Page 57 of Paco
Chapter Eighteen
Paco pulled Chainsaside as the members filed into the meeting room. “I need you to do something for me.”
“What do you need?” Chains replied.
“Find out where Tyler Tarleton from Findlay, Ohio lives now. I need to know the whereabouts of his dad as well. I’ll give you what I know about them after church.”
“Did they do this shit to Chelsea?”
“Yeah, and they’re gonna pay. I’m sure she’s not the only one they did it to.”
“Let’s talk afterward, and I’ll get workin’ on it.”
Paco clasped Chain’s shoulder, shaking it lightly. “Thanks, bro.” He walked to the front of the room and stood by Steel, who’d just hit the gavel signaling church was starting.
“How’re the plans coming for the attack?” he asked Diablo.
Diablo stood up. “Good. Brick, Knuckles, and Tequila have been on surveillance with the strip joint and the fuckers’ clubhouse. No one lives at the clubhouse, but they keep the women there in the basement. Some of the sonsofbitches have the women at their houses, and it seems those women are private slaves to the punks. The ones in the club’s basement work at the strip bar and are sold for sex. Some are auctioned off. It looks—”
Angry voices drowned out the rest of what Diablo was saying.
Steel brought down the gavel and the brothers settled down.
“Do they have someone watching the club at night?” Paco asked.
“Just one or two. Sometimes no one is there. They got security cameras, but they’re the cheap ones. I’d told Knuckles to start interfering with them intermittently so it looks like it’s just an occasional problem. That way, when Chains scrambles them for us, it won’t seem out of the ordinary. He’s been doing that for the past week and the fuckers haven’t done shit about it.”
“Dumb shits are what makes this a whole lot easier for us,” Eagle said, and the members rumbled their agreement.
Steel pushed away from the wall. “I already told Roughneck that we need to know where each of the members lives and the names and addresses of the ones who are keeping women captives. Chains has already found out where Victor Bustos lives.” He gestured for Chains to pick up the discussion.
Chains rose to his feet. “The asshole lives in a big mansion in the ritzy part of town. Unlike the West Avenue Bandits, his residence is heavily guarded and has a top-of-the-line security system. If we’re gonna attack it, we need to cripple the system beforehand.”
“Does he live there alone?” Army asked.
“No. His wife and two young kids are with him.”
“Fuck,” Steel said.
“We gotta find a way to infiltrate without hurting ’em,” Paco said.
“Do we gotta go after him? Isn’t it the West Avenue Bandits who’re the pain in the ass? We get rid of them and this Victor dude doesn’t have his army in the county anymore,” Cueball added.
“He’ll just start shit up again. We gotta take him down.” Paco replied.
“Do you want his balls because of the threat you think he poses, or is this about your stripper?” Army asked.
Burning anger hissed through him, consuming every inch of him. Picking up the chair in front of him, he hurled it at Army. Shotgun and Eagle leapt out of the way, and the chair crashed down on the table, its back clipping Army in the jaw. With clenched fists, nostrils flaring, and teeth bared, Army rushed toward Paco. He was waiting for him, picturing his fist shattering Army’s jaw, splattering blood on the white walls. Then suddenly their fists were slamming into each other’s face, chest, and stomach.
They stumbled apart for a brief second to catch their breaths, and Paco saw blood trickling down from the corner of Army’s mouth; then he came at Paco, punching him hard on the side of his head. Streaks of light burst in Paco’s vision, but he shook it off and kicked Army hard in the kneecap. He groaned and fell down, holding his leg.
“Have you had enough?” Paco asked as he stood over Army, anger and determination pumping through his veins.
Shotgun and Rooster went over and helped Army up. He glared at Paco, wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. Paco breathed heavily as he watched Army limp to the chair.
“I’m putting in a work order,” Sangre said. “You planning on breaking any more chairs?” He was the treasurer for the club, and he watched the money like a hawk.
Muerto laughed. “You’ve broken some other shit over this chick. Fuck, dude. I’ve never seen you like this.” The brothers chuckled and then mumbled among themselves.
