Path of Ranger: Volume 1 Read Online Free PDF

sign for a driver to give up the vehicle, so he did. The deal was done.
    “Nice having business with you, Dog,” JB offered his hand to shake.
    “Same here, B. Take care.”
    They shook it. Big Dog put on black shades and returned to his crew. JB stepped closer to his bike to take a folded leather backpack, which was hanging on the side of it. He put all the money from the case into the bag and threw in on his shoulders. Meanwhile the van along with SUVs had left. JB passed the empty case to Tyris.
    “That’s it. Let’s move.”
    The big guy mounted his motorcycle, everyone else got in the Ford. Before leaving he wanted to make a call. Bridgers didn't save work numbers in his phone and didn't keep them written down. All of them he knew by heart. That effort was supposed to shorten the evidence in case of an arrest. The call passed through.
    “Yeah, JB?” man’s voice responded.
    “Yo! Mike, sup?”
    “We have all of it. Will be at the base soon.”
    “Cool. See ya.’”
    JB shoved the phone where it belonged. He put the helmet on and rode closely to the truck. Tyris lowered the window.
    “All of ours gotta be in the crib by six p.m.”
    “Done,” Tyris said.
    The biker moved and, in a blink of an eye, was far gone. Several minutes without the helmet and respirator showed up in JB's condition. The cocaine that he had breathed jumbled his clear thinking a bit. His moves got more sharp and the movement speed went much higher. One task was ahead of him – to dissolve the gang. Then he had to disappear, as soon as possible. He had to put it together. Bridgers knew from the very beginning what the end would be like. The business had to close at some point. It was inevitable not because of JB’s fear or weakness. But because nothing lasts forever, especially the careers of the criminals. Three years in lies and deceptions were ending that day. It was time to find a new cover. The deal with Big Dog was planned as a huge performance, and it wasn’t the last one. JB needed a short break to prepare for next act.
    The flight was set for that night. A cargo plane with humanitarian aid heading to Ukraine had been scheduled to launch from L.A. JB was supposed to fly on it, to leave Los Angeles, the best place for him on Earth.
     
    The biker arrived at one of the tall houses in a prestigious neighborhood. His home was there. No one would suspect a young man from such peaceful place to be connected to the drug business. JB went to the underground parking space. He passed an empty guard booth, craftily driving around the barrier. The parking spot was not far from the entrance. A white Cadillac Escalade waited for him there.
    The big guy turned off the Ducati, took off the helmet, and took a short breath, checking if the air was clear. It was. Then he put down a kickstand and stepped on the ground. After checking that no one was around, JB took off the bag and unlocked the car. On the backseat, he found a brand new vest, just like one that he was wearing. Also there was another bag, under the driver-side seat, with some money in it. He moved all things from the backpack to that sports bag, except the money for the crew.
    Suddenly his hand reached back inside, to get the cash. The man was stunned. His head was full of thoughts that he had all the money and got rid of the evidence, nothing was holding him. He could take it all and go to any other state, no one would find him. That wish was intoxicating his mind. The doubts sounded louder and louder. But a moment after that weakness was gone, a sanity took over. Jerry closed the bag and moved it beneath the seat where it had been before. Then he sealed the backpack and threw it on the shoulders.
    He locked the Escalade and the gangster rode his bike out of the garage. This time the helmet stayed fixed on the back seat, JB had chosen to move the rest of the distance holding his breath. Right behind the corner was the front door to the building. JB stopped and went in.
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