Page 67 of Victorious: Part 2
“High enough that when we started getting too close, we didn’t just lose our jobs, we started getting death threats,” Lukereplies.
I let out a frustrated laugh. “Are we talking political level here… like Governor Marshall and Senator Wilson?”
Luke and Logan look at each other and chuckle, shaking their heads in unison. “You guys really are on this ride with us. Yeah,exactlythe fucking assholes who were breathing down our necks,” Logan states.
“So you went into hiding,” I conclude.
“We were forced underground,” Logan corrects. “But we kept all our documentation.” He moves to a closet and pulls out several boxes of files. “Months of reports, photographs, financial records, communication logs. Everything we gathered before they shut us down.”
I’m already thinking through the implications, but Montana finally speaks up, “Show me more,” he says quietly.
“Montana—” Alpha starts.
“Show me everything you have on Rhonda,” Montana states, his voice deadly calm.
Luke hesitates, but Logan begins to pull out additional files. Photographs of Rhonda meeting with Cartel operatives. Records of inmates being transferred at her request. Communication logs showing her coordinating with corrupt officials in other facilities.
Montana studies each piece of evidence methodically, and it’s clear he’s building a mental picture of just how thoroughly we’ve all been played. “My mother’s been in that place for years,” he says finally. “And this whole time, the person I thought was protecting her was actually—”
“Controlling her,” Logan finishes. “Making sure she stayed in line and didn’t interfere with their operations.”
Montana stands abruptly, and Alpha tenses, ready to intervene if necessary.
“I need some air,” Montana huffs, heading toward the balconydoor.
“Montana, don’t—” Alpha warns.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Montana interrupts without turning around. “I need a minute to process the fact that I’ve been fucking played.”
Alpha nods and lets him go, but he’s clearly keeping Montana in his peripheral vision.
Rip whistles low. “Dudes, that’s like, a massive collection of evidence.”
“Evidence that nobody wants to see,” Logan says grimly.
I tilt my head, folding my arms across my chest. “What if somebody did want to see it? Somebody with the resources toactuallydo something about it?”
“Like who?” Luke asks.
Alpha leans forward. “Like a motorcycle club that’s been directly targeted by this Cartel operation. A club that has people inside those prisons who are in immediate danger.”
The twins go quiet, processing this information.
“We’re talking about stopping something that’s already killed innocent people and is about to kill more,” Alpha replies. “The question is…” he pauses and looks directly at them, “… areyouwilling to help us?”
Luke glances at his brother, then back at us. “What would you need?”
I speak up, “Everything you’ve got. Plus, your knowledge of how the system works… security protocols, guard rotations, communication networks. We need to know how they’re coordinating and howwecan disrupt it.”
“And in return?”
“Justice,” Alpha says simply. “For everyone they’ve hurt and everyone they’re planning to hurt.”
Another long look between the twins. It seems to be their unspoken language.
“Show us whatyou’vegot so far, and wemighthave a deal,” Luke says finally.
I pull out my laptop and start showing them everything I’ve compiled. The payment trails, the communication intercepts, the surveillance footage gaps. As I walk them through each piece of evidence, their expressions grow darker.
