CHAPTER NINE
WHISKEY
We don’t get back to the clubhouse until five o’clock.
The deputies were asking so many questions, then the fire marshal showed up and asked pretty much the same questions over again.
I tried to tell them I had no idea who bombed various vehicles at every single one of our businesses, but I know that they didn’t believe me. They all told me as such.
When I threatened to call our lawyer because they didn’t want to let me leave to take my traumatized wife home, Thomas intervened and said we could go under the condition that he would be stopping by tomorrow morning to ask more questions.
I have zero intention of talking to him when he arrives, but that will be a matter for him and Sal, our lawyer, to discuss.
After we got Angie and Lynn passed off to their husbands, and I told Trooper and Wrecker we would be following them home to make sure everyone made it safely, the four of us set off for the clubhouse.
When we finally get behind the closed gate, and locked inside, I am finally able to reread the wave of texts I had gotten while trying to ignore the million questions I was being asked while at the bakery.
I skimmed over all of them, but not trusting many of the people around me, I didn’t want to have my phone screen open any longer than I had to.
Texts came in from each of my Brothers at the different businesses. The general consensus is that the bombs, or explosives, and resulting fires, were contained to only vehicles parked outside. No buildings were damaged and no people were injured.
“Everyone is on lockdown if you haven’t figured that already.” I announce to the main room full of Brothers, Old Ladies, kids, club girls, and Prospects. “Is there anyone who lives off-site that hasn’t been escorted in?”
“Other than Saddle who is on a plane probably somewhere over Tennessee by now, everyone is here and accounted for,” Steel says as he walks across the room to stand by my side.
“His truck is at the airport, so he’ll call when he’s on his way home and we will send backup to meet him at the county line. ”
“Sounds good. Everyone take a couple hours to get settled and grab something to eat. A few of the Old Ladies have been cooking us something that smells fucking delicious, so thank them for that. Otherwise, stay inside. Brothers, Church is called for seven o’clock.”
Those two hours fly by. The next thing I know I’m calling Church to order. Good fucking grief. It feels like I was just doing this yesterday. It was actually three days ago on Friday, and two days before that on Wednesday, but now it’s Monday and this is not a normal day for us to be in this room.
“I had the fire marshal and deputies asking too many questions, most of which I couldn’t answer.” I start to explain to everyone. “Some I really didn’t even know how to reply to because I actually didn’t have answers, but I still kept my suspicions to myself.”
“We had deputies and a couple state troopers at The Lodge and brewery,” Brewer adds in. “Two explosions in one parking lot, they were pretty pissed that I wasn’t giving them any ideas on who did it.”
“I can imagine so.”
“And let’s start a list of what was damaged and where. Then I can start looking into getting replacements for everyone.”
“Well, the name on the intake slip for the junker on the yard came back as a phony,” Cypher states.
“I looked at the security footage and the tow trucker driver is one we’ve seen before.
I called him and he said he got a call from a guys saying it had to be towed today because it was blocking his driveway.
He gave me the number he got from the customer.
It was disconnected by the time I tried to trace it. Probably was a burner.”
“They got Duchess’s truck at the bakery. Luckily, she wasn’t any closer to the building, otherwise the fire could have jumped and the whole block woulda gone up. The gas meter is on the back of the building right by where she parks.” I give my report.
“It was my truck at the tattoo shop,” Buzz announces.
“The car at The Lodge was Cinnamon’s,” Smoke shares. “We gave her a ride home when we went to pick up Raven.”
“We’re gonna need a new box truck for the brewery,” Ring says.
“And we just got that damn thing less than a year ago,” Brewer adds.
“The only place with nothing was Rebel Repairs,” Steel gives the one piece of good news in this shit storm.
“My guess is they didn’t hit there because it’s attached to the compound.
Either they were too dumb to realize the buildings aren’t connected, or they didn’t want to risk the shop going up too. Who fucking knows.”
“Do we know for sure that it was the Gearheads idiots?” Hammer asks Cypher who has had his nose buried in his laptop this whole time.
“It was.” He doesn’t stop tapping the keys.
“I could show you someone sneaking around all our properties and sticking something under all the vehicles by the gas tanks, minus the junker, but it really would be just a waste of time. It was one guy. Josh. Idiot number five. He’s a stealthy mother fucker too.
Had I not known where to look and been zooming in, looking for someone, I never would have seen him just normally scrolling through footage. ”
Steel calls for suggestions from the room on how to proceed.
Mountain slams his fist on the table. “We know where they’re living. We’ve seen all six of them when we made our two trips down. I say we send a team to go scoop them up, then take them out to the barn. Maybe we can hang a few of them over The Pit and watch ‘em squirm before we turn ‘em into ash.”
Ring bangs his fist on the table too. “I second.”
“Anyone opposed?” I ask.
“That technically wasn’t a vote.” Brewer pipes up.
“I motion we scoop up every single one of those fuckwads and get them better acquainted with The Pit. Is that better, Mr. Secretary?” My Pops asks with the heaviest sarcasm.
“Yup.”
“I second.” Ring repeats.
“All in favor?” I lift my gavel.
“Aye!” All the Brothers say at once.
“Any objections?” is met with silence.
I slam the gavel. “The ayes have it.”
“Let’s make a plan, Brothers.”
Our caravan rolled out at midnight. With a two hour drive ahead of us to Wisconsin Dells, we decided to wait until it was late enough that we didn’t think any law enforcement would be watching for us.
Hammer and Buzz wanted to test the theory so they took Angel’s minivan and drove down the road toward town, then circled back and double backed the other way too.
They didn’t see any law enforcement vehicles waiting for us, so they said the coast was clear.
We are almost at our destination to grab six men, and we have a total of fifteen of us heading south.
Our convoy consists of three trucks and two vans, each carrying three of us.
With the plan to have two guys tasked with securing each idiot, plus a few extra for to watch our backs and be drivers, we are more than prepared.
On the way home, each van will bring back three Gearheads.
We finally reach the street we’re looking for and roll up with the headlights off, parking a few houses down in both directions. Leaving a couple drivers behind in case we need a quick getaway, the rest of us approach the house.
We spot two guys are on the front porch immediately.
They see us too rush toward us, not noticing the crowd headed their way because of the lack of working streetlights.
They are quickly overpowered and restrained face down in the front yard in less than a minute.
Buzz, Diego, and Mountain stay to watch those two while the rest of us split up.
My half of the group circles around to the back door, and as soon as we hear the crash of the front door being kicked open, Steel does the same to the back door and we file in, guns drawn.
Steel is the first to fire. His bullet hits one guy in the shoulder. Harry. Idiot number three. He goes down and is tackled by Steel and Haze.
I see movement to my right just as another idiot appears from what I now see is a bathroom.
Quickly holstering the gun in my right hand, I grab him by the throat with my left.
His arms start swinging and he tries to push me away, but Tiny steps up and kicks him in the side of the knee.
I hear a snap, the guy screams in agony, albeit almost muted because of my fist blocking his airway, and he crumples to the floor.
Tiny uses his zip ties and bundles the guy’s wrists and ankles, then hefts him over his shoulder and out into the dark they go. Quinn. Idiot number six.
Looking around the kitchen, I don’t see anyone else, but I do hear a bunch of heavy breathing and grunts coming from the front of the house.
Gun back in hand, I head down the hallway and come to find one Gearheads tied up and face down on the living room carpet, another is shot in the chest and dead.
Drake and Dean. Idiots and brothers numbers one and two.
That means the two idiots we met on the front lawn were Jason and Josh. Idiots four and five.
Cypher jogs in the front door. ”Is this everyone?” He lifts the three unconscious guy’s heads one by one, looks at the tablet in his other hand, then nods. “All the faces match the guys who were at The Lodge. Their names also match the Department of Corrections info I dug up. We got ‘em all.”
“One dead. Five still breathing.” Even know I know everyone knows how to count, I still need to say it out loud. “Good job, Brothers.”
“Let’s get this show on the road.” Steel cracks an evil laugh. “We’ve got some work to do.”
The clock on the dash reads 2:27 a.m. when I press the start button in my truck.
Not to toot our own horn, but that was not a bad turnaround. That’s why the Rebel Vipers MC is the best at what we do—fuck with us and you get bit.