Page 99 of Sinful
Tomorrow the alliance will meet again, finalize plans, and coordinate strikes against Los Coyotes.
In a few days, Bravos will ride back to Texas.
A week, maybe two, and I'll follow once Dad's stable.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Bravos
The meeting feels different this time.
Just five men sitting around the table in the Raiders of Valhalla chapel with maps spread between us and the weight of what we're about to do pressing down like a physical thing.
Runes at the head of the table. Fenrir to his right.
Damon across from me, arms crossed, face unreadable.
And Vanir—the Raiders' tech guy—standing by a laptop connected to a projector.
"Gentlemen," Runes says. "Vanir's got something."
Vanir doesn't waste time with pleasantries.
Just pulls up satellite images on the screen.
"This is Los Coyotes' main operational hub," he says, pointer tracking across the image. "South of San Antonio. About thirty miles from Eagle Pass. Property'sregistered to a shell company, but financial records trace back to Sebastián Salazar."
The compound looks significant.
Main house, several outbuildings, what looks like a warehouse.
High fences, security cameras visible even from satellite view.
"How'd you find it?" Damon asks.
"Followed the money. Los Coyotes moves a lot of product, which means a lot of transactions. Tracked shell companies, property purchases, utility bills." Vanir pulls up another screen—spreadsheets, data I can barely follow. "Cross-referenced with cell phone data from known associates. They're not as careful as they think they are."
"How many men?" I ask.
"Thirty to forty at any given time. Could be more during high-traffic periods." Vanir clicks through more images. "They've got standard cartel security—armed guards, patrol rotations, probably some heavy weapons. But they're comfortable. Been operating out of this location for two years without interference."
"Because it's deep in Texas," Runes says. "Far from the border, far from obvious cartel territory. They think they're safe."
"They're fucking wrong," Damon says flatly.
Vanir continues his presentation.
Detailed breakdown of the compound layout, estimated security measures, best approaches for assault.
He’s thorough—I'll give him that.
"When?" Fenrir asks when Vanir finishes.
"One week," Runes says. "Gives us time to mobilize, coordinate, prepare. We hit them simultaneously—all three clubs. Cripple their operations before they know what's happening."
"Simultaneous means synchronized," I say. "Down to the minute. If one of us goes early, we tip them off."
"Agreed." Damon leans forward. "I've got contacts in the DEA. They'll look the other way for four hours. That's our window."
