Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 74122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“Small nation on the island of Borneo,” Mercy explained.
“Run by some fuckin’ sultan,” D added.
He didn’t even know where the island of Borneo was. He’d never had a geography class in his life, but he was keeping that to himself and he nodded like he knew. “A sultan?”
“Yeah, won’t give a shit about any American girl. Especially one with her father. If they’re still there, we can get in an’ out with no one the wiser. If they moved on...”
“When will you know?” Dawg asked Mercy.
“Hunter an’ Walker are headed there now,” Mercy answered. “Problem is, there are plenty of other countries Americans can hide an’ not worry about extradition. Cuba bein’ one. Russia. The Western Sahara. Hell, Mongolia. Even fuckin’ Iran an’ Afghanistan. Though, don’t think the boys want to take a trip back down memory lane into those hell holes.”
Dawg lifted a hand. “Hold up. Were they plannin’ on contactin’ the governments in these places first?”
“Fuck no,” D grunted.
“Nope,” Mercy confirmed. “This mission’s goin’ to be of the shock an’ awe variety. Get in, get the girl, get the fuck out.”
“Maybe not so neat,” D muttered, raising a brow toward Mercy.
That made a smile curve at Mercy’s mouth. Though his smile looked not only crooked, but sinister from the scar that ran diagonally across his face and pulled up one side of this lip. “It’ll be neat. Painless.”
“Don’t want Lily witnessin’ any shit, D. Don’t want her scarred for life.”
“Like me?” Mercy asked.
“No, mentally scarred, not just stuck with an ugly puss like yours.”
“She ain’t gonna see shit,” D confirmed, giving Mercy a look, whose expression reminded Dawg of stone.
“Emma’s gonna get Kiki to file for full custody, so when Lily comes back, there ain’t goin’ to be any issues,” Dawg told them.
“Not goin’ to need that. But let her do it, anyway. The man will never return to American soil. Guaranteed. But she doesn’t need to know that.”
Diesel nodded at Mercy’s word. “Guaranteed. An’ agreed, your woman don’t need to know. Better she not know any fuckin’ details.”
“An’ when the FBI asks how Emma got ‘er back?”
“We’ll come up with a story. Might even be true,” Mercy said. “Girlfriend got knocked up, didn’t want to be saddled with the man’s kid anymore, put her on a plane back to her mother. Simple.”
Dawg didn’t think it was that simple, but he wasn’t going to argue. Whatever it took to get Lily back was okay with him.
“Ain’t divorced yet, right?” D asked.
“Right.”
D’s eyes met Mercy’s as he gave his man his orders. “Death certificate. Got me? Man died in a tragic accident, girlfriend don’t wanna raise another woman’s kid, ships her home. No problem with custody. No problem with the fuckin’ divorce. The widow gets the man’s shit. Life insurance, any assets, whatever.”
“If he didn’t change the beneficiary,” Mercy murmured.
D shrugged. “Either way. She’s free of ‘im. Kid’ll be safe. No fuckin’ worries.”
Mercy nodded. “An’ the girlfriend will never show her face in the good o’ US of A, either. She’s a fugitive.”
“Yeah,” D grunted. “Lemme know when you hear from Hunter or Walker.”
“Got it. I’ll be on standby. Will head out as soon as I get a twenty.” Mercy pushed away from the wall. He whacked Dawg on the back as he passed, saying, “Got your six, brother.” He headed toward the door. “Get your woman’s girl back an’ you’ll get grateful pussy for the rest of your fuckin’ life. Guaranteed.”
Dawg doubted that. As soon as Emma got her daughter back, she’d be getting her life back in order. He was sure Emma wanted to be a good role model for her girl, not raising her kid over a strip club where she only had to walk down the steps to be the Heaven’s Angels’ hostess and have men pawing at her.
“Spill it. What’s she to you?” Diesel asked him once the door closed behind Mercy.
“Nothin’.”
“Ain’t nothin’. Makin’ too much of an effort for nothin’.”
Dawg stayed quiet, hoping the club’s Sergeant at Arms would drop it.
But that wasn’t good enough for D. “Known her less than a couple weeks, right?”
“Right.”
“My guys’ asses are on the fuckin’ line headin’ into some of these countries, got me?”
“Yeah.”
“So ain’t fuckin’ nothin’. Not gonna continue this mission if she’s nothin’. If she’s nothin’ send ‘er on her way. Ain’t attractin’ trouble for the club or my business for nothin’, got me?”
“I gotta cover it, I’ll cover it.”
“More than you got.”
Dawg stared at Diesel with dread. The man knew what Heaven’s Angels was pulling in revenue wise every month since he sat on the DAMC’s Executive Committee. So he knew that Dawg wasn’t hurting for scratch in any way, shape or form. But what Dawg had banked wouldn’t be enough?
Fuck. He had almost five hundred grand tucked away in his personal account. And Diesel knew that, too, because the club got ten percent of the net income every month from all the DAMC businesses. And Diesel was no dumb fuck. The strip club was one of the DAMC’s top earning businesses.