Page 113 of Disturbed Lucidity

“Jesus fuck,” Montana groaned. “Why?”

“Saint spotted Solomon’s bike.”

“FUCK!” Montana roared, raking his hands through his hair.

Standing my ground, my phone vibrated.

Looking at the screen, I read.

Reaper: On our way.

Pocketing my phone, I simply said, “I figure you’ve got about twenty minutes to think of a way to make it right before he shows up. My advice, make it good.”

“I fucking hate California,” Montana muttered, walking away.

“Malice, tell me everything you know about Devlin Scott.”

“Already did,” the man stated angrily.

“We’re you ever able to find anything on his business associates, business dealings, anything to explain how he could gather so much support in such a short time?”

Malice frowned, shaking his head.

“He owns a BDSM club. That’s all I know.”

I fucking hated being several men down. That meant I was about to fight a fucking war at a disadvantage.

Mouth walked around, handing out comm units to everyone. Handing one to me, he clearly said, “Bravo Team is ready. Where do you want us?”

Sticking the comm in my ear, I replied, “Need more information, Mouth. If you can get me that so we’re not walking in blind, I’d really appreciate it.”

Mouth nodded, then whistled loudly, and Bravo Team scattered.

“We don’t have enough men, Luc,” Saint stated the obvious, standing next to me.

“Golden Skulls are riding.”

Saint shook his head. “They will give us the numbers, but until we know how many are inside the warehouse and the firepower they have, we’re still at a disadvantage here. We need more intel. We need someone on the inside.”

“We have men on the inside.”

The comms crackled.

I looked up as Pinball spoke, “Count was off. I got eighteen targets on the outside and twelve on the inside. Heavily armed. AKs, Glocks, M4s, a few grenades. You know, the kitchen sink.”

“Are you inside?”

Pinball chuckled. “It’s like you don’t even know me.”

Rolling my eyes, I asked, “Do you have eyes on Indigo and Hannibal?”

“Yep. Idiots are right in the middle of the warehouse getting the shit beat out of them. Hannibal looks bored, and Indigo is laughing at them.”

“Jesus Christ.” Saint smirked, shaking his head.

Even I had to admit that it was kind of funny. If these sick fuckers were trying to break my brothers, they would need bigger sticks. The military trained us all very well.

It would take something massive to break any of us.

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