Cormac Chapter
Cormac:
Leaving the club without Cyndi grated on me.
I knew it had the same effect on my brother when he had to leave Brenda behind.
I wanted to know who those men were. I needed a private spot to convince her to go out with me.
It angered me to no end that she turned me down, but went out with some clown.
I had more to give her than he did. There was no comparison.
“Whoever thought it was a good idea to fuck with our family is in for a rude awakening. What did they get away with?” Sean asked Duane, the soldier who came to inform us of the issue.
“I don’t know. They were still investigating that when Scully sent me to find you.”
Scully was a family captaen, captain. In the Italian mob, they’d call him a Capo.
Scully oversaw the soldiers and workers who worked in our gun-running business.
According to Duane, an altercation had occurred at one of the storage sites.
Men were caught stealing our stock. Patrick had ordered that we come meet him to handle this together.
It wasn’t unusual for Patrick to have one or both of us handle issues without him.
But sometimes, he insisted on doing it alone or, like tonight, as a trio.
He wanted everyone to know that we stood together and our bond was unbreakable.
Anyone thinking they could play one brother off another was in for a rude surprise.
Thanks to the late hour and reduced traffic, we reached our destination in under thirty minutes.
Our two vehicles followed the rutted dirt road over a mile into the trees.
When we got there, the metal barn, a.k.a.
warehouse, stood there in the moonlight.
It resembled thousands of other barns around the country.
The outside was so innocuous. No one would suspect it held anything other than farm equipment.
Being outside of town, in the middle of nowhere, gave us the privacy we needed.
When a deal was made, the order would be filled from here or one of our other storage sites, and pickup would be arranged at another location.
We never let business acquaintances know where our stash was. That was stupid.
There were three other vehicles parked in the shadows of the barn. Our driver found parking spots near them. As soon as the car stopped moving, Sean and I were out and walking to the door. We were greeted by additional soldiers on guard duty outside. They bowed their heads to us in greeting.
Inside, there was a gathering of men. I recognized all of them except the three kneeling in the middle of the circle.
Their arms were tied behind their backs.
Their ankles were secured, too. Their heads hung so I couldn’t see their faces.
The men’s clothing was wrinkled, dirty, and in spots, bloody.
After perusing them, my attention went to Patrick and the man next to him.
Patrick watched the three captives with a cold gaze.
He never let his emotions show when dealing with traitors and those who hurt us.
The man next to him was Ranald. He was a Scotsman whom we’d met and befriended several years ago.
He’d proven he was loyal. He worked for our family in whichever capacity we needed.
He was in the position of adviser, comhairleoir, to our brother.
We loved teasing him about his inferior Scottish blood.
Standing not far from Patrick and Ranald was Scully. His expression was grim as he stared at the men kneeling. He would take this as a personal affront not only to our family but also to himself. He detested disappointing or letting down our family. He was another intensely loyal man.
We greeted our brother and Ranald with a hug slash handshake combo. We greeted Scully with handshakes. The others we nodded at or lifted our chins to acknowledge. With that out of the way, I wondered how long it would take to tell us what the hell was going on.