He wasn't just agitated. He was angry. I could see it in the way he moved—the jerky stops, the way he turned and shouted down at someone below him. His mouth moved. The words didn't carry the distance, but the body language was unmistakable: a man screaming at men who weren't performing to his standard.
I lowered the binoculars. Looked at the compound as a whole. Three patrol guards visible. Spur in the tower. Minimal vehicle movement. Two SUVs parked by the main building, from the convoy we chased an hour ago. The gate closed but unmanned from the outside.
Ghost mouthed what we were all thinking.
"Is that it? A skeleton crew?"
The question hung in the air between the four of us. Below, Declan had positioned himself between two rocks with the long rifle, his scope already trained on the compound. He hadn't spoken. He didn't need to. His scope was telling him the same thing our binoculars were.
I ran the possibilities. Either the Wolves were making themselves look small to draw us in—appearing weak, luring us onto their ground, with reinforcements hidden inside the buildings. Or this was real. This was all of them. The men who'd come to the cattle operation, minus the ones we'd killed and the driver I'd put a bullet through, were the only Wolves left in this compound.
The driver's last words surfaced. The sentence he'd never finished.
Better leader than that grave?—
Grave. Gravedigger. Victor Graves. President of the Iron Wolves. The man who'd led the Wolves through years of enforcement for corrupted federal agents, who'd been the muscle behind Cross and Holt and now Whitfield.
Was Gravedigger gone?
The pieces rearranged themselves in my mind. A skeleton crew. Spur screaming at the men he had left, the tension of a man holding together an operation that may have been coming apart. The convoy that had abandoned the rear van instead of fighting for it.
What if the rest of the Wolves weren't hiding inside? What if they were somewhere else entirely? What if Gravedigger had taken the bulk of his men and left Spur holding the compound with a skeleton force?
I pulled the encrypted phone from my jacket. Dialed Hawk. I switched to speaker and held it between the four of us.
Hawk picked up on the second ring. "Blade."
"We're on a hill six hundred yards from the Iron Wolves compound, outside Billings." I kept my voice low. "Hawk, I need to debrief you and I need permission to engage."
"Talk."
I gave him the short version. The cattle operation. The firefight. The workers and Logan taken by the Wolves. Thepursuit, the van seizure, the workers recovered and currently being driven back to the cattle ranch by Kai and Rosa. Irish and Logan both grazed by rounds but treated and mobile. Six dead Wolves buried far from the operation by some of Axel's team, who were now en route to our position.
"Logan is with you." Hawk's voice was neutral. Processing.
"He is. He's been in this since the beginning and he can fight."
A pause. Then: "What are you seeing at the compound?"
"That's what I need your read on. We're counting a skeleton crew. Three patrol guards, one man in the watchtower. Minimal movement. The man in the tower is the same one who led the assault at the ranch—big, bearded, piercings. A driver confirmed his name before I put him down. Spur." I paused. "The driver also started to say something else. 'Better leader than that grave—' and I think he meant Gravedigger. If Gravedigger has pulled out with his loyalists, this could be all that's left."
"Or it's a trap." Hawk's voice didn't waver.
"Or it's a trap. But, Hawk—Kai and Rosa are driving the workers back to the cattle ranch. The workers are not in the compound. If there's ever a time to use the RPGs and grenades, it's now. No risk of civilian casualties. And if this is a real skeleton crew, we have the advantage."
Silence stretched through the phone. I could hear Hawk breathing. The measured rhythm of a man running calculations that weighed the lives of every person on this hill.
"If the rest of the Wolves are out there, this might be the window to destroy their compound before they return," I added. "Retaliation while they're scattered."
More silence.
"I trust you, Diego." Hawk's voice dropped. The use of my real name deliberate—family, not club. "If you think the play is there, take it. But Declan stays as overwatch. Irish too—he'swounded, even if Kai's treated it. Irish signals if he sees Wolves heading back to the compound. If more bikes appear on that road, you pull out. Your team is small. You have firepower but not numbers. If the skeleton crew isn't real, retreat. Don't be a hero. Be smart."
"Copy."
"And Blade?—"
A rifle shot cracked the sky.
