Watching the two of them sit on the balcony of Alex’s apartment, he was slightly taken back by how casual they were. Perhaps his insistence on their friendship was legitimate, and he was just looking out for her? She was a long way from home, in one of the most dangerous places she could be. Maybe he was just a concerned friend?

But something told him it was more than that.

An escalating confrontation between two drug empires fit Sam’s modus operandi, and Alan kept his eyes on Sam as Alex left.

He followed him back to the motel.

After a few hours, and with no movement, he made the call.

Two police cars arrived within minutes and three heavily armed officers laid siege to the room. Alan watched the door open and got out of the car as the first officer slammed an unsuspecting Sam Pope against the wall and slapped on the cuffs.

Only they didn’t act quick enough.

Sam lashed back, falling back into the room with the officer and then dragging his covering partner in. The door closed and Alan yelled at the final officer to head inside. Even with a shotgun planted in his hands, the officer looked terrified, but no matter how hard he shoved, the door wouldn’t open.

Alan didn’t need to think twice, and he set off in a sprint, his athletic body barging through the guests who had gathered outside their rooms to witness the commotion.

He was in no doubt that Sam had incapacitated the officers. Alan had seen the video from the High Five and read the files.

Sam Pope was a dangerous man.

Trained.

Lethal.

And hell bent on keeping his promise, it would seem.

As he rounded the side of the motel, he could make out the figure of Sam in the distance, ducking into the bushes and trees of the woodland that backed onto the motel and spread like wildfire towards the town itself.

He was gone.

For now.

But Alan knew that Sam wouldn’t go far. He would lie low, try to blend in. He’d spent a year as a sniper, so lying in wait in plain sight was his speciality.

Alan tried to call Sinclair once again, frowning as the call went to voicemail.

With a resigned sigh, Alan turned and headed back to his car, ignoring the recently arrived police who demanded an explanation. They hated having the DEA swarming over their town, especially when it threatened the profitable truce with the Riders.

But Alan didn’t care.

He needed to get back to town and cut Sam off before he burnt all their good work to the ground.

Chapter Fifteen