my side.

“I’m game for any and all forms of violence, but tell me something, Pres. We know Giovanni’s behind all this shit that’s gone down. Why aren’t we just going after him?”

“Before we straighten him out, his hired guns need a reminder, something to help them think twice before they look to accept another job that involves fucking with our club.”

“What about Rizzo?”

“Rizzo’s the reason we can’t touch Giovanni yet.”

“How about less talking and more observing?” Axe says from the other side of the truck bed. His eyes squint into the dim light around our hideout in the deep crevice. “We’ve got a job to do.”

“Listen to your Sergeant at Arms,” I tell Tate. “All you need to understand right now is that what we’re about to do tonight will give us an advantage for the meeting with Rizzo. All right. Follow my lead, men,” I call out. “Show your weapons, but don’t use any of them unless I tell you. You know what to do, Dean.”

I lead everyone closer to the Los Diablos’ clubhouse on foot. Dean heads off to take care of his assigned task. This trip won’t be as messy as the last one. We have firepower as backup. The main plan is to throw them off-balance first. After that, we’ll disable their defenses, and that’ll crush them fast. It’s the only way to be in and out within the hour.

Once we’re all in position, I signal to Dean with a quick text message. Less than a minute later, all the power to Los Diablos’ compound shuts off. As predicted, the task of restoring power draws a wave of them outside. And as I suspected, there are Mongols MC members among them.

I don’t mind. Two for one works for me.

Reaching into my pocket, I hit send on my phone a second time and Dean launches a series of flashbangs into windows at the back of the building. More of them come out through every available exit, stunned, coughing and disoriented.

And most of them are unarmed.

Cole takes the lead on manning the exits and keeping everyone in line. Not one weapon is discharged so far, so I head out back to meet Dean. I’m halfway there when he sends me an unexpected message. He found something.

The only thing I’m looking to find out here is Antonio Vasquez on his knees, pleading for mercy and giving his word that Los Diablos MC is ready to fall in line again. The icing on the cake would be for Dean Romans’ Mongols to do the fucking same.

“How are you making out?” I say to Dean, who’s waiting at the door of a shed behind a large water tank. shouted.

“I thought I heard someone in that shed. It might be a hideout for Vasquez. Somewhere he lays low for times like these.”

“Could be. I’ll go in. Back me up.” I find my way to the front of the shed, which faces away from the back of the compound, strangely enough. By the time I make it to the door, I’m sure this is no hideout.

It’s more like a makeshift holding cell. The reinforced concrete foundation and heavy locks and bolts confirm it. It’s built so that what’s inside can’t get out. Using my handgun to blow off the locks, I open the door. The stench is so unbearable I don’t want to step inside. But now that I’m here, I have to see what these fuckers are up to.

When my eyes adjust to the darkness, I see him.

They’re holding someone in here. The man is on the floor, wrists and ankles bound with heavy ropes connected to a reinforced iron ring in the center of the room. He looks hungry and weak, like they left him out here to rot. It’s too dark to recognize his face, but I’m ready to break him out just to free him from these deplorable conditions. I also make one main assumption. If Los Diablos members are doing contract jobs for Giovanni, this prisoner is my ally.

Using my pocket knife, I cut him out of his rope bindings and help him to his feet.

“What’s your name and why are these people holding you here?”

“It’s Bain. We need to leave now,” he says weakly. “They can come back anytime. Please, let’s go.”

The guy can barely walk. I throw him over my shoulder with little to no effort because they probably haven’t fed him for days. Dean watches my six until I help Bain close to our staging area near the arroyo.

“Get him some water and stay with him,” I tell Dean as we arrive at the truck. Cole then sends me an update that everyone’s evacuated the buildings. When we first got here, I had every intention of ordering Tate to point that rocket launcher at Los Diablos’ clubhouse and leveling it to the ground. Vasquez is lucky that I have some compassion. I spare them the massive cleanup, and order Dean to let Tate do the honors on the shed we just got Bain out of. We manage to get out of there without causing a single injury, freed a prisoner, and sent Vasquez an important reminder.

Satan’s Saints MC has the smarts and the means bring the fire to Los Diablos any fucking time we want.

On our way back to our clubhouse, my phone rings. It’s a call from the Mongols MC President.

“Dean Roman,” I mutter into the phone. “I hear that you’re allies-for-hire now?”

“You know how this works, Corrigan. Every club has a price,” he drawls.

“Well, keep in mind how much you can lose because of me, not just what you’ll gain from siding with Giovanni.”

“We don’t scare that easy,” he replies.

“I want to hear you say that next time. There won’t be a warning like tonight. People might get hurt.”

“This isn’t over.”

“It is for now, you shady fuck.”

He must hear my message loud and clear. Roman puts me on hold for a minute, and when he returns to my call, his tone is different. “Look, I talked to Vasquez. Are you agreeable to a twenty-four-hour cease-fire as of right now?”

I smile. This is exactly what I wanted. “I can be convinced. Only because we want you to use the time to see that you’re on the wrong fucking side of this.”

Ending the call, I drive the rest of the way to our clubhouse. There’s still the item of figuring out who this Bain guy is before we head out to the first meeting.

Tate is leaning outside Axe’s pickup truck as I head through the parking lot. “Who the fuck is this guy?” he asks me.

“Help clean him up. He’s probably hungry too. We’ll find out soon enough. Don’t let him inside the club. No more outsiders.”