Everyone’s tense as we pile into church, claiming our usual seats. Viking sent a massive text calling us here immediately.
Blaze shuffles in behind Chaos, the brothers’ hands loaded with various cups and two bottles, one of whiskey, another of moonshine. They sit and pass the cups to the sides, so everyone will have one. We all hurried rather than stopping for a drink like we normally do. I’ve only been here about four months now, but I’m quickly catching on to how things are run around here.
Nightmare lights a smoke and then puts his pack and zippo in the middle of the table. Various brothers reach for it. Smokey grabs it first, taking one, lighting it, and passing it on. Odin’s busily filling his tumbler half full of moonshine when Viking slams the gavel down.
“I called you all here for a reason,” the Prez grumbles, pulling us from the various distractions. “Torch was able to break one of the Iron Fists we collected from The Pit a couple of weeks back.”
We’re so silent, waiting with anticipation that you could hear a pin drop.
“We got a final location. I called up Ruger, and he was able to do a little recon. He confirmed the Fists’ location.”
Nightmare’s fist lands on the table. “Fuck, finally! It’s been three goddamn weeks since they blew up The Pit and I’m sick of fucking waiting.”
Viking nods. “I know brother, I know.”
Saint sits forward, eager. “What’s the plan, Vike?”
He lifts his hands up, conveying we need to chill the fuck out so he can finish speaking. “That’s exactly why I called you in here. We need to all agree on how we want to handle this. Their attacks were personal. Not only have they tormented the other charter, but they targeted you specifically, Night. You’re ol’ lady and your son, Maverick. They hurt my Cinderella, and you all know I will scalp a motherfucker that touches my ol’ lady. I want blood, as I’m sure all of you do. Blaze, they nearly killed you. Hell, they did kill Scot and Bronx. I say we make every last one of those motherfuckers bleed.”
Everyone nods their agreeance, and I speak up. “They targeted Chevelle too, for over a month now. She’s my ol’ lady, and I’ll do whatever I can to make them hurt.”
A few brothers cast surprised glances at me, but I see something only a few had offered me already—respect. Viking meets my gaze. “We can use all the help we can get.”
I take a swallow of the moonshine one of the brothers passed to me and then nod. He sets a phone on the table drawing everyone’s attention back to him. We’re forbidden to bring phones in this room, so this’ll be good, I’m sure.
“Spidey wants us to put him on speakerphone when we discuss what our plan is. He and Ruger have been working together on the recon of the Fists for us.” He hits a button and puts it on speaker.
“Yeah?” Spider barks into the phone.
“Spidey,” Viking speaks loudly. “We’re making plans, brother.”
“Bet, I’ve been thinking up scenarios since we last spoke on how to go about hitting all three of their clubs at once. I’m putting you guys on speaker as well. I have Exterminator beside me.”
“All right, what do you have for us?”
“From the cameras Ruger’s set up and Google satellites, I’ve been able to pick up fairly decent images of the buildings and the surrounding areas. When we hang up, I’ll send you an encrypted email with photos. Open it in my room on the blue laptop. It’s secure.”
Viking gestures to Torch, and he nods in agreement. “All right, I’ll have Torch go over it with me when we get out of Church.”
“So, we have a few options, but I’ll bring up the one I think will be the most successful. Oh, first of all, is Ares’ charter going to help out?”
“As far as I know, they are,” Viking mutters. I’ve learned that the Prez is decent friends with the Prez of the other charter about thirty minutes away. I’ve met the brothers from there on a few occasions. They seem like good guys.
“Perfect. So, the Fists have a smaller building that has around ten guys there at any given time. I’m certain this is where they keep the drugs they distribute. I think it would be smartest to have Ares clean up that mess when we hit the others. I’ll hack into one of the military’s drones and use that to take out the other building that houses their weapons. They keep another ten or fifteen guys at that one. I think these spots are more like warehouses that they always keep guarded.”
We all stare at the phone, eyes wide after hearing Spider declare he can hack into military grade weapons. The brothers have told me the guy is smart, but damn, that’s an entirely different level of genius.
He continues. “That’ll leave the main club open for you. The property is surrounded by an electric chain-link fence as the first line of defense. Odin should use his contact at the City and get a dump truck. You can ram through the fence, and a handful of the brothers can safely ride in the back. I’d bring a van to help haul the guys back home or something. If you go with this option, you need to come heavily armed and prepare for a fight. Even taking out the twenty or twenty-five at the other buildings, it leaves behind a good twenty or so at the main club.”
“Christ,” Viking gripes. “That plan actually sounds doable, and we have a chance at minimum injuries or blowback on our members.”
“Exactly,” Spider agrees.
It all sounds a bit nuts to me, but it’s one hell of a plan, that’s for sure.
Nightmare huffs. “I’m having flashbacks of our Mexico trip. Anything inside that fence we need to worry about besides a group of pissed off cunts posed as an MC club?”
I have no idea what he’s talking about, but it must’ve been bad by the ashen tone of his face.