Page 11 of Victorious, Part 2 (The LA Defiance MC #6)
HAVEN
The chapel fills with the familiar sounds of brotherhood, boots on stairs, chairs scraping against floors, and the low murmur of voices asking what the hell is going on this time.
I take my usual spot on the stool beside Alpha’s president’s chair, while Nighthawk settles into the spare seat Ink silently pulls up for her.
It’s a small gesture, but I notice the way some of the tension leaves her shoulders. Acceptance, even grudging acceptance, means something when you’ve spent your whole life as a weapon instead of a person.
Alpha bangs his gavel once, and the room falls silent.
His presence commands attention even when he’s not trying, but right now there’s an edge to him that makes everyone sit up straighter.
“All right, brothers,” he begins, his voice carrying the weight of leadership.
“Haven and Nighthawk have information that’s going to make our situation a hell of a lot more complicated, I’m assuming. ”
“More complicated than it already is?” Dutch grumbles from his seat. “Jesus Christ, what’s next? Aliens?”
“Don’t give the universe any ideas,” Loki mutters, which earns a few chuckles through the room.
Alpha doesn’t smile. “Haven, tell them what you found.”
I stand, meeting the eyes of each brother in turn. These men have become my family, and I’m about to tell them that everything we thought we knew about our enemy was only the tip of the iceberg.
“The prison isn’t just compromised. It’s been weaponized. Loki’s been monitoring security feeds, and what we’re seeing is not random violence or gang activity. It’s methodical.”
Montana leans forward, his knuckles white where they’re gripping the table. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, they’re using bird symbols to mark prisoners.
Not just any symbols, our symbols. Specific markings that correspond to training levels and psychological profiles.
There are also marks on the walls, ones that correlate to existing birds.
Whether it’s to mark territory or targets, we can’t tell. ” I pause, letting that sink in.
Alpha furrows his brows at me. “Existing birds? You wanna be a little clearer on which birds are being displayed there, Haven?”
Slumping my shoulders, I glance at Nighthawk, then at Loki, and he nods once at me, telling me I need to tell him. “Inside the prison, on the walls, there were markings of Blue Jays, Nighthawks…” I pause as he sits taller, waiting for me to finish, “… and Hummingbirds.”
Alpha clenches his eyes shut tight, his nostrils flaring as he scrubs at his face in frustration.
My hand slides out, caressing his back as Loki takes over the conversation.
“We can’t be sure that the markings mean that the three of them are targets.
It could simply be a territory, or a location beacon—”
“Bullshit!” Alpha growls, slamming his fist on the Chapel table so hard the epoxy cracks a little beneath his trembling fist. His chest heaves as we all stare at him.
“We all know it means, Haven, Cassandra, and my fucking daughter are targets. I need someone on Poppy every second of every. Fucking. Day. I will not let these Cartel cunts get their hands on my daughter again. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear ?”
Everyone nods in agreement. “We got you, Pres,” Dutch states.
“Nothing’s gonna happen to that little grommet, not on our watch, bro,” Rip states.
Cuddling into Alpha’s side, he finally glances up at me. “We got this. Poppy’ll be fine,” I tell him.
He lets out a stuttered breath. “And what about you and Nighthawk?”
Smirking, I side-eye Cassandra. “We can hold our own.”
Alpha slides his arm around my waist, yanking me down to sit in his lap in front of everyone.
I don’t resist. I don’t fight. Because I know right now, he needs my comfort.
Because in his mind, he’s picturing Poppy and me being killed at the hands of Javier.
So, I let him hold me, and I wrap my arms around his neck, to ground him.
It seems to be the very thing he needs as he lifts his head, a fierce determination crossing his face. “Loki, what else do we know?”
“They’re farming new assassins. Using the prison population as a recruitment pool.” The silence that follows is deafening.
Montana jerks his head back in shock. “You’re saying they’re turning prisoners into birds?”
“Not exactly,” Nighthawk, dammit, Cassandra interjects, and all eyes turn to her.
“They’re using a bastardized version of the training.
Faster, cruder, but effective enough. The women they’re targeting already have the psychological markers.
Trauma, violence in their backgrounds, reasons to want revenge against the system. ”
“And they have nowhere to run,” Ink adds grimly. “A perfect captive audience.”
“It gets worse,” I continue. “The tunnels beneath the prison? They’re not just smuggling routes. They’re training facilities, or something is brewing down there that we’re not sure of yet. And according to Cassandra, there are similar setups across multiple states.”
Maverick throws his hands in the air in frustration. “You’re telling me that while we’ve been licking our wounds and planning defense, this bastard’s been building a goddamn empire?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” I state.
“How the fuck did we miss this?” South demands, his phone finally put away for once.
Cassandra clears her throat. “Because Javier learned from what happened to Rico. The old Cartel was centralized and had a hierarchy. Take out the head, the body dies. Javier’s building something different, a network that can survive leadership losses because it’s integrated into legitimate systems.”
Alpha’s voice is deadly quiet when he speaks. “Explain.”
“Senator Wilson isn’t just taking bribes,” she continues. “He’s planning to introduce legislation that would privatize more correctional facilities. Guess who’s got shell companies ready to bid on those contracts?”
The cursing that erupts from around the table would make a sailor blush.
But it’s Montana’s voice that cuts through the noise, raw with desperation. “What about my mother? Is she… are they trying to turn her into a bird?”
“No,” Cassandra says firmly. “Valerie doesn’t fit the profile they’re looking for. She’s too psychologically stable, too connected to her family. But they’re using her as leverage, against you, against Warden Garver, against this club.”
“Leverage for what?” Alpha questions.
“To keep everyone in line while they finish the current phase. But Montana…” Cassandra turns to face him directly. “Your mother’s smart. And according to the intel I gathered before leaving Javier, she’s been organizing resistance among the inmates who aren’t being recruited.”
“Mom’s fighting back,” Montana murmurs, nodding his head. He knew she would fight all along.
“She’s been fighting back since the day she was attacked. The question is whether we can get to her before Javier decides she’s more trouble than she’s worth.”
The weight of that statement settles over the room like a funeral shroud.
We all know what ‘more trouble than she’s worth’ means in Javier’s world.
Alpha stands, shifts me from his lap, and begins to pace behind his chair. “All right. Let’s talk strategy. What are our options?”
“We could try to extract Valerie,” Strings suggests. “Get her out of there before—”
“And leave hundreds of other women behind? Plus, extracting one person doesn’t stop the larger operation. They’ll move to a different facility and start over, even if it kills me to say that. We all know how much I love Val and want her out of there,” I interrupt.
“So, what are you suggesting, Haven?” Dutch asks.
“We shut it down… all of it.” I look around the room, meeting each pair of eyes. “We don’t just rescue Valerie. We expose the whole network, take down the facilities, and make sure Javier can never rebuild this nightmare.”
“That’s a hell of a tall order,” Loki points out. “We’re talking multiple states, dozens of facilities, and a conspiracy that apparently goes all the way up to the Senate.”
“So… we don’t do it alone,” Alpha suggests, stopping his pacing. “Is there anyone who might be willing to help. What about the federal agents we worked with before? Any of ’em clean?”
“Agent Rivera is solid,” I offer. “She was helpful during the Governor Marshall situation…” I hesitate, glancing at Cassandra. “During the takedown of your father.”
She turns her lip, shaking her head. “He’s not my father. Just a sperm donor,” she states, making everyone in the room relax a little more.
“And there’s Warden Garver,” Montana adds, moving the conversation along. “He’s already inside the system, knows who can be trusted.”
Cassandra nods slowly. “There might be others. Former Nest personnel who went underground instead of joining Javier. If we can find them—”
“That’s a lot of ifs and maybes,” Loki points out. “What we need is concrete intelligence. Locations, timelines, security protocols.”
“I can get some of that,” Cassandra admits. “I still have access to certain communication channels. But using them might expose my location to Javier.”
“And put you right back in his crosshairs,” I finish.
“Not necessarily a bad thing,” she says thoughtfully. “I mean, he’s going to find out I’m here eventually. At least this way, we control the information flow.”
“Absolutely fucking not,” Ink growls from his corner. “You’re not putting yourself at risk like that.”
The vehemence in his voice surprises everyone, including Cassandra, who blinks at him in confusion.
“I’m not suggesting anything reckless,” she clarifies quickly. “Just that we use my knowledge while we can. The longer I stay hidden, the more time he has to solidify these operations.”
“She’s right about the timing,” Alpha says carefully. “But Ink’s got a point about the risk.”
“We’re all at risk,” Cassandra points out. “The question is whether we use that risk strategically or let it control us.”