Yellowstone: Wind in the Smoke

At the hotel where James St. Patrick lived, he was having a secret meeting with Tommy to discuss the recent hits on their business.

The attacks hadn't stopped, yet halting drug sales was not an option. If operations didn't resume soon, they would fail to meet their commitments to Los Lobos, the powerful Mexican cartel.

"I'm serious, that damn bastard is out to screw us," Tommy continued, insisting that Dante was behind the attacks.

That night, when an entire gang had been wiped out...

"The last thing we need right now is trouble with Dan. We won't resort to extremes unless we're desperate," James said, annoyed that Tommy couldn't understand the potential fallout. Attacking the Sons of Anarchy would spark a war between two powerful organizations.

Tommy believed Dante was orchestrating the hits on their operation. He suggested Dante was trying to destabilize their organization to take over their business with Felipe Lobos.

It seemed like a solid intuition, but Dante never hid his conflicts—he had nothing to conceal. While he had the distribution network and reputation to take over James's operation, doing so would be suicidal.

That's why Dante had assured James he would visit to settle their differences.

"He said he'd come to negotiate some issues," James murmured, skeptical but understanding that both sides needed this meeting to avoid escalating suspicions.

Tommy, always the cynic, replied, "He's probably coming to kill us. I'll hire the Jamaicans to cover our backs against the Sons of Anarchy."

"We'll have good security. Still, meeting the leader of the Sons of Anarchy for the first time rarely ends well," James said, aware of Dante's tendency to disguise himself during meetings. No one truly knew his face, but it was always clear if they were speaking to the real Dante or not.

The Sons of Anarchy were not just arms dealers—they were feared for their connections and their deadly efficiency in eliminating enemies.

No one in New York dared to challenge them, especially when the odds were always stacked against their adversaries.

"Let's not jump to conclusions. He's never shown his face to anyone. If he's offering us that level of trust, then we aren't his enemies."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Just a hunch. There are details we've overlooked. Let's focus on business for now."

...

At New York's airport, three black armored SUVs pulled up as Dante returned to the city.

The Sons of Anarchy were there to greet him as he disembarked from a commercial flight.

"I should buy a private jet," Dante muttered after stepping out of first class.

Crocodile, who accompanied him, replied modestly, "You'd need a good pilot for that."

"Got someone in mind?"

"My captain could do it. He spent five years overseas handling extraction missions," Crocodile suggested, vouching for his friend.

Dante nodded slightly, approving the idea, before turning to William, who greeted him with a wide smile. "Welcome back, boss."

"Even though it was just over a month, it feels different," Dante remarked as he climbed into one of the SUVs.

Susie followed him, her curiosity piqued by the level of security accompanying them.