Chapter Five: The Opportunity
1036 Words
COLE
Four months since the border confrontation, and I still couldn't get her out of my head.
The intelligence report sat on my desk, three pages that could change everything.
"You're sure about this?" I looked at Marcus.
"Positive. Elijah's moving a weapons shipment up I-15 next Tuesday. Five trucks, minimal security." Marcus leaned forward. "Only his Road Captain and two enforcers riding escort."
Three men. Against what I could bring.
"Why minimal security?"
"Because he's buying from the Sinaloa Cartel without his chapter knowing. If word got out, they'd question his judgment." Marcus spread a map across my desk. "Mile marker 22. Fifteen-mile stretch with no cell coverage after midnight."
Perfect ambush territory.
"How did you get this?"
Marcus's smile was thin. "Let's just say Elijah's not the only one with sources inside the Iron Wolves."
Elara. It had to be.
For four months, I'd tracked her through Marcus's reports. Still locked down. Still playing submissive. Still trapped. Every report
made my jaw clench tighter.
"If I take out Elijah during that transport, what happens to the Iron Wolves?"
"Chapter falls apart or gets absorbed by whoever's strong enough." Marcus met my eyes. "You'd be taking his territory, his club, everything he built."
Everything. Including her.
"Get Garrett."
"You're thinking about hitting Elijah." Garrett dropped into the chair across from me after reading the report.
"I'm thinking about expanding into northern Arizona."
"This isn't about territory." Garrett's voice was flat. "This is about her."
"It's about both."
"Cole. I've known you eight years. You don't make moves based on emotion." He leaned forward. "You've been obsessed with Elijah's old lady for four months. And now you want to assassinate a rival president?"
"He's vulnerable. This is smart strategy."
"Smart strategy doesn't involve this much risk for this little gain. The Iron Wolves aren't worth starting a war over." Garrett's eyes bored into mine. "The only thing they have that you want is wearing Elijah's ring."
I didn't answer. Couldn't.
"What happens after?" Garrett asked quietly. "Say you kill Elijah. Say you claim her. You think she's going to thank you? You think she won't see you as the man who murdered her old man?"
"He's not her old man. He's her jailer."
"You don't know that. You saw her for three seconds four months ago. Everything else is intelligence reports and speculation."
"I know what I saw."
"You saw a woman who could fight. That doesn't mean she wants to be rescued." Garrett stood. "I'll back whatever play you make. But I'm telling you, this is obsession. And obsession gets brothers killed."
The door closed behind him.
He was wrong. This wasn't just obsession.
But I couldn't explain how those three seconds had felt like recognition. How I'd seen someone hiding their true self as convincingly
as I'd hidden mine. How every report about her locked-down existence made something in my chest tighten.
I'd spent six years being calculated. Strategic. Never acting on impulse.
I was tired of it.
I wanted her. Wanted to understand her. Wanted to see what happened when she didn't have to hide anymore.
If that made me obsessed, so be it.
I texted the officers: Church in one hour.
The chapel was full, all eight officers waiting. I stood.
"We have an opportunity to expand into northern Arizona and eliminate a problem festering since Laughlin."
I laid out the intelligence. The shipment. The vulnerability. The strategic benefit. I framed it as pure business.
"How many brothers for the hit?" Travis, our enforcer.
"Six. Surgical strike. Hit the convoy at mile marker 22, eliminate targets, secure the weapons shipment."
"Blowback from the Iron Wolves?" Dimitri asked.
"Without Elijah, they'll fracture. We offer absorption to willing members. Most of those brothers know Elijah's making bad calls. The
cartel connection will come out, they'll understand we did them a favor."
"What about Elijah's old lady?" Marcus, our youngest officer. "If we kill her man, what happens to her?"
Every eye turned to me.
"She gets offered the same choice as every other Iron Wolf. Join us, go neutral, or walk away."
"And if she wants revenge?"
"Then we deal with it. But I don't think she will."
Because I'd seen her step away from Elijah's grip. Because every report suggested she was a prisoner. Because those three seconds had told me she was waiting for exactly this.
But I couldn't say any of that.
"Because she's smart enough to recognize reality."
The vote was unanimous. Six days to plan.
As the meeting broke up, Garrett lingered. "Once you kill Elijah, there's no going back. Whatever you think you saw in her, you better be right."
"I'm right."
"I hope so. For all our sakes."
Late that night, alone in my office, I studied the map. Mile marker 22. Tuesday midnight. Six brothers against three.
Clean. Quick. Elijah wouldn't see it coming.
And then she'd be free.
I told myself this was about strategy. Territory. Eliminating a rival who'd disrespected us.
But late at night, with no one watching, I could admit the truth.
This was about her. About claiming something I'd wanted since those three seconds. About seeing what happened when the woman
who moved like a trained killer didn't have to hide.
Garrett was right, this wasn't me. The old me would never risk everything on impulse. Would never make a move this big based on recognition and obsession.
But I wasn't the old me anymore.
If this was obsession, I'd embrace it. If this was reckless, so be it. If this started a war, I'd finish it.
Tuesday at midnight, Elijah would die on I-15. And Elara would finally be free.
Whether she wanted to be or not.
I closed the folder and locked it away. Six days to plan the hit that would change everything.
Six days until I claimed what I'd been hunting for four months.
The ghost rider was about to lose her jailer. And I'd be there to offer her a choice—join me, or walk away forever.
Either way, she'd be free. And I'd finally have my answer about what I'd seen in those three seconds.
The hunt was almost over.
Now came the kill.
- Writer
