Page 35 of Chaos & Carnage
“I want the fuckers completely taken out. Sicknote, find out where their club house is. I want intel by the morning. Tomorrow night, we’re going to toast some bikers.”
The bar went quiet. An instant hush, a mass of heads bobbing, not sure where to look, apart from Fury and Magnet, who just stared straight ahead, unfazed.
“We’re not going to….” Tony Cannelloni began; his voice was as weak as my insides had suddenly become.
Fury nodded his head. “It’s time you earned your Dirty Deeds badges, boys.”
Cade stiffened beside me, suddenly tense, and I felt the same inside.
“I’ll have a pint, Indie,” I beckoned at the pumps in front of me, my mouth now dryer than the Sahara.
We sat in that silence for a while longer, the only conversation between Fury, Indie and Magnet. Sicknote had turned a shade of green and hadn’t stopped stroking the lip of his pint glass for the last few minutes.
My phone bleeped, a number I didn’t recognise. I stared at the screen, trying to place the name at the end of the message, running through a handful of faces until I found one that fit.
“That little nurse gets off in a couple of hours,” I nudged my brother. “Reckon we’ve got time to get Demon settled and then get out for some fun.” I needed something to distract me, that was for fucking sure.
But Cade shook his head. “Nah, mate. Don’t feel like it.”
“What’s wrong with you?” my voice was sharper than I meant it to be. “You sick or something?”
“Aye. Something. Not tonight, Carnage. You go do what you want to do. I’m going home for a shower.”
Cade pushed his half-drunk pint across the bar. “See you boys at the hospital in an hour.”
*****
Demon moved slowly, taking an age to walk the long corridors, every movement showing across his face as he tried to conceal the wince of each laboured step.
“I’ve found him a wheelchair,” Sicknote came rushing up, the wheels of the chair squeaking loudly on the heavy-duty lino.
“I’m not getting in that,” Demon hissed.
“Don’t worry, we’ll not let Sicknote drive it. We’ve all seen what he’s done to his car.”
“Still no. Fuck off with that thing,” Demon grumbled, wrapping an arm around his middle and drawing in a sharp breath.
“You sure the doctors actually discharged you?” I asked, watching the once terrifying enforcer of the Kings barely able to make it along the corridor to the lift.
“Aye. They did. They knew what was good for them, being medical professionals and all that.”
“Fuck’s sake, Demon,” Indie growled, his voice echoing off the walls of the almost deserted passageway.
“You think I’m hanging around here waiting for someone else to kill me? Fuck that. Just get me home, lads.”
Painstakingly slowly, we edged along the hospital corridor to the lift. It took ages to come, or it seemed that way when we all stood alongside Demon, who was doing his best not to double over in pain. I glanced at my brother, his expression echoing the way I felt.
“Did you need as many Kings as this to pick me up from the hospital?” Demon rasped, as the lift ground and squeaked its way up to the fifth floor.
“Someone’s trying to kill you, remember?” Indie grumbled, stubbing his thumb into the call button on the lift’s panel repeatedly.
“You not sorted that out yet, Indie?” Demon shook his head, the muscle tight in the side of his jaw, despite the sarcasm he’d tried to force into his voice.
“Nah, mate.” Fury pushed the call button as well, like the lift might actually listen this time and get a wriggle on. “Only just identified the fuckers from the other night. They’ll be in hot water soon, though.”
“And the Notorious?” Demon asked.
“We’ve got intelligence in place. We’ll hit them where it hurts, but we need to be in and out and finish the fuckers in one fell swoop. We have one chance to take them out this time, Demon,” Indie added when his brother shook his head slowly. “And now you’re out of action. This is a game of strategy, not weapons.”