“If it was the right move, I’d be all for it, but it’s not. We’ve left them alone for this long, and it’s throwing them off. We’ve been patient and have just picked off...how many?” He glances around, his fingers moving as he counts the bodies littering the floor. “Fifteen, at least?”
Viking agrees, confirming the count at sixteen Iron Fists total. The thought of killing sixteen people, even if they were evil, makes me feel sick to my stomach.
Odin carries on. “That’s blowback we’ve inflicted on them without them even being aware it was us doing it. They may suspect, but they have no way of proving it. Unless they were to all just show up right now or have spies in place.”
He glances at his fellow club members and then looks back to Nightmare, continuing. “You telling me that you can pull the same off by showing up at one of their clubs to get retaliation? You may cut the snake, but it won’t be the head brother. I don’t know about everyone else, but if we’re going after a snake, I want it dead. I’d rather plan to cut the entire fucking head off and not worry about it coming back around to sink its teeth into me.”
Brothers around the room murmur their agreement, and Viking gazes at his younger sibling, more like a proud poppa than a blood brother. “He’s right, Night.” The Prez agrees.
Mercenary cuts in. “What are we going to do with all these bodies? Anyone can walk in right now. I’m sure the first fucking bomb was them blowing a hole in the entry.”
Viking grunts. “You’re right, a big fucking hole’s there.” He glances at me, empathy in his gaze. He knows this place is my life. “O and Torch look for something to block the front from curious visitors. See if you can find some plywood or similar for the time being.”
They both stride off toward the front and Viking continues barking orders. “Saint and Sinner, make sure they’re all dead in here and anyone still breathing, tie them up.” He holds out some thick zip ties. The guys snatch them and take off to do as ordered.
“Nightmare, back the pickup to the loading bay door. We’ll get these bodies loaded that way.” He turns to an older man. “Smokey check supplies for the largest black trash bags you can find. We need something to wrap these bodies in. Oh, and some duct tape.”
“You got it, boss,” the old timer rasps.
“Mercenary, take your woman to her apartment to gather whatever belongings she needs. No more bullshitting around. She stays at the club until this is sorted. I knew I should’ve sent someone out here last night to get you guys to come back.”
I don’t have anything in me to fight him about it right now. My mind and body are still in shock over what just transpired here. Part of me is glad they’re here. Obviously, they have a better idea of what to do to take care of everything. I wouldn’t have a clue where to begin.
He gestures toward the back entry. “Chaos, start carrying the dead bodies to the bay door. They need to be wrapped and loaded. I’m going to find some mops and bleach buckets to get this shit show of evidence cleaned up.”
I listen to Viking still barking off orders as Mercenary leads me back to the stairs, ears still ringing from the blasts.