At exactly nine o’clock, ten men from the Iron Cross spilled from four black Humvees that had just entered the big, abandoned parking garage in a derelict part of the city. The Ravens had been waiting for fifteen minutes, their positions well chosen, their escape routes well protected, and their rides parked facing handlebars out so they could get out fast if they had to. Nick’s team couldn’t be seen, and hopefully wouldn’t have to be. But it was gold knowing they were there and that they were listening—Beckett and Marz had some kind of equipment that would enable that from a safe distance.
Feet spread, arms crossed, jaw set, Dare stood in front of several nondescript wooden crates filled with wood shavings, guns, and ammunition, Maverick and Phoenix at his sides, the rest of his men at his back.
The men from the Iron Cross had one obvious feature in common—most of them had shaved white heads. Which made their recruitment of the mostly black Church Gang members even more interesting, didn’t it? Not all gangs were racially exclusive, but Baltimore’s racial lines were generally pretty deeply drawn. Had been for as long as Dare had known the city, at least.
Wearing some kind of black military getup that didn’t look too different from the gear Nick’s guys had worn, the tallest of the men stepped forward. “I’m Dominic,” he said in a deep voice, soulless blue eyes like ice. “Who’s Phoenix?”
“That’s me,” Phoenix said with a nod, then he pointed to Dare. “This is our president, Dare. He’ll be handling the deal from here.”
Dominic’s gaze sliced to Dare, and he repeated the name as if it was something distasteful. The guy might’ve had a few inches on Dare, but Dare sure as shit didn’t scare easily, and he didn’t do intimidated at all. Not the way he’d grown up, and not the way he lived his life now. “I want your word, man to man, in front of all our combined people, that you’ll keep clear of our betting activity in the city,” Dare said.
“Which of your men is in charge of that here?” Dominic asked.
“That’s me,” Ike said, stepping up beside Maverick. Ike Young was pretty well known around the Baltimore underground for sports betting, so no doubt the Iron Cross already had a decent idea who he was. “I’ll do my job and stay out of your business if you give me the same respect.”
The two men eyeballed each other for a long moment, and then Dominic nodded. “You have our agreement. The Iron Cross isn’t interested in making enemies.” An agreement between outlaws might not seem like much, but reputation and your word mattered a fucking lot if you wanted to get deals done and keep other groups from stabbing you in the back.
“We’re glad to hear it. Then if you have our money, we assume you’d like to inspect the product,” Dare said.
Dominic held out a hand behind him, and one of the other guys slapped a thick envelope into his hand. “It’s the amount we agreed.” Dominic handed the package over, and Dare gave Phoenix a nod. The Road Captain got busy with a crowbar, popping the nailed lids off the crates—two of guns and one of ammo.
Dare then handed the envelope off, letting Phoenix double-check the amount, which should’ve been on the order of about fifteen grand. They could get a couple times retail on the Glocks, but the AKs didn’t go for more than five hundred on the street, and that was on a very good day. They’d been able to get these fuckers up to four hundred per. Tension hung in the air like a fog as Dominic and two of his men stepped to the crate and withdrew some of the unloaded weapons to inspect them.
“The Glocks are excellent quality. Not much used if ever,” one of Dominic’s men said.
“The AKs are good quality, too. Everything’s in good shape. And the promised ammo is all here,” another man said.
“We’re good,” Phoenix said from behind Dare, who gave a nod to confirm he’d heard.
“The crates are all yours,” Dare said. The man crouching near the ammo gave a nod and began resetting the lids. With a single tilt of his head, Dominic called a few other men forward. Two by two, they carted the crates to their waiting vehicles, packing them away in trunks as everyone watched.
Dominic turned to Dare. “We appreciate your making this happen.”
“We don’t want to make enemies either. With you or anyone in the city. We hope you and your people will take it as the good-faith gesture it is,” Dare said, nailing the guy with a stare. They were so close to being done with this that Dare could nearly taste it.
“We do, though it strikes me that there’s something else you could offer that would achieve that even more,” Dominic said.