“What about trying to insert someone into the Disciples?”
“Grayson and I talked about that,” Wrath answered. “Big T doesn’t trust prospects. He keeps them at arm’s length for up to three years. We don’t have that long to get someone on the inside.”
Fuse rubbed the back of his neck. “What about the FBI or ATF? Isn’t it their job to infiltrate the gangs?”
A series of negative comments slipped from those around the table. The Brethren’s history with the FBI had been spotty. When they were founded, the FBI Director had been a hundred percent behind their organization.
After he retired, his replacement had been anything but supportive. Quite the opposite. He’d gone behind Grayson’s back to the Secretary of the Navy, trying to get her backing to eliminate the elite undercover SEAL team. She’d listened to his bullet points before turning him down flat.
That’s when the idiot had done the unthinkable. The director had threatened to go to the President of the United States, knowing he’d never been made aware of the Eternal Brethren. Plausible deniability is what the director had been told. Before he could act on his threat, Grayson and the SECNAV eliminated the menace by bringing the president into their circle.
The result had been several minutes of stunned irritation, followed by two hours of questions. After three hours, they’d left the White House, the Brethren intact, and the FBI Director on all their shit lists.
Raider sat up straighter. “If we’re certain the warehouse is theirs, what about bugging the warehouse? There may be a way to do it without the bugs being detected, and they could be extended outside. We’ve got micro cameras I can mount in the trees, assuming there are some close enough to catch the action.”
Ghost turned toward Raider, their communications expert. “Sounds like a good idea to me, Prez. If there’s no way the Disciples can trace them to us, I don’t see a downside.”
“I agree,” Rock added. “We might get some good Intel.”
“Raider, I want you, Rock, and Ghost to recon the property. Have a full report to me tomorrow.” The three nodded, their minds already working through their upcoming recon.
“A couple more items before you’re excused. First, we have training rounds coming up.” Wrath wasn’t surprised at the groans from his men. “We’ve been on nonstop ops for the last six months. All play makes for a dull mind.” He chuckled at their sour expressions. To the Brethren, ops were the play, and formal training sessions represented everyday drudgery.
Tracker leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “All right, Prez. Lay it on us.”
“We’ve got three different re-certifications. Sea, air, land.” Another round of groans broke through the room. “All right, here it is.” Wrath passed around a schedule of training over the next quarter.
“These will be done in two-man teams. You’ll join up with others when you reach San Diego. The sessions are three days each, then you rotate to the next session. Sea and air take place in and around Coronado. You’ll be doing land training at White Eagle Training Center in eastern Arizona. When one two-person team finishes a segment, another will be sent over. This way, we’ll be down a total of six men at any one time.”
He gave the men a few minutes to look over the schedule. No one was exempt. Not even Wrath, although he’d be taking Cara and the twins to Coronado with him. She’d practiced law there before moving to Liberty Lake. The trip would allow her time to visit with the few friends still living there.
“Questions?” When no one spoke, Wrath continued. “The first two men, Tracker and Moses, fly to San Diego early Monday morning via Navy helo. You’ll start training that morning. Three days later, you’ll move from sea to air training, and the second team, Wrangler and Fuse, will take a helo over. If all goes as planned, everyone scheduled will have completed their training in a month. If there aren’t any questions, you’re dismissed.”
His phone rang as the men left. Checking the ID, he saw Admiral Grayson’s name. “Yes, sir.”
“We’ve got a problem, Commander. My staff has picked up chatter about Drago and Demons Blood.”
Wrath lowered himself into a chair, bracing himself. “What have they found?”
“Seems our friend has decided to take advantage of the Night Devils departure. Drago and Armando Quintero have been in contact.” Grayson mentioned the head of Nuevo León Cartel, one of the largest Mexican crime syndicates. He was also the father of Tracker’s