Page 61 of Kilo's Edge

Fuck.Our plan was fucking bulletproof. Or so we thought. I lifted my cell to my ear. “Prez,” I said as soon as Ruck answered. “Shit’s hitting the fan. Mobilize everyone. I’m heading to you.”

“Shit. What about the women?”

“The Marshals are with them. They’ll be safe for the next couple hours.”

“Get your ass here then. I’ll make sure everyone else knows to be here.”

Shoving my phone into my pocket, I started up my bike. I was flying, taking back roads and routes I knew the local cops weren’t on as often. I avoided the highways because DPS—Arizona’s Highway Patrol—loved to pull motorcycles over. I didn’t have time to deal with them today. Not now. There was no way that someone was snooping around in the U.S. Marshals’ systems just a couple days before this all went down and itwasn’t something nefarious. Kruzman knew about Camila. What else could it be?

Fuck.

I poured on more speed, cruising through an intersection even though the light turned red just before I entered. The blare of horns let me know the other motorists saw me and didn’t appreciate my bullshit. Screw them. There wasn’t time for me to worry about traffic laws. Not when my girl’s life was on the line.

It still took too damn long to get to our compound. As much as I wanted to hide Camila away now, we needed to take the next hour or two to get our own shit squared away. Plus, Roger and Prissy weren’t expecting this. I was going to need to give them time to get their restaurant shut down for the day. I shot Roger a quick SOS text and pocketed my phone again.

Leaving my bike in the parking lot, I jogged over to the clubhouse. My grin was automatic when I saw that all my brothers were already here. They’d dropped everything for this and managed to beat me here.

Ruck approached as I came through the door. “What happened?” I explained about the security breach. Everyone was listening in. No one else was around, so Ruck must have sent the club girls who worked here home. Ruck ran a hand through his hair. It was getting too long and kept flopping in his eyes. “Are you sure this is Kruzman?”

“Who else would it be?” I asked.

“Dammit.” He pulled out his phone and walked away. “Hey, Cypher…”

“Camila and her family okay?” Overdrive asked as he walked up to me. The others were sitting around the tables, waiting for their orders.

“Yeah. They’re scared, but they’re holding up,” I told him. “I’ve got Roger and Prissy heading back to their house now. As soon as we’re done here, we’ll head over and pick the girls up.”

“Glitch is going to do some digging of his own,” Ruck said, coming back. “But we’re treating this like it’s the real thing until we hear back.” He looked around. “Everyone load the weapons into the SUVs.”

That was all it took and everyone jumped into action. We were taking armfuls of weapons and ammo out with us. There was no telling how much of his crew Kruzman was going to throw at us. Not to mention how many men his cartel connections would lend to him. We were going in with the idea that being over prepared wasn’t enough.

Once we had all the rifles, shotguns, and various other weapons loaded, I pulled my Glock out from the holster I kept it in, checked that there was a round chambered and then replaced it. I flipped my shirt over the back of my jeans to make sure it stayed hidden. I always walked around with it hot and ready to go, but fuck, if it came down to some asshole’s life or ours? I was going to make them regret coming for my old lady.

“Guns and ammo are ready,” I told Ruck as he came out with two bags.

He dropped them on the ground, unzipped one, and started tossing shit at each of us. “Once we’re staged up at Camila’s house, everyone wears theirs. They’re custom made to your own size. No arguments.”

I caught the Kevlar vest Ruck threw at my head and looked on the inside of the carrier. It was black fabric and nylon carrying the bulletproof plates in front and back. Inside was handwriting.

“Aw, you even put our blood type in there, Prez,” Overdrive said with a dramatic clutch of his heart.

Sure enough, there was O-neg written out in white marker inside my vest, along with my name, and date of birth. I had no allergies, or I knew that would be there as well. It was something we all did while in the military. That way if we were down andcouldn’t respond, anyone who found us and, hopefully, got us to medical, would know the pertinent facts about us.

Probably seemed morbid to civilians, but this was the only way we knew. The fact that Ruck had already taken care of it meant a lot. It just showed how much he cared for his men.

“Where the hell’d you get Kevlar?” Bolo asked.

“This is the good shit, too,” Flir said, giving Ruck a narrowed-eyed look. “Expensive.”

“Cypher got them for us,” he replied, ignoring Flir. “What are you doing?” he barked.

Code froze, marker in his hand. “I was just going to draw on a-”

Hype smacked him upside the head. “No markings on the outside, Kid.”

“Makes you more of a target,” Strike added.

Code sighed, but pocketed the marker again.

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