Protect & Serve(209)

“But why?” I asked quietly. “Why risk moving somewhere like this when the place is barely together?”

“No idea,” he murmured. “I can only guess that the other cartels have been pushing them forward, taking territory further South.”

Hunter nodded to the other bikers, gave a signal, and watched as they quickly checked their weapons. With everyone satisfied, he adjusted his signal, and the team scampered out in front.

It wasn’t more than a few seconds before a few cartel gunmen with automatic weapons poured out into the open. Fanning out in a defensible formation, they strolled out and rained down gunfire as the bikers ducked behind vehicles and whatever cover they could find. Hunter and I watched from behind the cover. I was preparing to fire off a few rounds before he held up a cease-fire hand.

“No… not yet. Let’s not signal our position until they’re distracted…”

“They’re sitting ducks out there!” I hissed.

“These are the Outlaws you’re talking about,” Hunter informed me. “They can hold their own… just watch.”

The cartel formation continued fanning out, separating to cover more ground. A few of the nearer bikers, ducked behind a truck, glanced to Hunter for instruction.

He made a quick motion, earning the attention of the closest gunman. The bastard let loose some rifle fire our way, the rounds unable to penetrate the thick wall, but it gave the sequestered bikers the opening they needed.

We heard the gunman fall with an anguished shriek, and the others turned to return firepower. That pulled them away from their searches, allowing a few Outlaws to find more offensive positions along the edges… The bikers made use of the shadows, firing pot shots from the dark. Some stayed mobile, moving around when not in a line of sight, quietly creeping around to attack from a new vantage point.

The cartel fighters seemed to realize their error. They were standing directly in the moonlight and unable to see their enemies. They decided to rush the shadows, firing off a sweeping round in a wide circle.

“Now!” Hunter snarled.

The bikers descended from the shadows in an ambush and I watched as our enemies fell. The last two threw down their arms in surrender, and Hunter led me forward quickly.

We each took one of their rifles from the ground, shared a glance, and bashed them with a swift strike to the back of the head. The surrendering cartel members dropped to the ground, unresponsive to a pair of swift boot kicks to the ribs.

They’d wake up with a few broken ribs, but they’d live to see another day. Hunter had them hog tied before we moved closer to the building.

Several of the bikers snatched up remaining weaponry and pocketed their own pistols. My eyes scanned the vehicles and I spotted that bastard van off to the side in a line of trucks.

Pointing it out to Hunter, he nodded.

The abducted girls are here.

I could hear gunfire from inside – it was clear that the rest of the Outlaws had found another entrance or two, and were storming the unfinished facility from different approaches.

Another ten bikers slipped around the front and joined our battalion. We’d lost one of our men in the shadow ambush, although I was surprised that it hadn’t been more…

“These must be new recruits,” Hunter muttered, kicking over one of the fresh corpses. “They’re stupid motherfuckers, but this cartel isn’t usually that unprepared…”

“Where’s Grizz?” I asked suddenly, glancing around. Hunter was ripped from his thoughts, matching my sweeping gaze with his own.

“Leading a second team inside,” one of the bikers informed us. “Took a group of twenty and stormed towards the back.”

“That’s my boy,” Hunter chuckled. “Well, let’s not keep him waiting…”

Hunter strolled forward, leading our collective of armed badasses for the front gates. He had such a comfortable, confident swagger, slinging the rifle over his shoulder and whipping out a pair of pistols.

If only time could have slowed down there and then, like it does in the goddamn movies.

One of his Devil’s Dragons kicked the front door. The immediate bath of light demonstrated that Víboras Verde had done more work on the interior than they had on the outside.

As the sound of commotion filled the air with gunfire, smoke, and adrenaline, Hunter’s lips spread into a wicked grin.

“Sweep and clean house, boys.”

We strolled through the entrance as the bikers fanned out around us, automatic rifles at the ready. Every cartel gunmen that appeared around a corner or behind cover suffered from an immediate hail of bullets, shoving them back out of sight.

He signaled for the team to separate into three factions headed for different areas. One group of five or six broke off on either side, fleeing towards nearby halls or staircases as our remaining escort surrounded us in a circle and followed his lead.