CHAPTER SIX
WHISKEY
WEDNESDAY EVENING
Bang! Slamming my gavel on the bowling lane turned table, I get everyone’s attention.
That’s right . . . the table we use for Church is a refurbished bowling lane.
When my Pops, uncle, and their three buddies turned this old meat processing factory into a clubhouse, they used as many of the materials left behind as they could.
Why there was a bowling lane inside a factory, I’m not sure, but they cut it in half, glued and screwed the pieces back together, and formed a seven foot wide by thirty foot long table from it.
This beauty has some dents and scratches and stains, but it has also been witness to some crazy times.
It’s strong and sturdy and holds up to the abuse of a bunch of rowdy bikers.
It was here before I was born, and will most likely still be here long after I’m gone.
“Church is now in session!” I yell across the room to quiet all the talking. Hammer just shut the doors and sat down so that means everyone who is supposed to be here, should be here. Looking around the table, I notice one empty chair.
“Saddle is still out of town at his folk’s place in Florida.” Steel, sitting just to my left, answers my question before I even have to ask it. “But I called him and he knows what’s goin’ on. He said he can come back if we need him.”
“Depending on what Cypher is about to tell us, he might need to book that flight.” I wave toward him as he opens the tablet in front of him.
Now normally, I do not allow any technology in this room.
When Church is in session, one of the Prospects is assigned to sitting at a small table right outside the doors, and all of our cell phones are dropped in a box as we enter.
Not that I believe that any of my Brothers would do anything to do anything that would jeopardize our club, I take zero risk at anyone’s devices being bugged.
We all try to be very careful who we come in contact with, but that doesn’t mean someone from the outside might try and hear something they shouldn’t.
The things discussed in this room are meant to stay in this room. Period. Point blank. No bullshit.
The exception rides with Cypher. As the club’s tech guy, I know his devices are clean and only used for club business.
He is the only person allowed to bring technology in this room.
Hell, he even runs the lights in this room.
If I tried to tell him to he couldn’t bring anything in, he’d probably sabotage the wiring and the rest of us would be stuck sitting in the dark.
He’s just that much of an asshole . . . but in a good way because he’s so damn smart.
He has also saved our asses way too many times to fuck with him, so I don’t even try.
“Alright Brothers, here’s what’s goin’ on. Drake Sanders . . .”
Other than Hammer, Steel, Haze, and Cypher, the rest of the club is out of the loop from what I found out this afternoon.
I fill in the group with what Rave told Haze and he fills in the blanks as needed.
Steel adds his knowledge of Drake during their joint time in prison, then it’s Cypher’s turn to fill us all in on what he’s learned.
After he left our impromptu meet-up earlier, he was able to pull information on the guys he was looking for in just a couple hours.
“This yahoos were so damn easy to find,” Cypher starts.
He clicks a button on his tablet’s keyboard, the front half of the room goes dark, and a projector in the ceiling kicks on to display what’s on his screen across the wall behind me.
Last fall he rewired the meeting room so he no longer has to get up and plug his devices in so we can see them.
He now can do it from anywhere in the room.
Like I said . . . he’s smarter than all of us—combined.
“Are they a club?” Haze asks from his spot about halfway down to my left.
“Not that I can find.” Cypher talks as he taps more keys. “And I even checked the FBI criminal organization database. They’re not acknowledged or recognized as anything by anybody.”
“Need me to call my guy at the bureau?” Trooper asks.
“Nah,” I reply. “Let’s see what we know before we start using outside sources. I don’t wanna raise any red flags if we can handle these guys on our own. The less the feds know, the better.”
Trooper came to us as a recently retired, very pissed off, federal agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
He is the one and only fed that I’ve met that I didn’t want to punch in the face, and that’s because he came highly recommended by my VP.
Steel met him during the time he was being sent to prison, and when Trooper became fed up—no pun intended—with how the justice system was handling the case, he quit the bureau and asked Steel if joining the club was an option.
I’m not going to lie, I was very hesitant at first, I didn’t even want to meet him, but when Steel asked me to give him one chance, I agreed to meet on neutral ground but went in with all my defenses up.
When we left that diner four hours later, I agreed to give him a shot as long as the other club officers agreed.
It took him a little longer to win some of them over, but by the time Steel was released from prison just over two years later, Trooper had gone through a grueling Prospect trial and was a fully patched Brother.
I spin my seat around so I can see what he’s showing.
“Meet the six employees of Gearhead’s Auto.
Drake, Dean, Harry, Jason, Josh, and Quinn.
It is located on the north side of Wisconsin Dells and they also all live in a house right across the street.
No club affiliations, but I don’t doubt for a second that they aren’t trying to be one.
None of us are squeaky clean, but these guys are what gives MCs a bad name.
Each one has a criminal record a mile long. ”
“Looks like two of them are brothers.” Steel says as he reads the short bios Cypher has listed below each of the six pictures on the screen.
“And how are they all connected? Is it just from working at this shop?”
“Nope. The shop was started only seven months ago, but they all have ties to each other through the Wisconsin Department of Corrections.” The pictures Cypher has of all six are their mugshots.
“Ray and I met Drake when we were in New Lisbon Correctional,” Steel tells the others.
“He was in a cell between us for a while and was loud and annoying as fuck. I don’t remember exactly what he did, but he pissed off the wrong person and got moved to a different block.
The last six or so months I was there, I never saw him again. ”
“He got moved ‘cause one of his visitors got caught smuggling in a phone,” Cypher fills in the gaps. “After that he was denied any visitors and moved to solitary. He got out a year ago.”
“Fuckin’ loser,” Brewer snaps a sharp laugh from down at the end.
“This whole crew is a bunch of losers.” Mountain adds. Everyone else does too.
“Where are these guys all from?” I ask because being in prison in this state doesn’t mean that you are actually from here. Where you do your crimes, along with overcrowding, can have you locked up far from home.
“They are from all over the Midwest.” The screen switches to a map.
There are five green dots. “Drake is Dean’s older brother.
They are from Wisconsin Dells. Best guess is everyone is there because of them.
Drake seems to be the leader and his name is listed as the owner of the business and the house they’re living in. ”
Steel shifts in his seat. “How do the rest fit in?”
“Only thing they all have in common is being in prison with another one of them. If I drew a line to connect each of them to another, it would look like a bunch of squiggly lines drew by a two year old.” Cypher switches the screen back to the six mugshots.
A red dot appears and he starts drawing lines.
“Drake served time with Harry and Jason. Dean overlaps with Harry and Quinn. Harry was in Waupun with Drake and Dean, but not at the same time. Jason crosses with Drake and Josh. Josh served time with Jason and Quinn. Then, last but certainly not least, Quinn was with Dean and Josh.”
“Holy fuck.” Tiny lets out a low, slow whistle. “They may be dumb for trying to mess with us, but they keep tabs on their buddies.”
“No kidding,” Cypher adds his agreement as the red lines disappear.
“And that’s not all I’ve learned about them.
Their new thing is robbery. There has also been an uptick in homes and businesses being broken into in the area since these idiots have been in business.
And those Harleys they were riding have all been reported stolen.
When I looked back at the bar’s outside security footage, all the bikes had plates, but they were all from different states. ”
“Don’t tell me they were stupid enough to leave the same plates on the same bikes they stole.” Smoke leans back, pulls the flathead screwdriver from his belt, and starts spinning it around his fingers like a baton.
“No. None of the plates match the bikes,” Cypher answers.
“Anything else you got for the class?” I ask as I spin back to face the table.
“Not unless you want a detailed bullet point list of all their crimes and charges.”
“How ‘bout a highlighted version?” Steel turns back too.
“Aggravated assault, aggravated battery, failure to pay child support, grand theft auto, domestic abuse, geriatric abuse, arson, kidnapping, robbery, armed robbery, fraud, attempted murder, tax evasion, forgery, sexual assault, rape, manslaughter—”
“Okay, okay, we get it.” I interrupt. “Very bad dudes who make us look like saints.”
“Why don’t we send a few of our guys down to the Dells to scout them out? They obviously rode up here to see at least one of our businesses, I don’t see why we can’t return the favor and do the same thing?” Hammer makes a good point.
“They saw more than just The Lodge.” Cypher says as he shuts the case on his tablet.
“I have them riding on front security cams riding around all over town. It’s like they rode in, made a couple laps, stopped at The Lodge for the one beer, then rode right back out.
Once they went west toward Henderson, they haven’t reappeared.
If they were smart, they woulda hit the highway and never looked back. ”
“I’m with Hammer.” I say as I look to my left and confirm with my VP. “Drive by sound like a good plan to you?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Alrighty, boys. Tomorrow morning then. Whose team wants to take a field trip?”
Ring raises his hand. “I got nothing on the books at the brewery or bar tomorrow. I’m in.”
“Ring’s Enforcer team is him, Wrecker, Cypher, Tiny, Smoke, and Mountain.” Hammer is the club’s Sergeant-at-Arms, so divvying all of us into teams with the greatest strengths and pairings is part of his job.
Tiny raises his hand. “Please tell me we’re taking the vans and that we don’t have to get our bikes out of storage. I’m too old and it’s too damn cold to ride that far.”
“I’m older than you are.” Mountain raises his hand too. “And I call shotgun.”
“Should we take one vehicle or two?” Ring asks.
“That’s up to you guys.” I reply, looking at Hammer.
“I suggest two. That way you can make multiple passes around their shop and they won’t see one vehicle multiple times.”
“Smart.” Ring nods.
Hammer laughs. “I am the SAA for a reason.”
“Smart Aleck Asshole?” Kraken cracks the joke and we all bust out laughing.
“Fuck you all.” Hammer flips us the double bird.
“I need a motion,” Brewer reminds the room.
“Motion to check out the Gearheads and see what we can find,” Smoke starts.
“I second.” Haze backs up his Old Man.
“Motion carried.” I grab my gavel and slam it down.
“Hammer and Ring, since Saddle isn’t here, you two are in charge of planning the route for tomorrow.
Get together with Cypher and look at the map he’s got put together.
Everyone else on Ring’s team, meet me, Cypher, and Hammer here in Church at eight a.m. We’ll give the plan a last minute once over, then you guys will head out. Sound good?”
A chorus of yup and yes and got it echo around the table.
“One last thing. This stays quiet until if and when we need to tell the families.” I slam the gavel one last time. “Meeting adjourned.”