Page 163 of Beyond the Badge: Crew

“We’re not simpering females who collapse with the vapors when we’re challenged,” Cami stated.

Finn snorted. “The vapors?”

“Try Google,” Cami suggested. “It’s a search engine found on the internet. It’s like a Magic 8 Ball. You ask it a question and it gives you an answer.”

“Damn.” Wilder laughed. “I’ll have to remember that one.”

“Okay,” Crew started, “do you have anything to share, Fletch, on your end, now that you’ve been with the Demons for a few weeks? Wilder, feel free to add anything since I know you’ve been working on getting the ol’ ladies to trust you.”

“Working is right,” Wilder answered before her partner could. “They are tight-lipped. Either because they’re protective of their club or they truly don’t know shit.”

“Technically, the members aren’t supposed to share club business with their women,” Decker said. “So, it would be no surprise if they were truly clueless on what those fuckwads are doing.”

“It’s pretty easy to figure it out,” Fletch began. “What they’re doing is expanding their drug business. That said, they haven’t completely cut out the Russos yet, but they’re heading in that direction. From what I’ve overheard, they’ve made a deal with the cartel to buy extra kilos every time they head down to the border for the Russos. Of course, they’re keeping that from La Cosa Nostra. I think they want to build their enterprise as much as possible before they completely cut them out. They believe the more money they make and the more they expand their territory, it’ll make them invincible.”

Wilder picked up from there. “They couldn’t be more wrong. First of all, I doubt the Russos give a shit about them expanding their territory as long as the Demons don’t step on their toes by moving into Pittsburgh itself. However, the other MCs in that surrounding area, like the Angels and the Knights, will. But the Russoswillcare that they’re buying extra kilos because that could mean less sales to their own street dealers.”

“If the Demons keep going the direction they are, they’re going to have more than one enemy,” Nox murmured.

“They’ll have a minimum of three, depending on how far they try to push it,” Crew surmised. “Only out of those three, who will crush those assholes first?”

“Don’t forget us,” Finn reminded him. “You’re only considering the MCs and the Mafia. We’re also breathing down their neck.”

“Right,” Crew agreed, “we’re the only ones who know every damn thing they’re up to. Of course, the Dirty Angels have an idea—which is why they let Fletch and Wilder go under with them—but they don’t know all the details. And we don’t want them to.”

Fletch spoke next. “Right now the Russos have no clue that they’re being cut out, but they’ll discover it before long. How soon can we get indictments rolling and at least take the biggest players into custody before the shit hits the fan?”

“Depends how fast the Russos find out they’re getting fucked.” That might not be a good answer but it was the only one Crew had. “And you know what it takes to get indictments.”

It wasn’t like filling out a simple form. It was a complex legal process.

“That’s what I figured. Then we need to prepare and do what we can to minimize the mess. Because when it happens, my gut instinct is screaming that no one will be safe from the splatter.”

Fletch’s gut instinct was solid in that respect. Crew feared the same results.

“Another problem is, once the indictments come down, we need to round up everyone in one shot and when they’re least expecting it. But we also need the charges to stick so our evidence has to be rock solid,” Crew reminded them. That evidence also needed to be rock solid for the grand jury to indict in the first place. But all of them in that room and on the other end of that phone already knew that.

“Brother, we have transcripts and video. Plus, first-hand knowledge,” Decker told him. “We have enough right now to put away their major players.”

“And that’s all well and good, but I’d like to cast a wider net. And I’m not the only one, if you catch my meaning.” His higher-ups wanted to put away as many as possible. They wanted to make a major dent in the meth trafficking business. “We don’t want many, if any, of the Demons left free. They’ll only need a handful to continue doing what they’re doing and to start rebuilding their club again. It’s like cutting off a weed at the ground. It’ll grow back. Dig out the fucking root, and it’s gone forever.”

“Or spray it with goddamn Round-Up,” Nox suggested.

Wilder’s voice could be heard through the phone. “We have our own version of Round-Up. It’s called an early morning sweep like the FBI did with New York’s five biggest crime families back in 2011. Not sure if any of you remember that, but they used eight hundred agents and law enforcement officers to haul in a shitload of members from the Bonanno, Colombo, Gambino, Genovese and Luchese families. In one shot, they snagged the small fish to the big whales in one hell of a net. It was a huge and impressive coordinated effort.”

“You actually remember that, Wilder?” Torres asked, surprised.

“No, but I studied that case and some others to prepare me for going undercover with the Russos.”

“My woman’s a badass,” Fletch bragged.

“So is mine,” Decker said.

“And mine,” added Rez.

“Don’t forget mine,” Finn said next.

Decker smirked at Crew. “Crew? Got anything to say on that point?”

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