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Chapter 166 - The Quiet Road
In the open space before Dante, a large wolf—almost as big as a leopard—staggered toward him, baring its sharp fangs and revealing its long, blood-red tongue.
This was an old wolf, as indicated by the silver fur beneath its ears. At least, that's what Dante had learned from his family over the years.
But he didn't underestimate this old wolf, as his sharp instincts told him that it concealed a fierce nature.
Throughout the time he had tracked it, Dante had noticed that the wolf detested the cold, yet it still ran tirelessly, hunting any prey that could sustain it for days.
This time, the wolf seemed to have noticed something. It lifted its head, took a few steps, then stopped again, pointing its nose toward the ground as if sniffing for something.
Suddenly, it twitched the tip of its long nose and took a deep sniff of the wind. It jumped nervously onto its front paws, its ears perked up, and its fur bristled.
Regardless of the harsh northern wind, it sped up like a mad beast.
As it moved, Dante—hidden in the snow and aiming at it with a sniper rifle—pulled the trigger.
Bang!
This wolf was bloodthirsty. It had killed a considerable amount of livestock, only eating half of what it hunted. For a creature that wasted food like that, there was no reason to let it live.
"I guess that's it." With his hunt finished, Dante returned to his cabin to pack his things.
On his way back, he spotted a man in a thick white coat and asked, "How long have you been here?"
"Not long, sir." William, who had been providing Dante with weekly reports, opened the cabin door and stepped inside.
Inside, a fireplace burned with a faint flame. As soon as he entered, he added dry wood from the pile nearby, making the fire grow stronger.
"How is my family?" Dante's hoarse voice began to clear as the warmth took effect on his body.
"They're fine. As you ordered, we unified the mercenaries that the Beck brothers had been using for their shady dealings."
"They accepted without resistance?" Dante remembered that those mercenaries weren't the kind to surrender easily.
"We didn't give them a choice," William replied with a professional smile.
"Any updates on Ghost?"
"He keeps insisting that he wants to meet with you, but as always, we tell him it will happen when the time is right."
"The truth is, I don't want to expose myself too much to the FBI right now. I'm sure they have a profile on my operations." Dante knew that ever since his last deal with an FBI agent, things had escalated further.
This would play out on his terms, but for an FBI unit operating abroad, having a group of American mercenaries to do their dirty work without leaving a trace would be useful.
In that case, Dante wanted to hold the winning hand in any future negotiations. But for now, with problems still to solve, he had to focus on his organization first.
"The cabins on the ranch have been completed, so it's time to return, sir," said William, who had felt the immense pressure of leadership ever since Dante left the organization in his hands.
"Yeah, I suppose you're right."
New York, FBI Headquarters
"Have you made any progress identifying Ghost's new distributor?"
Angela Valdez had hit a roadblock in her investigation, and that roadblock was Ghost's new distributor in New York. She hadn't been able to find any trace of him for a long time.
"Our contact says Ghost's organization has partnered with a powerful distributor who replaced Felipe Lobos in all his operations across the country. If we can find out when, how, and where their meeting will take place, we can arrest them all at once." Angela Valdez was confident she could do it—she just needed time.
"All of Felipe Lobos' operations have come to a halt, and after what happened near the border, it's as if he vanished. This is our last chance to continue dedicating resources to this case." The agency was running out of time. If they didn't get satisfactory results soon, everything invested in the case would be abandoned.
"I'll figure it out…" Angela was under pressure, unsure of where to take the investigation next.
Truth be told, she also didn't understand how SAMCRO was involved in everything leading her to Ghost and Felipe Lobos.
Chicago, Private Residential Building
"They're not responding?"
"We're only getting responses from the European circle, but nothing from America…"
Jason Micic frowned upon hearing that communications with the Twelve Monkeys had become unstable in Mexico. Something wasn't right.
As a Serbian drug trafficker based in Chicago, Jason was the primary supplier for New York's Serbian drug network, led by Milan. However, SAMCRO's expansion was affecting his distribution and control in the city.
According to his research, what had started as a biker club in New York had transformed into a criminal structure challenging established organizations across the country. If their growth wasn't stopped, Serbian operations in Chicago would soon be at risk too.
To counter their influence, Jason and other key underworld figures had backed a new group: the Twelve Monkeys. This organization was formed by ex-military operatives, mercenaries, and rogue hitmen from various Latin American and Balkan factions.
Their structure was decentralized, with autonomous cells specializing in assassinations, extortion, and drug trafficking. Unlike other cartels, the Twelve Monkeys operated with paramilitary discipline and an absolute code of silence.
It wasn't long before they caught the attention of certain Mexican cartels—sworn enemies of Felipe Lobos, a powerful drug lord who had allied with SAMCRO to ensure the flow of drugs and weapons between the border and the U.S. interior. The rivalry between Lobos and these cartels had escalated over the years, and SAMCRO's arrival in Mexico posed an even greater threat to their operations.
Some of the groups that joined the Twelve Monkeys were old enemies of Lobos. They included the sons of fallen cartel bosses, eager for revenge and a chance to reclaim lost power. Others had been displaced by Lobos' dominance and saw the war against SAMCRO as an opportunity to regain control.
Initially, united by a common enemy, the Twelve Monkeys and these cartels began coordinating targeted attacks on SAMCRO's supply routes, disrupting their logistics and assassinating key members.
What Jason hadn't anticipated was that SAMCRO would prove far stronger than expected. Instead of weakening, the bikers responded with brutal force, hitting the Twelve Monkeys where it hurt most—eliminating their leaders and sabotaging their operations. Their alliance with Felipe Lobos was also stronger than anticipated, allowing SAMCRO to receive reinforcements and weapons at a pace that exceeded Jason's and his allies' expectations.
Now, with communication lines cut off and silence from Mexico, Jason began to wonder if he had made a mistake underestimating SAMCRO.
"What the hell is going on?" Jason muttered as a sense of unease took hold of him.
"We have a detailed profile on that man. I recommend we relocate to a secure safe house until we're sure we won't be SAMCRO's next target. A direct attack would be too much for us to handle."
"I'm not hiding. Not when I have the power to fight."
"Contact my allies. We need to set a trap for SAMCRO and make them clash with the Russians."
"Yes, sir."