Page 72 of Outlaw Xmas
“Not that we saw,” Tiny answered.
“They got cameras watching the shit, but Blade’s gonna take care of that when I give him the signal,” Rock said.
“You gonna tell us where you want us to be? I was looking at the layout of the area again before I came, and it seems if we can cover it on all four sides, we’ll be good, especially since no one’s at the warehouses,” Throttle said.
“And it being ten fuckin’ degrees out helps us. I’m sure the lazy motherfuckers will all be inside warming their asses,” Helm added.
Chas chuckled. “We’ll warm them even more when we blow the fuck outta them.” The brothers laughed, their breaths rising above them and mingling with the night air.
“Hawk, Bear, Wheelie, Axe, and me will go in to have a talk with the assholes. The rest of you will follow Rock’s direction on where to be. Split up into two groups with Tiny heading one and Rock the other. If you hear shooting inside, you’ll know to attack. Let’s head out.” Banger opened the door on a black SUV and several brothers jumped inside the vehicle. The club had several dark-colored Chevy Tahoes and Ford pickups and used them in covert operations.
Axe slid over to make room for Jerry, Throttle, and Wheelie. Hawk looked over his shoulder. “Is everyone in?”
“Yeah,” Rock replied.
Hawk backed out and followed Banger out of the parking lot. Conversation was minimal which was normal before a hit. Preparing the mind and eliminating all thoughts and feelings were essential in confronting whatever lay ahead. Each time the Insurgents went out on a mission, it could be one of the brothers’ last time. Life and death were interwoven, and in the violent outlaw world, death was omnipresent. In the honor-obsessed outlaw biker world, disrespect took on a life-or-death significance, and the result was usually death to the offenders. The Insurgents were highly skilled warmongers, plotting, surveilling, and studying rivals. They learned where they lived, worked, and played, and then they’d silently enter their world and destroy them.
After a half hour, the vehicles slowed down and killed the headlights. They went off the road and drove a small distance before the engines turned off. The night was dark. The Insurgents used the darkness to shield them on one of their missions. Since Chad Bridgewater’s residence was outside of town, there were no streetlights, and the closest neighbor was a good quarter of a mile away.
The snow crunched under the men’s boots as they walked toward the farmhouse. In the distance, the howls of wolves and coyotes pierced the night air, and the wind whistled through the pine and evergreens. The faint pattering of small animals through the brush made several of the brothers whip out their guns. When they realized it was wild rabbits, foxes, and rodents, a hushed chuckle cracked the tension and they put away their Glocks and continued on their way. Axe glanced upward: stars glittered through the gaps in the trees.
“There it is,” Tiny said in a low voice.
Up ahead, a ranch-style house with a large porch greeted them. Wisps of smoke rose from the chimney, and the lights in the front part of the house cast yellow squares on the glistening snow. The six metal warehouses stood off to the left side of the main house. They weren’t huge buildings and perched on the front sides of them were security cameras. The buildings creaked in the wind.
“Do they have a camera at the house?” Banger asked.
“Nope,” Rock replied.
“Fucking unbelievable,” Throttle said.
“What a bunch of dipshits.” Helm spat on the ground.
“This is too fuckin’ easy,” Ruben said.
“We should take the shit from the grow building and the guns,” Axe said.
“That’s what I was gonna suggest.” Banger turned to Rock. “You and Tiny know which is which, so we won’t strike those until after we take the stuff. Rusty and Skinless are bringing the trucks. When we kick the front door in, give the signal to Blade to cut the cameras. Let’s go.”
In a flash, they were on the front porch, Wheelie carefully opening the screen door and jerking his head at Axe. Axe raised his leg and, with his full strength, kicked the door. It groaned and splintered, and the rush of excited voices told him he had less than a second to break it open. Another kick and the door flew open. He rushed in with his gun drawn and saw two men run to the back of the house. Knowing Jerry, Chas, Cruiser, and Helm would be waiting, he let them go and moved over quickly to let Hawk, Wheelie, Banger, and Bear in.
“What the fuck?” a tall man with red hair said. “Banger? What the fuck are you doing?”
“I came over to visit,” Banger replied, his hand inside his jacket.
“Why the fuck didn’t you just knock? You broke my fuckin’ door. You gonna pay for that?” From where Axe stood, he could see the red blotches on the man’s face, and the vein in his temple pulsing.
“Brothers, this here is Chad,” Banger said. Turning to two other men who stood near Chad, he laughed. “How in the hell did you get mixed up in this shit Randy?”
“I needed the money,” Randy blurted out.
“Shut the fuck up!” a skinny man said.
“Let him talk if he wants, Beau. It figures you and Calvin are working with Chad.” Banger shook his head. “But Randy? It’s too damn bad you didn’t go to the bank for a damn loan.”
“I’m not involved with any of this, Banger. Honest. I was just helping with some of the plants.” Sweat beaded up on the dude’s forehead.
“Banger’s here because he’s pissed we’re doing meth. What the fuck can I say? I need the money. I couldn’t get the grow license, so I had to do something. The farm hasn’t been doing that good. Hard to get good help.” Chad smiled but it was one of the most insincere smiles Axe had seen in a long time. “Do you and your friends want a beer?”
