Page 42 of Rio's Release

“Tonight, Zig. Means we make our move tonight. We’ll start with the sheriff and work our way down from there. By morning, this town is going to be in our hip pocket.”

“You say so,” he mutters.

“We got a fucking choice?” I snarl, throwing my hand toward the direction the bikes went.

“All in one night?” he questions.

“It’s got to be. We’ve got to get them all on board. They’ve got to know they have no options.” I drop my cigarette and grind it under my boot. “Let’s get to the clubhouse. I want to go over everything we’ve got on them. There can be no fuckups tonight.”

We lock up the garage and head back.

We’re not there long before I get a call from Bagger and put it on speaker for everyone to hear. We’re gathered around at the bar, and everyone leans closer.

“They headed out of town and kept going, Prez. All the way to the border.”

“El Paso?” I snap.

“Yep.”

“Did you see them cross into Juarez?”

“They pulled over and took their colors off a few miles before they got there, then split up. We lost them in El Paso.”

“Are you shitting me?”

“Sorry, Prez.”

“Get your asses back here. We’ve got a job to do,” I growl and toss my phone on the bar top. “Son of a bitch.” I look over at Zig. “Who do you know in the Devil Kings?”

“This side of the country? I know Big Ed used to run things, and he had a mean son-of-a-bitch named Taz who did all his dirty work, but I heard he disappeared years ago. Probably dead. Why?”

“You think Big Ed still runs things?”

“He’d be close to seventy by now, but it's possible,” Zig replies. “Shouldn’t be too hard to find out.”

“We’ve got shit to do tonight, but tomorrow I need you to get on that.”

“You got it.” He lifts his chin to a big map of Las Cruces tacked up to the clubhouse wall. “I marked off the locations of the Sheriff’s house, his deputies’ homes, and the District Attorney.”

We move to the wall and study the map.

Zig taps a spot. “If you want to start with the sheriff, this is his place. He doesn’t work nights. Leaves that to his deputies and patrol officers.” He taps another spot. “This is the DA’s house; he sometimes works late.”

“If we have to wait for him, we’ll wait.”

“Maybe leaving him to last is a good thing, then.”

“Tonight’s perfect for this. The sheriff’s wife will be at bible study from six to eight. He’ll be all alone,” Zig informs me.

I nod. “Good. And we catch the deputies on the job alone somewhere. What about the DA? His wife?”

“She goes to her sister’s house across town for book club.”

“Perfect,” I whisper.

Once darkness falls and Bagger and Blue make it back from El Paso, we pull out and head across town. We’re in two pickup trucks and wearing black hoodies. Once this night is over, we’ll never have to do this bullshit incognito crap again.

The sheriff’s neighborhood is quiet when we coast to a stop.

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