Live For It

|16|

Eleven men filled the tension-flooded conference room. 

Matteo was staring at the side of his brother's head, wondering what was going on in that crazed mind of his. Zion could feel the gaze but ignored it as he listened to Frederico Gomez explain his plan for the stock issues, Santiago Sanchez adding in essential and sufficient points here and there. 

"We would have some of my men lining the doors at each time..."

"Adding to the shipment..."

"Decreasing the chance of more..."

The words were blurring together in a pool of noise in Matteo's mind as the one question kept pulling itself from the drowning mess. 

"Okay, say we go through with it. How do we know for sure that the attack will be successful?" Liam asked, wondering what they all had been thinking. 

"If all goes planned, it will be quick and efficient. In and out. You would have to be quiet and quick, easily hidden. Their protection doesn't fuck around," Sanchez answered, a ghost of a snarl trying to hide among his deep accent. "The odds are in our favor for this one."

"Why would they keep the stolen stocks while they were close to us? They have cargo shipping docks all over the country, why keep what's ours near us?" Inan questioned, to no one in particular, trying to make sure this was a solid layout before they went in and agreed with it. 

"They're waiting. Alphonzo's been slacking ever since his daughter went missing," Sanchez's mention of her had Rico's eyes changing, and only a few of the men noticed, "He's waiting for the right chance to get a blow on the offers. No money, no business. No business, no progression."

Ren caught on faster than the others, "He's keeping our bricks near us because he doesn't have room to move them. He's not selling any of his own, so all his docks are full."

Sanchez nodded, his dark eyes trailing back to the man concentrating at the head of the table, Zion.

"We have a week until there's a chance of a new client offer," Sanchez looked down to the list of the Di Maggio clients and the percentages on the table in front of him. 

"You want to get back what they stole, this is the way to do it. I remember a bit from working in the warehouses when I was there, but Flynn knows more about the guard rounds," Gomez states, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair. The look in his hazel eyes was promising, but not enough certainty to pull them in. Flynn ran a hand through his hair and looked around the table. 

"I've already shared the rest of the intel I know. Only guards stationed at the specific warehouses were permitted to learning the shift times," Flynn informed, shaking his head slightly in defeat. He didn't have any more information to give. He would if he could, but they wouldn't go in empty-handed. 

Zion met the green-eyed man's gaze, and there was something he was questioning in it. 

"I know they have an entire binder filled with pages of times and names of the guards, along with the openings and closings of the gates. There's no way to breach it from here," Rico added, a few of the men sharing a glance. Flynn's head snapped up when he realized something. 

They wouldn't keep it in a place as vulnerable as the house; they wouldn't keep any of their binders there. 

"You said earlier that they keep their logs in the main base near the residence?" Flynn wanted to check before he started assuming. Rico turned to him and nodded, his expression forming curiously. 

"There's one person who knows the landscaping and the property maps better than anyone," Flynn started, turning his head to Zion again, hinting at something.