Leo didn't flinch. Living on the streets had stripped him of his fear a long time ago. He had already faced the worst the world had to offer. "If they're coming for me, let them come. But they won't stop with me, will they?
They'll keep taking kids from that playground until someone cuts the head off the snake. I've seen them before. Not just the Suburban, but a blue van and a silver sedan. They operate out of the industrial district. I've seen the way they switch plates under the bridge."
Jax's flinty eyes sparked with a newfound respect. "That's what I was hoping you'd say. We don't just defend our walls, Leo. We make sure the people behind this can't keep operating. You saw that SUV before anyone else in this city did.
You have an eye for detail. Can you help us find where they're hiding the rest of their operation? If we wait for them to strike again, more people could get hurt. We need to find where they're operating and get the right people there."
For the next eight hours, Leo sat with the club's tech specialist, a biker named Static. Together, they traced the route of the Suburban using available traffic footage, club surveillance, police bulletins, and Leo's encyclopedic knowledge of the city's back alleys and hidden routes. Leo's mind worked like a map. He remembered seeing that same black SUV parked near an old abandoned cold storage warehouse in the industrial district near Pier 19, a place the homeless avoided because of the armed guards who patrolled the perimeter with dogs. He described the patterns he had noticed around the building, including when vehicles usually arrived and which parts of the property stayed active after midnight.
"There," Leo pointed at a flickering screen showing a grainy overhead shot. "That's the spot. Pier 19. They move the vehicles in and out before dawn when the harbor is quiet. I've watched them from the old shipyard across the way.