Torres is already there when I arrive. He exits his Bentley as I walk to him.
Pulling my sunglasses off, I say, “I’m intrigued as to what information you have for me.” In the seven years we’ve worked together, he’s not once called me for this kind of meeting.
He pulls his dark glasses off, too, and I’m struck by the serious expression on his face. “It’s the kind of information that may save your club.”
Fuck.
Now I’m all fucking ears.
“Go on.”
“I had a meeting with Silver Hell this morning. They want to do business with the cartel.”
“What kind of business?”
His eyes bore into me. “They want the cartel to switch all our business with you to them.”
Motherfuckers.
“And?”
“You and I have built a strong relationship. A loyal one. That’s not something I take lightly. I said no.”
“I appreciate that, Javier. And I feel the same way.”
“That’s not all, though. They had someone else with them. A man by the name of Bourne. He’s the leader of—”
“Zenith.” My mind connects dots it’s been frantically trying to connect for a long time. “Silver Hell is financing them.”
“Yes.” He pauses. “They’re both determined to wipe King off the map. And while I’m not a fan of King’s, I refuse to see you and your club go down.” He hands me a folder. “This is all the information you need to deal with this once and for all.”
I flick the folder open and skim over the information inside. “How the fuck did you get all this?” It’s everything about Bourne and his location in Brisbane. Both fucking locations, which means we finally have the second one we’ve been searching for over the last couple of weeks.
“You recall all the information the cartel required from you before we agreed to meet that first time? This is what they had to give me to arrange a face-to-face.”
I hold the folder up. “This won’t ever be forgotten, Javier.”
“Let’s hope I never have to call the favour in,” he says before sliding his glasses back into place. “I’ll be in touch tomorrow about the delivery.”
He gets back in his Bentley and leaves while I pull out my phone and call King.
“Yeah?” he answers.
“I just met with Torres and he gave me Bourne’s information, including his location. He also told me Silver Hell is financing Zenith.”
“Fucking hell,” King says as he exhales.
“I’m heading back to the clubhouse now. You still there?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. We’re gonna make a plan to wipe all these motherfuckers out.”
I’ll fly to Sydney tomorrow afternoon and spend Christmas with Birdie’s family, and then I’ll leave Boxing Day to put our plan into place. Soon, this shit will all be over.
38
Birdie