Next thing he knew, loud pops started coming from the other direction and it was his tire that blew, sending the bike spinning and him to the ground.
Buddha and Mace hit their brakes and flipped around, now shooting at the van’s windshield and shattering it. Torch hurriedly swapped magazines and bolted over to his bike, staying as low to the ground as his frame allowed. His downed Harley wouldn’t be much of a shield, but it was better than nothing.
Or not. The van stopped and five men wearing ski masks jumped out—guns blazing—but for some reason, they were shooting at the ground instead of their heads.
What the goddamn fuck was going on?
“Hold your fucking fire or you’re all dead!” one of the assholes yelled out.
They didn’t have much of a choice, they were outnumbered and the fuckers were carrying high-capacity AK’s. Three of the masked men split off, each walking over and holding a brother at gunpoint. Mace and Buddha got pulled off their bikes and ordered to the ground.
The two other assailants sauntered over to Torch’s Harley and tore into his leather saddlebags. He had no idea what the hell they were looking for, all he had in there were a few toiletries and dirty clothes from the day before.
Not finding whatever they were after in his, they moved on to Mace’s saddlebags and did the same thing. Same result. Buddha was last, they had to pry his hard-shell cases open with a screwdriver.
One of the men pulled out a black drawstring bag and looked inside. “Got it,” he told his lackeys.
And just like that, they were done. They walked back towards the van, the three who had held them off moving backwards with their guns still trained on them. They jumped in the back, pulled the doors closed, and immediately took off the way they came.
Torch was fucking dumbstruck as he eyed the van and watched it drive away. There were no identifying marks on it and the plate was missing. The only clue as to who the fuckers were was that they’d gotten back on the highway going north, which meant they were either passing through Colorado or based there.
Little good that knowledge would fucking do them though.
He jumped to his feet and jogged over to his brothers. “What the fuck just happened?” he demanded. Neither seemed to have an answer, so he turned his attention to the one who seemed a little more nervous than the other. “What do you know? You look shifty,” he growled at Buddha.
Buddha rubbed his bald head. “I don’t know who those assholes were—”
“Let’s start with what they took. What the fuck was in that bag, man?”
“Torch, it’s not what you think—”
“I don’t know what the fuck to think!” he roared.
Buddha exhaled and stood up. “Gold coins. 1907 Saint-Gaudens Double Eagles in mint condition.”
Torch glared at him. “Coins? Are you fucking serious? We got ambushed over some goddamn collector shit?!”
“It was more than some low-level collector shit, twenty-five pieces valued at ten grand each. They only minted twelve thousand that year, it’s a haul.”
“Jesus Christ. What the fuck were you thinking trying to sneak something worth a quarter mill without a heads up? If we’d known we could’ve brought more bodies and firepower. Is that why you had to stop in Santa Fe? It was a pick up?
“Yeah,” Buddha murmured.
Torch fisted his hair so hard he could feel strands tearing out of his scalp. “How much fucking cash were you carrying on our way out?”
“A hundred grand. An old friend had to liquidate some assets quick and I lined up a buyer in Denver. He’s a legit collector, the coins weren’t hot or anything. It was just supposed to be a quick flip, pick up in Santa Fe today and drop off in Denver tomorrow.”
“That fucking worked out.”
“Son—”
“Don’t fucking son me,” Torch cut in, clenching his jaw to stop himself from shattering Buddha’s. Mace was watching with a frown but kept his distance.
“So this was supposed to be some under-the-radar shit, huh?” Torch kept pushing. “When did you start going around the table and making your own deals?”
“This was a personal sale to pay off a personal debt that’s got nothing to do with the club. I wasn’t running anything that could bring heat, coin collecting isn’t illegal. I’ve got no idea how anybody found out, never mind some fucking hit squad.”
Illegal or not, the son of a bitch was moving two hundred and fifty grand in