Strays (Red Kings #1) (29 page)

35

July 22
nd

The next day, the clubhouse was a flurry of activity as bikers from various charters had arrived throughout the afternoon at the request of Lakeside's president. While only a handful of men would actually be getting their hands dirty that night, reinforcements would be needed should the Saints feel  immediate retaliation was in order. The club's closest family and friends were also gathered in the confines of Vic's Auto lot, whose fences and heightened security detail would keep any unwelcome visitors out.

The occupants of the now slightly cramped quarters included the biker queen and a recently-discharged Jackie, who was starting to get nervous as the sun began to set. She had parked herself in a chair minutes after arriving and hadn't moved since, due to both her increasingly fatigued state of health and for fear of getting in the way.

Never had she seen so many bikers in one clubhouse, all armed to the teeth and ready for battle. Bianca had tried to fill her in on the details of what was happening as they had picked up some supplies earlier in the day, but she could hardly make sense of it all. Apparently it was a turf war long in the making that had been escalating in recent months, and now the Kings were looking to end things for the time being.

It was all very complicated and Jackie just hoped she would be free to go back to her apartment and sleep in her own bed very soon. Just as she had begun to doze off, Bianca appeared in her line of sight looking uncharacteristically sympathetic.

“The guys are leaving. Thought you might want to be out there.”

Jackie nodded with a yawn and eased herself out of the chair. Following the older woman outside into the dark, she could only chuckle as the crowd seemed to part as Bianca moved through the lot. They headed towards the group of bikers preparing to ride, which consisted of Vic, Dean, Tyler, Jagger, Lincoln, Nash, and Max.

“Don't even try to talk me out of going, Jack,” Tyler said just as she got within earshot.

“Wouldn't dream of it,” she replied with a shake of her head, knowing how committed he was to the plan he'd created. “But please be careful. And don't do anything stupider than usual. And don't get arrested.”

“You give me this same speech every time I go out with the guys,” he said with a smile.

Smacking him on the arm, she replied, “Well, if you would just 'go out with the guys' like a normal group of people, maybe I wouldn't have to.” They both laughed, then he gathered her up in a hug that swept her off the ground. She giggled as they spun around a few times. “Okay, okay. Keep it up and this baby will come flying right out.”

Tyler immediately stopped and set her back on her feet with a sheepish grin before leaning down and patting her stomach. “We can't have that, can we, Tyler Junior?”

Jackie laughed loudly, attracting the attention of a few of the nearby bikers. “Oh, there is no way I'm naming this kid Tyler Junior.”

“Hey, I think it's catchy.”
 

“Of course you do.”

She turned to continue her goodbyes, but was stopped as Tyler yelled, “Well, it's better than Dean Junior!” She could do nothing but laugh and shake her head as she moved down the lot.

And that was how she arrived in front of the previously mentioned man, with a smile eight miles wide and a light that had been missing from her eyes since her arrival in Lakeside. It was like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, since she no longer had to worry about hiding her pregnancy or the inevitable reaction from the man now standing in front of her.

“Hey,” she said softly, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jean shorts.

“Hey,” he replied with a small smile of his own as he turned towards her. “Glad to see you up and about.”

“Well, I'm glad to
be
up and about.”

Both of them were highly aware of the fact that a majority of the lot's occupants were trying to watch them inconspicuously as though they were getting the conclusion to a crazy season finale cliffhanger.

“You gonna give me the usual speech?”

“Nope. I trust you. Just be careful.” She paused momentarily as he nodded his head, then continued with an afterthought. “Oh, and stop making Taco take care of
your
dog. You know those two don't get along.”

Dean laughed slightly and replied, “I'll think about it.” He couldn't help a slight look of surprise as she hugged him like she had always done before he left, but he nonetheless returned the embrace. “TJ!” he yelled, startling the audience that had forgotten to be discrete. “Come 'ere.” The pair separated as the Macon treasurer jogged over. “Don't let her out of your sight,” Dean said sternly, pushing her gently towards the other biker.

Jackie rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the smile on her face that formed with the knowledge that he hadn't changed a bit since the last time they'd been together.

TJ gave him a salute and wrapped an arm around the woman's shoulders. “What have they been feeding you?” he asked her playfully as she began to lead him towards Nash. “You're as big as a damn house.”

Dean shook his head as the pair walked off, trying to convince himself that TJ was a suitable candidate to watch over his girl for the next few hours.

“That's it?” He turned to see Tyler looking at him with indignation and frustration. “That's all you have to say to her?”

Dean was kind of amused by the anger that was forming on the young man's face, as it rarely ever made an appearance. “We've been over this, Tyler. She's not staying.”

“Yeah, because you told her not to!”

His amusement faded as people around them began to stare in curiosity. “Keep your voice down.” He moved closer to Jackie's best friend and tried to add a note of sympathy to his voice. “Look, you told me it was her idea to leave. If that's what she wants, then I'm not gonna tell her otherwise.”

“But you could at least suggest that she stay in Lakeside. It's still out of your way, but near people that she cares about.”

“Why don't
you
suggest it to her then?”

“'Cause she doesn't listen to me like she does you. Would you please talk to her about it?” Tyler pleaded, hoping the man would be at least a little supportive of the idea.

Dean seemed to think it over for a few seconds before he turned back to the van. “It's not my fight anymore. You'll have to talk to her yourself.”

Tyler groaned in annoyance and threw his hands in the air. “Dammit! You're being such an idiot!”

The Macon biker whirled around at the insult, intent on making a vicious reply, but found that the other man had already stormed off to get in the van.

“He has a point,” Jagger said calmly as he joined the conversation. “You
are
being an idiot.”

Dean could only answer with a growl as they were joined by Vic. “You gentlemen ready to go?” The men nodded in response. “Good. I need you two to be on your best behavior. Understand?” He asked, pointing a finger at both of them as they nodded again. “I know you want revenge and everything, but stick to the plan. No running off by yourselves. And no killing anybody. Not yet.” This last statement was directed at Dean, who had no choice but to nod obediently.

Only time would tell if he'd actually be able to follow that order.

36

July 22
nd

It was nearing ten o'clock at night as two black vans approached a rundown warehouse surrounded by a fence on the outskirts of Jacksonville. The men were all eager to get started with the mission of blowing the Saints’ heroin business to hell. They could only hope this would weaken the gang enough to keep them down and out for awhile.

The lights mounted outside showed a total of six guards patrolling the perimeter, all armed with large guns. A few surveillance cameras were posted at various points around the building, but nothing overly high-tech. To be such a vital part of the Saints’ drug business, they didn't seem to care much about protecting the factory.

“Dean, Jagger, I want you guys to take care of the four guards around back. Think you can do that?” The pair nodded at Vic eagerly, a fierce gleam in their eyes. “Don't kill anyone!” he whispered loudly as they began their stealthy trek to the building.

“No promises,” Jagger replied with a smirk as he pulled his gun out and followed after the Macon biker.

Shaking his head at all of the ways this could go wrong, Vic turned back to the rest of the group. “Max, you're with Linc in case he needs help setting up the fireworks. Nash, Prospect, you two are with me. See if we can't find anything useful in this shithole before we blow it up.” The crew nodded in understanding, then turned to watch as the guards went down silently one by one. “That's our cue. Watch your asses. There are probably more guys inside.”

They crept to the chain-link fence and through the hole made moments ago by Jagger and Dean, who were nowhere to be seen. Creeping around the corner towards the side door, Nash held up a hand to stop the group as he continued forward to knock out the last of the guards.

He motioned them forward as he made sure the coast was clear and they entered the building. Walking down the main corridor led them to two men playing cards, which were quietly dealt with by Tyler and Max.

They encountered no others on their way to the main section of the warehouse, which contained the actual machinery used to make and process the drugs. Vic motioned for Lincoln and Max to get their work done and the pair complied, heading towards what looked to be the central part of the equipment. The remaining three Kings started exploring the various doors off of the main room, hoping to find a stash of something worth stealing.

Meanwhile, Dean and Jagger were still outside, standing in front of three newly-unarmed guards who looked anything but pleased to be literally backed against the wall with nowhere to go.

“Were any of you involved in running a truck off the road two days ago?” Dean asked huskily, his favorite gun trained on the head of the closest man.

When nobody answered, Jagger punched the one sitting on the end right in the nose. “He asked you assholes a question. Which one of you ran me off the road? Was it you?” He aimed his nine millimeter at a particularly mean looking Saint with tattoos on his face. The man responded by spitting at Jagger before grinning devilishly as he continued to remain silent.

“I'll take that as a yes,” Dean said before putting a bullet right between the man's eyes, the sound  somewhat muffled by the silencer on the end of the weapon. “Anyone else?” No one answered once again, afraid they would be the next to die if they opened their mouth.

“Either you'll end up like him,” Jagger motioned to the cooling corpse with the tattooed face, “or you'll be like that guy,” he then pointed to an unconscious and bloody man, the first guard to have the misfortune of meeting the bikers. “What's it gonna be?” Dean gave no chance to pick an option as he shot them both point-blank, putting a bullet into the fourth man just for good measure. Jagger whistled as the final body slumped lifelessly against the wall. “Vic is gonna be so pissed.”

Elsewhere in the building, the Kings were very pleased with the treasure they had found in a storage room near the back of the warehouse. In total, they had acquired a few bags of miscellaneous handguns and a stack of cash amounting to almost ten grand. Not a bad haul considering they only had time to search a fraction of the place.

“Max, Tyler, go get the vans. Prospect, back yours up to that bay door over there so we can load this shit. Nash, figure out how to get that door up. Max, take your van and go find D and Jagger. I have a feeling we'll need to get rid of some bodies.” They nodded and the three went their separate ways to complete their designated tasks. “How's it coming, Linc?”

“I still need at least five more minutes.”

“What's taking so long? I thought you said this would be easy.”

“You want a big bang, don't you? Big bang means lots of explosives.”

Vic sighed at the extended time frame, but said nothing more and began to move their cargo towards the now-open door. The vans arrived a minute later with Jagger and Dean settled in the passenger seats and presumably a few dead bodies in the back.

“How many did you morons kill?” The charter president asked hesitantly, knowing the answer wouldn't be what he wanted to hear.

“All of them,” the Macon biker growled in response, not making eye contact with anyone as he picked up a crate and placed it in the back of Tyler's van.

“Of course you did.” Vic rolled his eyes, then froze as the faint sound of sirens became audible. “Looks like we missed one.” He looked at his men, surprise still evident on his face. “You guys see anyone else around?”

Dean pulled his gun from the waistband of his jeans and headed into the hallway, intent on killing every last Saint in the building.

“You know there are all kinds of people hanging around the ports. Anyone could’ve called the cops on us.” Jagger shrugged his shoulders, saying what they were all thinking. They hadn’t been careful enough.

The president ran a hand over his face. “Yeah well, I’m not gonna stay here and find out who’s nimble fingers dialed 911.”

The men quickly loaded the last of their new toys into the van, the other already full of dead bodies.

“Linc, we gotta go now. You done yet?”

“Give me two more minutes.”

“Lincoln...” Vic looked at his watch impatiently, not wanting to play cat and mouse with the police any longer than necessary.

“Go without me. Just leave a van and I'll catch up. I'm almost finished.”

Running his hands through his short graying hair, he nodded reluctantly and sighed. What should have been an easy job was now becoming a serious problem. “Max, I want you to be outside with the van running and ready to go. As soon as Linc is done, get the hell out of here.”

The young biker's eyes grew wide as he heard Vic's plan, not liking the fact that he was the one to stay behind and potentially be thrown in jail. “But the cops will be here any minute.”

“Well then you better hope he can rig an explosive faster.”

Jagger yelled for Dean to hurry up, and he appeared a few seconds later looking bloodier than when he left. The group piled into the van full of dead bodies, leaving the vehicle with the freshly-stolen merchandise behind as the getaway car.

“Go start the van, Max,” Lincoln said to the newly-patched biker, who heard nothing but the sounds of the police as they got closer. “Max!” The man jolted out of his trance and jogged to the vehicle, hands shaking uncontrollably as he tried to get the key in the ignition.

It took Lincoln another few seconds, but he finally got the wires connected as the sirens became almost deafening. Seeing the flashing of red and blue lights as they came into view of the building, Max panicked and threw the van into drive before hitting the gas pedal and flying through the fence. He fishtailed onto the maintenance dirt road that they came in on, leaving the arriving police and his brother in the rear-view mirror.

“Fuckin' prospect! Never should have patched in that little shit.” Lincoln lit the fuse and took off on foot, heading in the opposite direction of the cop cars. He could only hope that the large explosion would distract them and give him time to make a safe getaway into the trees.

The boom did distract them, but not long enough as they began to surround the place. The biker skidded to a stop as a police car nearly ran him over, lights flashing and sirens blaring their warning. Uniformed officers began to pour out of the cars, guns pulled and shouting instructions.

“Jacksonville Police! Get down on the ground!”

Lincoln raised his hands above his head and sighed in defeat before slowly lowering himself onto his stomach, groaning when he felt a knee slam into his back as an officer cuffed him.

“You're under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law...”