Go Time

Director Frank Grimes’ POV

Los Angeles

I started waking people up as soon as Chase left my house.

I was feeding papers into the scanner as I was on the phone with the DEA Director in Washington, DC. He agreed that we needed to strike fast; there were men from five other chapters caught up in the Oakland raid, and that was enough for him. We had been maintaining surveillance on each of the Clubhouses, and plans had already been made for how to take them down if needed.

Go time for coordinated raids was 0600. Across the Southwestern United States, Supervisors were frantically paging their Agents to come in immediately. Most had just enough time to gear up before the vehicles were moving out.

The Los Angeles Division had its own SWAT team, and they coordinated with the Los Angeles County SWAT. By five in the morning, I had a copy of a Federal warrant authorizing raids on all US chapters of the Sons of Tezcatlipoca. All this was courtesy of Chase Nygaard, who had provided the information on the Oakland smuggling operation, and the banking information which was quickly validated by our financial investigators.

I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to him. “GO TIME 0600,” I said. Putting it away, I went to my car and pulled out my gear from the trunk. The bulletproof vest fitted over my white shirt and tie, and my badge slid into the holder on the breast of it. Getting in, I drove to the rally point for the raid, a parking lot two miles from the target.

The SWAT vans were already in place, the men gathered around a table behind one of them. They were looking at the satellite images of the outside of the Clubhouse, as well as the building plans the City had on file. “Good morning, Sir,” said Doug Baldwin, the Senior Agent in Charge of the DEA SWAT team. “You know Lieutenant Jackson of LAPD?”

“Good to see you again, Rufus,” I said as I shook his hand. “We ready?”

“Almost. There are still a few people on their way,” the big man said. “You should give us more warning next time.”

“The raid in Oakland worked out better than we hoped, and we were able to get a warrant for the whole Club just now.” I put a copy of the warrant on the table. “We arrest everyone in the Clubhouse on the raid. Anyone we don’t catch for something else we kick later if they aren’t members.”

“How many people do we expect in, Director?”

“We don’t know. Since we started surveillance, we haven’t seen a lot of activity in or out. We could have anywhere from a dozen to fifty people.” The SWAT teams and agents I was calling in would give us about three dozen officers for the entry team, with another dozen snipers, and command personnel.

Rufus pointed at the front gate. “We’re going to hit them with tear gas and smoke through the windows, then flash-bangs for the entry teams. Nothing fancy, we’re using our entry vehicle in the front, and tactical teams will close from the other three sides. We use the speakers to announce the raid, and they are all under arrest.” The big armored vehicle was a modified military Armored Personnel Carrier and would smash through the gate before the teams would deploy from inside and behind it.

We were bringing a shit-ton of firepower along, much of it military-grade. “The raid in Oakland was successful but met with more resistance than we expected. The FBI team killed two-thirds of the people in that warehouse because they refused to surrender. They have armed men on the roof and in the parking lot. DO NOT underestimate them, they don’t give up, and they don’t hesitate to shoot back. Rules of engagement for high-risk warrants apply. Once the warning is given, if they threaten you or another officer, put them down.”

“We won’t take them lightly, sir,” Rufus said. “Our snipers are deploying now; we will have two shooters front and back and one on each side,” he said.

“Make sure they keep their heads down, we can’t afford to tip them off,” I warned.

“Understood.” Some unmarked vehicles left, and the rest of the men in full combat gear were checking weapons and communications. The agents I had watching the clubhouse met up with some of the sniper teams and passed along what they had learned.

I looked at my watch. Five minutes to target. “Mount up, boys,” Doug yelled. The LA SWAT members were inside the carrier or standing on platforms on the side and back. Their SWAT vehicle was behind it, another team inside and ready. The two armored vehicles would provide cover for the teams making the front door entry. The DEA SWAT vehicle pulled out, headed for the alley behind the building. They would break through the back fence, then deploy to the back door off the kitchen.

I stepped into the command vehicle, an RV-like vehicle owned by the Sheriff’s Department. They were taking the tactical lead on this operation since their SWAT team was much bigger and more experienced than ours. I sat behind Rufus and Doug as they watched the screens, a drone high above showing everything still quiet. “Don’t go early, everyone goes at six AM,” I said.

“We’re right on schedule,” Rufus said. The armored trucks were two blocks away, stopped where a building hid it from anyone looking out of the clubhouse. The command truck had launched a drone, which was providing a live overhead view of the target area. I could see two men on the roof and one by the front gate.

“Thirty seconds,” Rufus said over the radio. “All teams move into position.” The three SWAT vehicles left their hiding places, and the big personnel carrier accelerated. At five seconds, it made a turn at speed, crashing through the front gate. “GO, GO, GO!”

The raid was on.

Chase Nygaard’s POV

Long Beach Hotel

I arrived at almost three in the morning, expecting to find everyone asleep. Instead, they were all in my suite, gathered around Spider Monkey as she showed them everything she had on the warehouse where the money was. “Chase!” My big brother Sawyer had spotted me and ran up, hugging me to him. “Quite the fun job you’ve got for us.”

I slapped his back as he released me. “Never a dull moment for your baby bro,” I said. I hugged Carson, then greeted the ten Warriors they had brought from the Cascade and Donner Packs. “Thank you all for coming.”

“Mom would have our asses if we let the Cats get to you again,” Carson said. “I’m just glad I don’t have to deal with Coral after this. She’s going to be SOOO pissed she missed out on the fight.”

I laughed; my twin was a true warrior Beta. Part of the reason I hadn’t called home was that I knew she’d insist on coming, and I needed her protecting Arrowhead. I moved over to the table as everyone gathered around. “I’m glad I’m not waking you up or pulling you out of the bar, because we need to move quickly. I gave the DEA the information they need to get warrants, and Director Grimes told me things would happen soon. We need to get our plans down because we’ll get less than an hour warning before the Feds strike the clubhouse.”

“Do we have anyone watching the warehouse?”

Vic shook his head no. “Not yet. Now that the car is back, I’ll take Joe with me. We’ll set up some wifi-enabled cameras for Spider to watch, and we’ll set up surveillance.”

“Just stay on the far side of the clubhouse, we don’t need you being spotted by the Feds as they close in. I’m sure they have people around there somewhere.”

“Roger that, boss.” Vic grabbed the bag from Spider, giving her a possessive kiss, then walked out with Joe following.

“Vic, you know you can’t get close to Spider Monkey.”

“I know, and she does too. We’re having fun, and that’s all we’ll have.” I looked at Spider as he walked out, and she looked like a little girl who’d just had her favorite toy taken away. Vic was a big boy; he knew the rules, I just hoped he’d let Spider down easy.

The attack plan was simple, and we divided into teams for it. Matt was our explosives guy, and he’d place a small charge on the transformer feeding the building so we could cut power to it when we started the attack. We could see well in the dark, and the humans couldn’t, so we’d exploit that vulnerability. A team of six would storm from the front, five from the back. Joe and Vic would provide overwatch from their positions on nearby buildings; Joe’s suppressed AR-15 firing .300 Whisper subsonic rounds would barely make a noise as it took people out. Finally, I’d drive the moving van while Spider monitored the cameras. Since my brothers were here, I could mentally communicate with them and they could pass the information to the warriors they’d brought along.

“We should get going,” I said as I looked at my watch. It was four-thirty in the morning, and we’d gone over the plan again and again.

“Your luxury chariot awaits,” Spider said with a wicked grin as she packed up her laptop. She looked around at the tall and muscular men who all dressed the same; black jeans, T-shirts, and boots. “You guys might want to stagger your departures so you don’t scare the guests. You look like trouble.”

I opened the door for her, and we went out to the parking lot. She started it up while I opened up the back, and we parked near the back entrance. The guys came out in small groups, jumping up into the back and sitting down next to their bags of gear. It took five minutes before the rear door was closed, and we pulled out into traffic.

She parked on a deserted street near an all-night fast food place, and we went in to place a big order. Carrying big bags of burgers, fries, and milk containers, we walked back and slid the food into the darkened interior. “We’re only two miles from the target; we should stay here until we get word the raid is imminent,” she said.

“Works for me.”

She wadded up her burger wrapper and looked over at me. “So what’s the deal with Vic?”

“What do you mean? I’m sure you’ve done a complete background check on him by now.” She was careful and thorough; she would have done that before taking him to bed.

“It was the most boring background check ever. He has no police record, no credit history, no home or rental history, and no educational records. All I found was his Provincial Driver’s License and insurance information on his car and motorcycle. It’s clean; too clean. It’s not him.”

I just snickered; she had no idea how Pack life worked, and she’d flip if she knew Vic was around during the Civil War, and this was probably his second or third identity. “Have you asked him?”

“He didn’t want to talk about it.”

“He won’t. I won’t tell you his secrets, but he is a good man and I trust him with my life. When he lost his wife, he dedicated himself to being a protector of the innocent. He doesn’t care about anything else.” I looked over at her. “I know you like him, but his heart is locked away deep inside. Don’t hurt yourself thinking he is capable of more than he is.”

“He’s capable of all I can handle right now,” she said.

“Your help has been key to taking the Sons down, Spider. I won’t forget this, none of us will. When this is over, you’ll share equally in the spoils of war. Whatever else you need from me is yours if I can provide it.”

“I might take you up on that.”

My phone in my pocket buzzed with a message from Frank Grimes; the raid would happen at six in the morning. I let my brothers know. “It’s time to move in,” I said.

I started the truck and drove out of the shadows while she watched the cameras for activity. Our route ensured we wouldn’t get too close or expose ourselves to the lookouts on top of the Sons clubhouse. I cut the lights when we got close. When I came to a stop a few blocks away from our target, the team taking the back jumped out and moved silently away. They now wore black long-sleeve shirts, gloves, and masks, and were carrying suppressed machine pistols and knives. I drove through the deserted streets another six blocks, then turned around and parked in the shadows just out of sight of the warehouse. It was only a few hundred feet from the entrance. “Any activity, Vic?”

“Nothing, nice and quiet. We’ve got a good spot, views on the front and clubhouse sides.”

“Keep low, the strike on the Clubhouse is supposed to be at six.” I checked with my brothers, their teams were ready, staying hidden in the shadows.

“Chase, the SWAT vehicles are moving into staging positions now,” I heard from Vic. Looking at my watch, it was five minutes to six. “There’s a drone in the air too, it’s high up but I can hear it.”

“Stay hidden. Everyone move to final positions; we go when they do. The sounds of their attack will cover our own, and the drone won’t be looking our way.” I looked over at Spider Monkey. “What do you see on the cameras?”

“Nothing, we’re good,” she said.

The next few minutes took forever; finally, Vic reported the SWAT teams were inbound. “Stand by, go on the first explosion or announcement,” I told them. The last thing we wanted to do was go early and call attention to our location.

There was a screech of tires before a crash and a loud announcement of “POLICE! YOU ARE ALL UNDER ARREST!” The teams were off and running, climbing over the fences like they were nothing before rushing to the doors. The team in front kicked the door down and suppressed machine gun shots rang out.

It was on.