“Do not worry. There is no danger here. Not today. If there were,” he adds with a soft smile, “you would not have been invited inside.”
“About this intel?” Spike pushes.
“Right,” Luca says with a warm, deliberate smile. “We have a man on the inside working in very close proximity to the Los Fantasmas Don… Cortéz.” He taps two fingers against the arm of his chair. “He has sent us audio of Cortéz planning an attackon the Iron Shadows motorcycle clubandthe Italian Mafia… specifically those residing in the Palm Springs area.”
He gives a small shrug.
“You are welcome to listen to the audio. But it will tell you nothing I will not.”
Spike nods once, letting him continue.
“The Moretti family is large,” Luca goes on, settling deeper into his chair. “The Italian Mafia itself is more than triple in size than what we have here. We operate in many of the same ways you do…arms, narcotics…” He spreads his hands. “But we also keep our fingers in… many pots. Protection, business dealings, investments. Some legal. Some…eh,not so much.”
Maverick snorts quietly.
Luca leans back, folding his hands.
“For the most part, the Moretti Mafia is based throughout California. But whileIl Donhas chosen Palm Springs as a safe haven for some of the family, his true base of operations is in Los Angeles.”
“Why would he choose the desert as a safe haven?” Tank asks.
Luca laughs, a deep, genuine sound. “The heat. People avoid Palm Springs simply because it is too hot. Especially the location we chose.” He lifts a brow. “What better way to hide in plain sight than in a place people actively avoid,sì?”
“Smart,” I mutter. “You guys are practically in the middle of the desert out here. It took us an hour to get here, and I’m pretty sure my tires melted on the sand.”
Luca smirks. “The heat does not bother us. In Italy, we say…only the foolish stand in the sun without a purpose.Here?” He gestures broadly to the estate around us. “We have purpose. Our Don can simply exist. His closest family can live their lives in relative peace.”
His expression darkens.
“Which brings us back to the topic at hand… thethreatto that peace.”
“What else does the audio say?” Spike asks. “Do they admit how they plan to attack us?”
“Yes,” Luca says, his face turning grim. “By airstrike.”
“What?” Bones snarls. “They’re going to fucking bomb us?”
“Fuck,” Spike exhales. “Tank, get Knuckles on the phone and have him get everyone underground.”
“There is no need to rush them just yet,” Luca interrupts calmly, raising a hand. “We will be informed the moment moves are made. We also have people in air traffic control on our payroll. They have already been instructed to monitor for any uncharted aircraft heading in this direction.”
He leans forward slightly, voice lowering.
“However…Il Donhas extended an invitation for your club to join ourfamigliain our underground bomb shelters when the time comes.”
Spike nods respectfully. “We have one of our own, but… thank you.”
Maverick tilts his head. “Is it fortified against bombs, brother?”
Spike rubs a hand down his face. “I have no fucking clue.”
Luca speaks again, his tone shifting from polite to razor-sharp.
“There is… one more thing,” he says. “Something you must understand before we discuss defenses.”
Luca places a hand over his chest, fingers tapping twice…something I notice he’s done multiple times. A nervous tell perhaps? OCD?
“Our man inside Los Fantasmas uncovered something else. Very troubling.” He pauses, choosing his words with care. “Cortéz has… how you say…friendsin Palm Springs.”
