Page 43 of Victorious, Part 2 (The LA Defiance MC #6)

Haven appears at my shoulder, her voice steady but carrying an edge that tells me she’s thinking like the tactical genius she is.

“We have eyes on security rotations, guard changes, and civilian proximity. Nighthawk’s intel on the tunnel systems checked out.

Montana and the Martinez twins have confirmed every detail. ”

Montana speaks from his position against the wall.

“The prison layout is burned into my memory. Every guard station, every camera angle, every weak point in their security. When we go in for my mother and the other birds, we’ll know exactly where we’re going.

And we’ll be extracting Warden Garver too.

That bitch Rhonda has been setting him up to take the fall for Javier’s operations. ”

Hurricane leans forward, his presence commanding. “Now, I got a question for y’all. What happens if one of our operations goes sideways? If Chicago gets hit harder than expected, or if Tampa runs into complications?”

I meet his eyes, then look at each screen in turn.

“We don’t abort. We can’t. The moment one operation fails, Javier’s people start moving assets, changing protocols, disappearing witnesses.

It’s all or nothing, brothers. We hit simultaneously, or we fail completely.

If Javier gets word that one of his targets is being hit, he will start his action protocols.

It all has to be done at the same time. He can’t know what fucking hit him. ”

“And if we fail?” Sin asks, his question carrying the weight we’re all feeling.

“Then we record messages for our families and pray they forgive us for what we tried to do.” The words taste bitter, but they need to be said.

“Because if Javier’s network survives this, if he gets control of those prison systems, gets control of our government, there won’t be anywhere left to hide.

Not for us, not for our old ladies, not for our kids. ”

Haven steps forward. “The thing is, this isn’t just about the Cartel.

Yes, the Cartel is the main piece, but they have the government helping them.

If we let the Cartel’s operations continue, with government backing, we have absolutely no hope of bringing this down.

We put Governor Marshall behind bars, but Senator Wilson is still in play and trying to pull strings that are helping the Cartel.

We can’t let it continue. We have to cut off every head of this slithering medusa. ”

“Exactly… Medusa’s myth is a warning to mortals.

Don’t believe yourself to be equal to the gods.

The Cartel is comparing itself to gods. But they’re not.

And we’re gonna bring them back down to earth.

We have encrypted communication protocols in place,” I continue, pulling us back to operational details.

“Code words only. No names over the airwaves. When your target is neutralized, you check in with ‘Package delivered.’ If you’re compromised, ‘Weather’s turning. ’ ”

Torque nods. “What about backup? If someone needs reinforcement?”

“There is no backup,” I say firmly. “Each chapter is on its own… that’s the unfortunate reality of simultaneous operations across this many cities. You succeed with the brothers you have, or you don’t succeed at all.”

Hurricane’s voice cuts through the tension again, “Alpha, you want us to record messages for our families. You tellin’ us this is a suicide mission?”

I turn, my eyes meeting his beside me, and I rest my hand on his shoulder.

“I’m thinking this is war. Real war. The kind where good men die and families get torn apart.

I want everyone going into this with their eyes wide open.

If you make it through, you get to delete the message and go home to your Old Lady.

If you don’t…” I let the words hang in the air, like a noxious gas suffocating our lungs as it steals our breath.

The weight of silence fills the room as each president processes what we’re asking of their chapters.

“Anyone wants to back out, now’s the time,” I continue. “No judgment, no questions asked. But once we start this thing, there’s no turning back.”

Torque is the first to speak, “Chicago’s in.”

“Houston’s ready,” Six declares.

“All right, let’s fuckin’ do this,” Hurricane declares.

“Tampa’s locked and loaded,” Nycto states.

Sin leans forward, looking right down the screen as if he’s staring right at me. “Vegas doesn’t back down.” Then a slow smile crosses his face.

I nod, feeling a surge of pride and terror in equal measure.

“Then it’s decided. Operation Darkfire launches in seventy-two hours.

That gives Hurricane and Bayou time to get back to New Orleans and gives all chapters time for final preparations.

It also allows for a window to adjust if new intelligence comes in.

” I pause, meeting each president’s eyes through their screens.

“Get your brothers ready, get your gear checked, and get your heads right. When this is over, when we have wiped their existence off the map, then we celebrate. Not a moment before. We will check in again, but for now, go get ready and hold those you love tight. We are Defiance!”

“ We are Defiance! ” they all reply, then the screens start going dark.

Hurricane and Bayou remain in their seats. The weight of what we’re about to do settles over the chapel like a shroud.

I look over my brothers and nod. “You guys ready for this?”

Loki, Maverick, and Strings all nod, Ink grunts, Rip grins like a madman, Dutch dips his head at me, and Montana lets out what looks like an exhausted sigh.

This shit has got to be hard on him.

Knowing his mother is in the prison where all of this is going down.

But it won’t be long, and we will be storming those prison walls to get Valerie out.

And then there’s South, sitting quietly on the other side of the room, his eyes staring blankly at nothing, still clearly lost in his own thoughts of losing Bella—the core reason Hurricane and Bayou’s visit here in the first place.

Banging my gavel, I glance out at my brothers.

“I think that went as well as can be expected. We have a few big days ahead of us. I need all of you to rest up. Keep up your strength, and lay off the alcohol if you can. We need to be on form for what is in store for us. All right, fuck off, all of you,” I tell them.

They all stand and start heading out, leaving me in the Chapel with Hurricane, Bayou, and Haven.

Letting out a long exhale, I turn to my fellow president. “Hurricane, thank you. For being here. For bringing Bayou. South needs to know he’s not alone in this.”

Hurricane’s expression softens slightly.

“Whether I like it or not, the kid’s family, Alpha.

What happened to Bella, watchin’ someone you love waste away from a disease like that, knowin’ there’s nothin’ you can do…

” He shakes his head. “Mom’s been torn up ’bout it too.

But her family back home in NOLA has been missin’ her.

She’s missin’ out on seein’ her grandbabies growin’ up.

I know she’s been feelin’ guilty for bein’ here instead of there.

But South needed her, and she was always gonna be here for him while Bella needed him. ”

Bayou nods in agreement. “Motor neuron disease is a cruel fucking thing. But Bella fought it with grace and dignity, and she made sure South knew he had her blessing to keep fighting. Still, Mom’s homesick.

She’s been talking about going back to New Awlins after this is over.

She misses feeling needed, misses her life there. Misses us. Fuck, we miss her too.”

“One war at a time,” I reply. “Let’s get through tonight first, but I’m never gonna stop Ingrid and South from going home if they want to.”

Hurricane smiles, and it’s as if I couldn’t have said anything better, then he and Bayou turn to leave.

As the room empties, I remain seated, staring at the map spread across the table.

Red pins mark each target location—Chicago, Houston, New Orleans, Tampa, Vegas, and LA.

Six points of attack against a network that’s been years in the making.

Haven appears beside me, her hand settling on my shoulder. “You okay?”

“No,” I answer honestly. “I’m about to send good men into harm’s way based on intel from an ex-Nest operative and the word of two disgruntled ex-prison guards. If I’m wrong, if this is some elaborate trap, I’m not just killing my own brothers, I’m destroying five other chapters.”

“And if you’re right?”

I look up at her, seeing the bird who’s become my anchor, my conscience, my strength. “Then maybe we save a lot of innocent people from becoming victims. Maybe we stop Javier before he builds something that can’t be torn down.”

She presses a kiss to my temple. “Then trust your instincts. Trust the intelligence. Trust your brothers.”

“I do trust them. That’s what makes this so hard.”

As the clubhouse settles into pre-mission quiet, I remain in the chapel, studying the map and the operational details. Trying hard to ensure I haven’t missed anything. Each pin represents not just a target, but a potential graveyard for brothers I’ve sworn to protect.

As the night progresses, I finally make my way downstairs.

The main room is filled with quiet conversations, last-minute gear checks, and the kind of nervous energy that comes before battle.

Some brothers are recording messages on their phones.

Final words for wives, children, parents who might never see them again.

I catch sight of South in the corner, staring at a photo of Bella.

Hurricane and Bayou flank him, their presence a silent reminder that he’s not facing this alone, even if they are leaving first thing in the morning.

Ingrid sits nearby with little Louis, the boy’s innocent presence a stark contrast to the violence we’re preparing for.

“Alpha.” Montana approaches, his expression grim. “Warden Garver just sent final confirmation. Guard rotations are confirmed, and Mom’s location is locked in. When we go in, we’ll know exactly where to find her.”

“And the other birds? The ones being held against their will?”

“Nighthawk’s identified at least twelve. Some are compliant due to threats against their families, and others have been drugged into submission. We extract them all, or we extract none.”

I nod. “Make sure the guys understand, civilians first, objectives second. We’re not sacrificing innocents for revenge.”

“Copy that, Pres.”

As I make my rounds, checking in with each brother, the weight of command settles deeper into my bones. These men trust me to lead them into battle and bring them home. The responsibility is crushing and clarifying at the same time.

At midnight, I climb back to the chapel for one final check of communications.

Each chapter confirms their preparations are on schedule, their intelligence is current, and their extraction routes are mapped.

The seventy-two-hour timeline gives everyone the breathing room they need for final preparations.

I lean back in my chair, staring at the map one final time.

Six targets.

Six chapters.

Dozens of brothers are putting their lives on the line based on my decision to trust intelligence and coordinate the largest operation in Defiance history.

But sometimes, leadership means making the hard call even when the stakes couldn’t be higher.

Sometimes, you have to be willing to risk everything to protect what matters most.

In seventy-two hours, Operation Darkfire begins.

And by the time the smoke clears, we’ll either be celebrating the end of The Rojas Cartel’s reign of terror, or we’ll be mourning brothers who died believing in a cause bigger than themselves.

Either way, there’s no turning back now.

When this is over, The Rojas Cartel will be nothing but a cautionary tale.

Or we will.