Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 128812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
I'm torn between wanting to believe the people leaving are horrible people who deserve it because it makes it easier to stomach, and knowing that Bobby and his organization have no right to be judge, jury, and executioner to anyone, if only because they're just as guilty as the people they may be ridding themselves of. Cast the first stone and all that shit.
"This is fantastic," Scott says, a hint of excitement in his voice.
Unlike Bobby, who pulled right up to the cabin last night, Scott drives slowly past a property where two big, expensive trucks are parked before continuing down the road.
Maybe Bobby did a lot of things last night as a test to see how we would handle the situation, but then again, he could have an ego so big that he thinks because he's the one in power, that he's untouchable. I don't know the man well enough yet to know for sure.
"More trucks means a bigger score," Scott says, backing the small sedan we're in between a couple of trees.
The lack of street lights this far up the mountain helps keep us hidden, but as dark as it is up here, I know better than to think we're secluded enough that others wouldn't have a clue what's going on. There are so many tiny houses up here, each of them tucked away and hidden from the road, that they have to do some serious scouting not only to find these places but also to know when the hunting cabins are going to be occupied. An empty cabin would be a waste of time. They're going after expensive guns, no doubt because they can't be traced back to the organization, expensive personal belongings, and cash these guys may be carrying on them.
Hitting an empty cabin might score them a Coleman lantern or two, and that's about it. These guys pack in and pack out most everything else because of the likelihood that their cabin could be robbed while they're away.
"Do we get keys and take the trucks?" Zayne asks, his breath forming condensation on the passenger window, with his face so close to the glass as he tries to get a better look.
"Sometimes we do," Scott says. "Those are much too new. Can't risk the GPS tracking back to us. There will be times we'll grab a vehicle, but they're usually much older."
"Not much money in chopping cars these days, huh?" Zayne asks, another attempt to get information we can use later out of the guy.
Scott is too busy typing something into his phone to answer, and the distraction allows me to look from the back seat and attempt to see what he's doing, but the bastard has one of those blackout screens on his phone, making it impossible to see what he's up to.
"Money is in the guns," I say in an effort to get the guy back on task, or at a minimum, talking and revealing secrets.
Scott scoffs once again, and the noise grates on my nerves. He almost sounds like an English bulldog sneezing or having trouble breathing.
"The guns are currency for bigger and better things," he says, tucking his phone away. "We ready to do this?"
As talkative as he’s been on the drive up here, he's more than willing to share information on hitting these hunting cabins, but also a little tight-lipped on the other workings of their activities. We can presume all day long that the bigger and better things include trafficking women, but until he says it or we witness it happening, it's not proof.
"Born ready," Zayne says as he opens the passenger side door and climbs out.
I follow suit, making sure to gently press the door closed rather than closing it like I normally would if I weren't about to commit numerous felonies.
Scott is just as quiet as he gets out of the car, taking a look around before unlocking the trunk so we can grab weapons.
He seems a little fidgety, and I notice a hint of paranoia in his eyes when the light from inside the trunk shines on his face.
"You have concerns?" I ask as I reach in for a rifle.
A handgun would probably suffice in a situation like this, but I guess they like the show of force.
"Nope," he says, reaching for his own weapon. "Bobby said you guys did great the other night, but this is my show. I take the lead, and you follow me. Got it?"
"Sounds good," Zayne says, stepping around me to pull a rifle from the trunk. "Is this the only place we're hitting tonight?"
"Only one," Scott confirms. "And that's good because I have shit to do."
We met this guy at midnight. Between meeting up at The Garage and gearing up from a room stocked with more weapons than I thought I'd ever see outside of The League's compound, it's going on half past one in the morning at this point. As the saying goes, nothing good happens after midnight; there's no telling what Scott has planned after this. Maybe we'll get lucky, and he'll invite us along so we can gather more intel and evidence on the group.