“No. Take me in with you.”
She spun around and grabbed me by the collar of my shirt. “Listen to me. Because of you and your reckless behavior, Edge is in even more danger. Get the fuck out now!”
“I’ve got this,” said Shadow, opening the back door. “Come with me, Rebel. Let the agents finish this.”
What choice did I have? I got out and went with Shadow.
“You’ve been busy,” Shadow said when she climbed in the back seat with me. “Let’s see, two men down, one a federal agent, I might add. You better hope he pulls through, or that will really cost you.”
30
Edge
“We’re headed your way,” Grinder said through the earpiece. “Shadow has Rebel. She’s safe and being transported back to the ranch. What’s it look like inside? Casper said something about a raid.”
“It’s mostly over; Brecht is down. It’s complicated, but according to the Feds, he was the one who carried out the hit on Possum.”
“I didn’t copy. Repeat.”
“I’ll explain when you get in here, but you can stand down.” What neither Casper nor I realized when Brecht confronted us on our way to leave was, at that same time, the FBI had descended on the compound in a full-stop raid. Agents had stormed the place en masse, coming in from every direction. It had to have been planned for days if not weeks—
which begged the question: why hadn’t we been briefed on what was already in place within the ABT? Smoke had to have known about it.
I saw the first of our SUVs pull in from where I stood inside the main building, watching as the FBI systematically took the members of the Aryan Brotherhood of Texas into custody, charging them with illegal weapon possession along with a myriad of other things.
“Would’ve been nice for them to tell us about this. I could’ve finished my pint,” said Grinder as he and Decker got out. A few seconds later, another SUV pulled up; Rile, Jagger, and Rage exited that one, followed shortly thereafter by Casper. While my teammates surveyed the scene taking place, I walked over to the man who’d initially made contact with me, John McIntyre, code name Trapper. “Anyone named Lynch been processed yet?”
He scanned the list. “Negative.”
“Let me know if that changes.”
“It won’t. We’re through everyone.”
“You’re certain?”
When he glared at me, I walked back over to where the Invincibles team stood waiting.
“You don’t look happy.”
“We failed one of our objectives.”
Rile shook his head. “The feds confirmed Brecht killed Possum, as well as determined which members were part of the splinter group. Not that it matters.” He waved his hand. “The ABT is finished.”
He was right. One of the things I’d learned in our two days here was that the Texas organization was low on manpower as well as funds. It wasn’t just the splinter group who was unhappy with Brecht, many of the other members were equally concerned about the Texas chapter’s future.
“McIntyre said there’s no Lynch on the list of arrests.”
Rile brushed his lower lip with the tip of his index finger. “That is concerning. Could it be Rebel misheard the name?”
“Speaking of Rebel,” said Grinder, “she tried to kill Kick.”
“Bloody hell.” I scrubbed my face with my hand. “Are you serious?”
“I think he’s going to pull through.”
Something else occurred to me, and I looked at Rile. “Was he a fed?”
The man slowly nodded.