17. Skyhigh
17
SKYHIGH
“Mr. Chafik, I appreciate the meeting. I know you’re a busy man.”
It's always fucking weird to hear Hellfire when he’s in business mode, instead of swearing like a motherfucking biker. But this partnership is still in its early stages and everyone is on their best behavior. Except for whoever’s fucking us all over, I guess.
Hamid Chafik is a criminal. No doubt about that. But at the end of the day, who in this room isn’t?
He was one of Victor Kane's contacts up until we took down Kane and his operation. Chafik swept in and mopped up all the loose parts, forming them into a new, more professional outfit. One more focused on the business and less on his own reputation. It was impressive how quickly he did it, filling the vacuum left behind to become the new top dog if you wanted fancy weaponry and equipment around here. We braced for war when he showed up, but he stretched out a hand.
“Hellfire.” Chafik nods in acknowledgment and settles his powerful body in his chair. He's got the build of someone who used to really fit, but hasn’t had to prove it in years. Soft strong, one of my old Army buddies called it. “I’ve been expecting you.”
To say we have a strong partnership is stretching it, but he’s not trying to blow up the club with a cruise missile so it beats the last guy. Baby steps.
Hellfire nods his head in my direction. “My officer Skyhigh will give you the rundown.”
As the newest appointed officer in the club, even if this isn’t directly a test, it sure as hell feels like it. I joined the Army because I grew up in construction and wanted to specialize in demolition. I thought the military would give me access to better education and opportunities, but all I walked away with was PTSD, a deep hatred of authority, and a set of skills that doesn’t translate well to the civilian world. I want to blow shit up, not do presentations, but even bikers have to do shit they don’t like sometimes.
“Right.” I throw a glance at Hellfire, who nods, and at Savage—one of our VPs—who's sitting next to him with Blackout and Dragon standing behind them as muscle.
Fuck it. I've handled fresh recruits with the survival instincts of lemmings. I can handle this.
I start with the attack we fended off at the drop, and what we learned after capturing two of the men at the follow-up attack on our handover. Chafik listens, elbows on his desk and hands folded. He doesn’t so much as twitch. It’s fucking creepy. “Long story short, we think there’s a leak, and it’s not on our end.”
That gets a reaction. Chafik leans back in his chair and scowls. “That’s a very big accusation for you to be making sitting inside the heart of my operation.” It's subtle, but I haven’t lived this long without learning to recognize the slight shift in his bodyguards’ posture that signals prep for potential action.
He’s not wrong. This place is a fucking state of the art weapons research plant dressed up like a rich playboy’s mansion. I would give my left nut to get free run of the building and see what he’s hiding in the basement. Poe, our resident tech geek, would have a fucking field day.
Everything is for show. The outside looks like your typical showy billionaire’s idea of class, but I don’t get that vibe from Chafik himself. I bet his actual living space is minimal, elegant and efficient.
I hold up my hands, palms forward. “No insult intended. I’m sure your core team is airtight, but you’re new in town. That means a lot of new hires, and that’s always going to be a potential risk. Maybe I’m wrong. If I am, I’ll own up to it, but to work together we need to say it like it fucking is. Someone is slipping information to the local vultures.”
The deep frown on Chafik's face tightens. But when one of his guys twitches, Chafik gives the slightest of headshakes and the guy's back in line in a microsecond. He's got his dogs well trained, that's for fucking sure.
“So say you’re right. What do you suppose their goal is?”
“Money? That's at the core of fucking everything, isn't it? But…” I hesitate, less sure about my other theory. “They could just be pissed that we’re working together. Mob tried to move in last year and we put down the first idiot they sent our way, but that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t try to sabotage something that could give us more power.”
Chafik nods thoughtfully. “So by that logic, it has more to do with you than with me and you should be looking within your own ranks for the problem. With such young leadership…”
Heat flares up inside me at even the goddamn implication that our own men have sold us out, but I push it down. This is part of showing that I'm fucking capable. If I blow up on this guy and fuck up the tenuous relationship we've got going, I'm going to fuck things up for the club. And I'm not gonna be that fucking guy.
Fortunately, I don’t have to.
Hellfire sits up, murder in his eyes. “You’re new, so let me get you up to speed. Three years ago I took over this club because our former president was assassinated by a guy who wanted the job I have now. I won’t bore you with the details, but we expanded too much, too fast and paid the fucking price in blood. I’m the one sitting here today because I weighed the loyalty of every single fucking man in my operation and put down the traitors personally.”
That day is still etched in my memory, as it is for all of us that were there. The sound of his boots on the floor of the old gym. The look on Bonnie’s face as she stared down the man responsible for General’s death. The blood on the floor when the purge was complete.
It wasn’t pretty, but it cemented the club together under Hellfire’s lead in a way that nothing else could have.
Chafik leans back with a predatory smile. “Which is exactly why I’d rather have you with me than against me. I did my research before taking over the mess you made of Victor’s operation. I hope for my sake that your suspicions are unfounded, but I’ll field an internal investigation. As for you, I would very much appreciate it if you continue to follow your own leads. Should you uncover something, I’ll make sure our next arrangement is well rewarded.”
I don’t like this fucker. He looks at us like useful but violent dogs. We took out his predecessor. If we do the same to him, maybe the third guy would be an improvement. Eventually, someone would learn, right? At least this guy's just a self-important asshole, not a fucking supervillain.
“We'll be in touch,” Hellfire says, as he stands up, ending the meeting. “Come on, boys.”
As we're getting on our bikes on the black marble roundabout in front of the main building—which must be fucking hell when it rains—Hellfire rolls his wheels up next to mine. “You did good in there.”
“I was worried it was gonna come to shots, to be fucking honest. I wanted to punch his smug, fucking mouth.”
“We all did, man. It’s hard to find the balance between being diplomatic and making sure they know they can't fuck with us. He’s more nervous than he lets on. He was a small fish back home, and you’re right. There’s no way to expand as fast as he has without taking risks.” Hellfire nods, then fires up his engine.
A few moments later, we’re roaring down his fancy front drive. The ride back takes nearly an hour, and it’s nice to get the time with nothing but my own thoughts to deal with. When we roll into the clubhouse. Me, Dragon and Blackout park next to each other off to the side while Hellfire and Savage head straight for the church, probably to go over what just happened.
Blackout grins. “Nice job, mister officer man.”
“Shut the fuck up.” I give him a shove, but I'm laughing.
“Nah, you did good. I know you weren’t sure you wanted the responsibility, but I can’t think of anyone I’d rather follow. Besides, you’ve got less of a stick up your ass than Ghost.”
“He’s right behind you,” Dragon says deadpan.
Blackout spins, cursing when he finds nobody there. “Asshole. Since when do you have a fucking sense of humor?”
“Since Willow showed up.” I laugh at the glare Dragon sends my way. “Relax, brother. I’m going to go gather a few of the boys and then we can go pay a visit to the Diamond Club. Trouble’s still brewing. We can celebrate later. I’m sure Willow’s ready for a new lesson or two.”
“I like the sound of that,” Blackout says with a shiteating grin.