Tracker, after Cilla has spoken privately makes arrangements quickly for Violet and her sister's body to be removed from the compound. They leave in the van we use for dirty work and head out as soon as it’s dark. We cannot afford for anyone to see what is happening, but we are all alert and ready for whatever this asshole brings.
I’m on the roof with Judge and Tread. We have sniper rifles ready and can see the brothers walking the perimeter of the compound. When they back away and slink into the shadows, I know that it’s nearly time for the asshole to appear.
Cap appears and keeping his voice low informs us that Cilla has had Bono and Pyro speaking to her. He continues, “This fucker has ten men with him. He expects something when he gets here, but not sure what. Keep your heads down, but take out as many as you can, and do it as fast as you can.”
“Yeah, no problem, Cap. We are ready.” The three of us continue to watch the area of the fence nearest to us. We don’t speak or make any noise at all. It cannot be much longer before they arrive, and I’m well ready for this asshole to be gone.
Rides appears and states clearly with more than a little frustration. “It’s off. Cilla just confirmed the asshole has changed his mind. Downstairs all of you, we are going hunting.”
Packing our sniper rifles away as quickly as we can, we all head downstairs. The common room is buzzing with brothers arming up, and Tracker is standing near the door ready. Any fool can see he is raring to cause some shit.
Cilla walks into the common room and quickly heads to Tracker. He bends down so she can speak to him quietly. Whatever she says makes the feral look on Tracker’s face appear. Nodding to Cilla, Tracker bellows, “Okay, brothers, let’s roll out. You all come back safely, or Cilla will have Pyro light up your ass on the other side.”
Chapter 15
FINGER
Walking slowly across a field, we are all in combat clothing and weaponed up. Cilla discussed what was happening with Pres, as told to her by Bono, Tank, and Pyro. It seems the three of them have been rushing around and listening to conversations. Pyro even burned the ass off a ghost that was related to the bomber. We don’t give a shit about his name. What does Nicholas Denning mean to any of us? Nothing, that’s what. Bomber is enough!
Tracker is running quietly, which you would think is hard for a man his size, but he does it so smoothly that you can’tdo anything but admire it. His teeth are white in the darkness because of the shit-eating grin on his face.
Stopping behind a fence line, we all duck and watch the warehouse just beyond. “Can you imagine what Kennedy would do if given half a chance?” Tracker whispers to Cap, who is on the opposite side to Tracker from where I am kneeling.
“Will you shut up about Kennedy! You missed your chance. We would not have met her if it wasn’t for the fight nights the Satan’s Guardians MC ran. So, let’s move on from her, shall we?” Cap snaps, but I am struggling not to laugh. We all know that Tracker wants to find a woman with spirit and who can challenge his dominance.
I can’t help but stir things some. “Well, Pres needs a First Lady that has sass. I mean a prim and proper woman who has no spine won’t be much good. Can you imagine what the club women would put her through? Nah, Pres needs someone who can say fuck you, and mean it, in every sense of the word.”
“Shut up, Finger. Concentrate on the job at hand,” Cap snaps. I don’t miss Tracker looking over at me and grinning. Yeah, he agrees with me.
Shrugging, I don’t wait for Cap or Tracker. I get to my feet and stay as low as possible after climbing the fence. I close in on the warehouse. Why these bad guys always pick a warehouse to hide in I don’t know, but it seems to be the scenario.
Stopping when I hear voices talking about how boring it is standing guard, I smirk to myself.It is going to stop being boring in a minute.I think to myself.
Tracker surges from the side of me, grabs one of the guards and cuts his throat before I can jump to my feet. The second guard launches himself at Tracker. Now, I have to tell you that Tracker is a martial arts specialist, and only because he lovesfighting so much. His love of fighting has saved all our lives at one time or another.
Mayhem ensues, and I stick to Tracker, watching his back as he plows through one man after another. Brothers are fighting or watching the back of a brother who is fighting. There are more men here than we expected. All must be waiting for ZeBach to arrive. Now where the fuck is our bomber?
As things settle, Tracker stands in the center of the warehouse and bellows, “NICHOLAS DENNING, COME OUT, COME OUT WHEREVER YOU ARE!”
Oh, for God’s sake, Tracker! Yeah, he said that in a singsong fashion, taunting the asshole to show himself.
“You think you’ve won now, Colt Burrows?” A voice states, and not overly loudly. Taunting! Mistake…big mistake…
Tracker throws his head back laughing, but it’s the one that when you know him, know it is not a humorous laugh! Oh no, he is pissed off and someone is going to get hurt, or dead!
“Come out and face me, Nicholas. Don’t be shy. You are nothing but a mercenary, hired to blow up brothers you fought beside. You are the scum of the earth, and let me see you, let me see what a fallen brother looks like.” Tracker is taunting too, and my money is on my Pres. All this with the bomber has to conclude, and then we can move on ZeBach.
A man, around 6’2” walks toward Tracker from the shadows. He is a cocky fucker. Smirking while obviously thinking that he can bring down the taller man. Pres, however, is standing relaxed and calm. “Ah, here you are. Come out of the shadows, like a cockroach after a meal.” We are all watching and nodding in agreement with our Pres.
“Let’s not fuck around here, hey, Colt. Let’s get it done.” Nicholas launches himself at Tracker. Throwing out a roundhouse kick when he gets close enough to an immobile Tracker. Tracker grabs the ankle a second before it would hit, twists and throws, which has Nicholas throwing his hands out to stop the impact as he hits the ground.
Nicholas jumps to his feet, laughing lightly, more to himself than to us. He has just realized this is not going to be as easy as he first thought. For the next few minutes, they both throw a punch or kick, but none have much of an impact. We can all see the moment Nicholas decides he has had enough of playing around and produces a knife from under his sleeve.
“Ah, now you are talking,” Tracker smirks. I side-eye Cap who side-eyes back at me. We both know that particular smirk means Tracker has had enough too, and what is about to come is the storm.
The way Nicholas holds his knife and the way he almost relaxes tells its own story. He knows how to use a knife, and he is confident that he is going to kill Tracker.
Nicholas plays with Pres, taunting him, yet more than once comes close to causing some harm. I let out a gasp as one thrust gets close, and I’m surprised when I get an elbow to the ribs.