Around 8:00 AM, the radio earpiece I’d kept in my pocket crackled to life. It was a different frequency now. A cleaner signal.
“…All units, we have a visual on the abandoned Jeep. Recover the drive at all costs. Target is a Class A threat. Use of lethal force authorized for the biker. The girl must be recovered alive if possible, but the drive is the priority. Do you copy?”
I pulled the earpiece out and crushed it in my palm.
“Time to go, Maya,” I said, my voice cold. “The party’s getting crowded.”
We didn’t head for the fortress. Not yet. I knew they’d be watching the main roads. Instead, we headed for a small, dilapidated fishing cabin on the banks of the Muskingum River. It belonged to a man named “Casket” Ray—a retired biker who had spent twenty years in the funeral business before losing his mind and moving into the woods. Ray was a genius with electronics and even better with a long-range rifle.
The hike took us through some of the roughest terrain in the state. We crossed freezing streams, climbed shale slopes that threatened to slide out from under us, and stayed off any trail that looked man-made. Maya was a soldier. She didn’t complain once. She just followed my lead, her small face set in a mask of grim endurance.
By the time we saw Ray’s cabin—a lopsided shack covered in camouflage netting—the sun was high and the humidity was thick. I whistled a specific three-note tune.
A second later, the muzzle of a .50 caliber Barrett poked out of a window in the shack.
“Step into the light, brother,” a voice rasped from a hidden speaker in a tree. “Let me see the patches.”
I stepped out, holding my hands away from my sides. “It’s Jax, Ray. I’ve got a guest. And a whole lot of heat.”
The rifle barrel retracted. The door opened with a groan of rusty hinges. Casket Ray stepped out. He was a wiry man with a long, white ponytail and eyes that looked like they’d seen too many ghosts. He looked at me, then at Maya, then at the blood on my sleeve.
“You look like hell, Jax,” Ray said, spitting a glob of tobacco juice into the dirt. “And who’s the munchkin?”
“This is Maya,” I said. “And she’s the most wanted person in the state. We need to go off the grid, Ray. Deep off. And I need you to look at something.”
We went inside. The cabin was a chaotic mess of computer monitors, radio equipment, and taxidermy. Ray cleared a pile of circuit boards off a table and sat Maya down. He gave her a can of peaches and a plastic spoon.
“Eat up, kid,” Ray said. “You look like you’re about to blow away in a stiff breeze.”
I handed Ray the USB drive. “There’s a game on here. ‘Star Quest.’ My guess is there’s an encrypted partition. We need to know what’s on it before we decide who to kill.”
Ray chuckled, a sound like dry leaves. “Encryption? Jax, you know I love a challenge. Give me twenty minutes.”
While Ray worked, I cleaned my wound properly and reloaded my magazines. I looked at Maya. She was eating the peaches with a focus that was almost hypnotic.
“You’re safe here, Maya,” I said. “Ray’s a good man. Mostly.”
“I like his dogs,” she said, pointing to a pair of massive, sleeping Dobermans in the corner.
“They like you too,” Ray muttered, his fingers flying across a keyboard. “Usually they try to eat anyone who isn’t me. They must smell the ‘Enforcer’ on you, Jax. Or maybe they just know a stray when they see one.”
Ray’s monitors began to flicker with lines of green code. He started mumbling to himself, his eyebrows knitting together.
“Jesus, Jax,” Ray said, his voice losing its playful edge. “This isn’t just a list. This is a ledger. It’s got every shell company, every offshore account, and every bribe paid out by the ‘Unity Group’ over the last ten years.”
“Unity Group?” I asked. “The private security firm?”
“Private security my ass,” Ray spat. “They’re a shadow government. They handle the ‘wet work’ for half the politicians in the Midwest. And look at this…”
He pointed to a folder labeled PROJECT CENSUS.
“It’s a human trafficking log, Jax. But it’s not for the streets. These girls… they’re being moved into high-end ‘facilities’ for people who have more money than God. And the man running the show? Look at the signature on the wire transfers.”
I looked at the screen. The name was familiar. Senator Richard Sterling.
The man I’d seen in the wool coat wasn’t the boss. He was just the dog on the leash. The man holding the leash was a U.S. Senator. A man who was currently running for Governor on a “Family Values” platform.
“This is big,” I said, a cold weight settling in my stomach. “Too big for a motorcycle club, Ray.”
“You’re right,” Ray said. “But it’s too late to back out. Because as soon as I cracked this, I guaranteed that a satellite is currently repositioning over this cabin.”
Suddenly, the Dobermans stood up, their hackles raised. They let out a low, vibrating growl that made the floorboards shake.
“They’re here,” Ray said, reaching for his Barrett.
“How many?” I asked, grabbing the MP5.
“Enough to make it interesting,” Ray replied, a wild glint in his eyes. “Jax, take the girl and go through the tunnel under the floorboards. It comes out by the river. I’ve got a boat waiting.”
“I’m not leaving you, Ray.”
“Shut up and move! I’ve been waiting for a reason to go out in a blaze of glory. Besides, I’ve got enough C4 wired to this cabin to level a city block. If they want the data, they’re going to have to sift through the ashes.”
I looked at Ray. He wasn’t joking. He was a man who had finally found his purpose.
“See you on the other side, brother,” I said.
I grabbed Maya and pulled her toward a trapdoor hidden under a rug. As we descended into the dark, damp tunnel, I heard the first crack of the Barrett .50 cal. It was followed by a sound like a freight train—the sound of the forest being torn apart by return fire.
We crawled through the mud and the dark, the sound of the battle fading above us. When we emerged, we were on the muddy banks of the Muskingum. A small, aluminum skiff with an outboard motor was tied to a pier.
I threw Maya into the boat and pulled the starter cord. The motor sputtered, then roared.
“Hold on!” I yelled.
We tore away from the bank just as a massive explosion rocked the forest behind us. A fireball rose into the sky, turning the grey clouds a bright, violent orange. Ray’s cabin was gone.
I didn’t look back. I couldn’t afford to. I looked at Maya. She was looking at the fire, her face illuminated by the glow of the destruction.
“Is Ray okay?” she asked.
“Ray’s doing exactly what he wanted to do,” I said, though my throat felt tight. “Now, we have to finish it.”
We spent the next four hours navigating the river, staying close to the overhanging trees. By the time we hit the outskirts of Zanesville, I knew we had a choice. We could keep running, or we could take the fight to Sterling.
I pulled the boat into a hidden cove and looked at Maya.
“Maya, listen to me. I’m going to call my brothers. Not just my chapter. All of them. From Cleveland to Cincinnati. We’re going to meet at the Iron Fortress. And then, we’re going to give that list to the only person who can use it.”
“Who?” she asked.
“A girl I used to know,” I said. “She’s a reporter now. A real pitbull. If we give her this, Sterling won’t just lose the election. He’ll lose his life.”
But I knew Sterling wouldn’t go quietly. He’d send everything he had. The “Unity Group” would be out in force.
I picked up a burner phone I’d taken from Ray’s shack and dialed a number I hadn’t called in ten years.
“Big Mike?” I said when the voice answered. “It’s Jax. I’m bringing in a package. I need the whole club. Full colors. Full gear. We’re at war.”
“The Fortress?” Mike asked, his voice gravelly and calm.
“The Fortress,” I replied. “And Mike? Bring the heavy stuff. We’re going up against a Senator.”
“Understood,” Mike said. “See you
