Leo produced a folded piece of notebook paper from his pocket. On it, in the careful block letters of a child who understood the importance of accuracy, were names, times, and fragments of conversation.
Riker read it, folded it carefully, and tucked it into the inner pocket of his cut. He looked at the rust-eaten bicycle, then at the bruise on the boy’s shoulder. He thought about what it cost a nine-year-old in pure nerve to ride twenty minutes up a mountain road to warn a dozen Hells Angels.
“You did good,” Riker said. It came out simply, without decoration.
He turned to his brothers. “Cole, take the boy back to the clubhouse. Side roads, not the main. Make sure he’s inside before you come back.”
Then, Riker looked toward the bend two hundred yards ahead, where a group of armed men waited for a column of motorcycles that was no longer coming. “The rest of you,” he commanded, “kill your lights and follow me.”
“Roar,” Riker said to the nearest rider, a compact, broad-shouldered man with a military bearing. “Get the drone up. Route 7 junction. Rail bridge corner.”
The drone was modified equipment that had no obvious business being in a motorcycle club saddlebag, but Riker Cross had never fully stopped being a Ranger. The chapter knew better than to ask questions about his kit. It went up fast and silent. Moments later, the feed came through to Riker’s phone.
Seen from above in a thermal overlay, the junction looked exactly like what it was: A carefully prepared kill zone.
Three black SUVs in a staggered formation under the bridge.
Road hazards placed in two lines across the pavement to trap riders.
Fourteen figures distributed between the vehicles and shadowed pillars.
Two elevated snipers—one on the bridge, one on a concrete support.
It was professionally designed. Someone with heavy operational training had set this up. Riker stared at the feed for ninety seconds. Then, he rotated the drone camera to survey the terrain behind the junction. The hillside rose steeply on the north side of the road, wooded with pine and scrub juniper, accessible from a service trail along the rail line.