Page 22 of Forged

Morning comes too quickly.

Because I slept like a man who went to bed with a woman burned into his skin and woke up to a war waiting outside my door. I’m up before sunrise, showered, dressed and armed, my movements on autopilot.

Right now, I need to focus on Sera. Austin will not wait for me to get my dick under control, and Maravilla sure as hell won’t. Cash made that clear when his message came through at five a.m.

We’re moving early.

When Cash Calder says move, you show up.

The Lone Saints compound is already alive when I pull in—engines roaring, boots crunching gravel, voices sharp with purpose. This is what a real crew looks like before a mission—focused, coiled, hungry.

Cash stands on the steps, barking orders to two members who peel off toward the garage. Hale’s stationed near a folding table inside, satellite images and maps pinned down with ammo boxes. His hair is a mess again; that one stubborn piece hanging into his eyes like it always does.

Cash spots me and jerks his chin. “Marchetti. Good, you’re here. We’ve got a problem.”

I sigh. “Of course we do.”

I step in beside Hale and scan the intel. A route marked in red cuts through a rural stretch south of the city, an expanse of open land with sparse cover. Good territory for an ambush if you control the timing. Fatal if someone else does.

Hale taps the map. “Maravilla’s running a shipment through Bastrop today. Not drugs—guns. A lot of them.”

“Intel source?” I ask.

“We’ve received confirmation from two different sources,” Cash says. “One reliable. The other, I’d rather not discuss.”

Meaning someone close to Veleno has eyes on Maravilla.

I draw in a slow breath. “And you want to hit it?”

Cash nods once. “Hard.”

Hale looks up. “Recon says three vehicles. Two SUVs, one truck in the middle. Six men, minimum. Maybe eight if they pulled extras from Laredo.”

“Who’s leading?” I ask.

“Maravilla’s cousin,” Cash replies. “Not his smartest lieutenant.”

“So, we have an opportunity.”

“A small one,” Cash corrects.

His tone leaves no room for optimism. Maravilla has been pushing into Austin inch by inch. Sera’s been carving through his lieutenants two at a time. And Falco’s circling the whole thing like a vulture waiting for the kill.

This shipment isn’t just for the movement of product, it’s a test. Maravilla wants to see what the Saints will allow through their territory. He wants to find out if they will stand their ground or let them lay claim.

Hale drags a knuckle along the red route. “Intercept here, just before County Road Eighteen. One way in, one way out. Good choke point.”

“What’s the plan?” I ask.

Cash studies me, then steps back and folds his arms. “You tell us.”

The yard goes quiet. Now I’m the one being tested.

I lean in, studying the terrain—the angles, the blind spots, the staggered spacing of groups of trees. “There’ll be a scout SUV half a mile ahead. That vehicle goes first.”

Hale nods. “Agreed.”

“We hit it at the bend here,” I say, tapping the map. “Take the tires. Don’t kill the driver. We want their comms to be intact. I want to talk to him afterward.”