Gypsy's Sin [Wind Riders MC]

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Gypsy is at the Airstrip 8 location at four in the morning, Tuesday. It is nothing more than a long narrow mesa, with vehicle access from the West and East. The trail from the West is easier on tires and suspension however. The mesa is in a shallow canyon with walls of other mesas rising above to the North and South. This is one of the reasons Gypsy has picked this spot, because the higher walls to the sides, will limit the visibility of explosions and gun fire. It would really suck to win this one-man ambush, and then get arrested.

It took nearly six hours to lay out the trip wires and claymores. If the normal amount of men is dispatched to this drug drop, he will be facing between ten and fifteen armed, seasoned enforcers, along with Orlin himself, and maybe one of his lieutenants.

Gypsy has lobbied several times that Orlin allow his lieutenants to handle these drops on their own, pointing out the obvious risk factors. As Gypsy expected from Orlin's personality, Orlin was a man who enjoyed such advice, and enjoyed turning it down even more. He was still young after all. It was best to be a hands-on leader as long as possible. Gypsy of course feigned disappointment in a dutiful manner.

For several more hours he hides guns in locations he is expected to be that night, and then walks the area, several times, memorizing features, such as large rocks which could offer cover, and shallows which could hide him.

By two in the afternoon, he is tired, slightly sun-burnt and confident that he understands the tactical aspects of Airstrip 8. He has plenty of digital photos of the area, as well as several from the vantage points on the higher mesas, looking down at Airstrip 8. GPS locations are recorded as well.

Getting back into his truck, he took off his hat, and drinks a whole bottle of water in one go, while turning on the air-conditioning. It is close to a hundred degrees out there now, and he makes sure that he isn't suffering from any aspects of heat stroke before he starts back down the trail. Blurred vision on these trails could mean a stranded truck.

Once he is back on interstate 8 heading west, he opens the truck up and presses the engine on the straight, empty blacktop. He reaches 200mph much faster than he expects and there is still room to climb, but he backs down. It's a very well built hot rod truck. Even with the new paint-job and normal tires though, it continues to remind him of the night he nearly lost Cyn to the animal mentality he is currently working against.

Back in El Cajon he enters the hotel room he rented, for a shower and shave. After putting on his black suit -- one of eight now hanging in his hacienda room's closet -- he packs up his work clothes and leaves the room. By five o'clock he is back in his room at the hacienda.

While making notes of his observations that day, his cell-phone rings and it is Orlin.

"Yes?" he answers.

"Are you on the grounds?" Orlin asked.

"For, perhaps another couple of hours, then I have plans. What can I do for you?"

"Yes, I know it is your day off, but it would be very beneficial if you could join a meeting in my office area."

"On my way," he said, and turned off his laptop, setting the security encryption feature.

Entering the room there is a man in one of the visitor chairs in front of the desk. One security man is at the entry door, with the door open, and another inside the room, close to the patio doors, which are also open.

Two thoughts pound into Gypsy's brain as he studies the man sitting in front of the desk, as he approaches. The first is, he doesn't like Orlin very much -- in fact he's quite hostile. And the second is, he's a cop. Probably DEA. Gypsy continues to examine the man as he passes to stand back beside Orlin.