me needing to leave Priss. I hadn’t had the chance to assuage my curiosity yet, and had no intention of leaving until I did. Things have changed now though, and while most of my brothers don’t know about my real job someone, or should I say someone’s do.
CHAPTER TWO
Hunter
Turn The Page - Metallica
Damon Ford is the FBI agent in charge of the task force responsible for the sting involving the Satan’s Sons and my handler. He’s the only person within the bureau I’ve had any direct, or indirect contact with, and he’s also the man who’s about to have his ass handed to him. It’s ironic really when you think about it. The FBI prides themselves on being all seeing, all hearing, all knowing. When it came to Devil’s Spawn MC they had no fucking clue what they were up against, especially Damon.
Damon sent a text to my FBI issued burner phone today, eighteen months into the op we’ve been working instructing me to meet him at a spot about twenty miles out of town. I spotted him sitting on a bench underneath some overhanging branches, taking a seat beside him I stretch out my legs crossing them at the ankles and ask,
“What’s this about D? You don’t call me away ever, so it better be damn important if you’re getting me out here in the middle of the day when anyone can show up.”
Damon isn’t a small guy. He isn’t close to my height or weight, but he’s just as intimidating if not more so. Cracking his knuckles he leans back releasing a deep frustrated breath.
“We’ve run into a snag Hunter. I had no idea about what I’m about to tell you until today. Apparently the higher ups didn’t see fit to inform us lowly employees that they have multiple operations involving the same MC happening with in the bureau at the same time. I figure they were playing the odds. Working out who was gonna find the most, and then they’d decide how to proceed.”
Conflicting operations could blow this shit out of the water before we can even get a case put together.
“What the fuck are you talking on about? What did you find out?”
Shaking his head I can see Damon is just as pissed as I am, if not more so. Replying with clenched teeth he spits out,
“Getting you inside Devil’s Spawn in order to take out Satan’s Sons doesn’t seem like it’s a new idea. Two hours ago I got a call from the DA in Denver telling me he’s concerned about the overlapping cases with the MC’s. Apparently the FBI has four other agents already inside Devil’s Spawn MC under deep cover. They’ve been there for over twenty fucking years.”
Suddenly everything clicks slowing right the fuck down, and it all finally makes perfect sense. There are only six guys in the MC that have been members for over twenty years; Priest, Pipe, Reaper, Phil, Vic, and Jones. Having the president, vice president, sergeant at arms, and road captain acting as undercover FBI agents is akin to printing your own currency if I’m right in my assumptions. The influence those positions hold is like having a majority vote in our, the FBI’s, favour.
Shaking my head at the implications of Damon’s statement I question him some more.
“So what does that mean for us? Do we continue? Do we pack it in? What?” Unless our operations can work in cooperation there’s no point in me staying on.
“Look Hunter, word from above is we continue as planned. The Intel these four guys have is only going to work to solidify our RICO case. They fucking pegged you within a month of prospecting, or so I’ve been told by their handler. As to why they haven’t approached you about it, I don’t know. Clearly they’re not a threat otherwise I would have expected them to make a move, or at least make themselves known long before now.” Fuck me. This has just turned into a clusterfuck of epic proportions. “I’ve got no doubt they’ll make contact soon so hang tight. Do what you’ve been doing. Go about your business like
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley