Page 34 of Lockout (The Vikings MC: Tucson Chapter #11)

Lockout

“ Y ou sure this is the place?” Hellfire asked, looking skeptical as he sized up the building. It’d taken us about twenty minutes to get here, and it was nearing four a.m. Which meant no one was around when we pulled up.

According to Rip, this was the place the LoS used while they had business here in Tucson.

How he knew, I didn’t ask, though I would later.

His ability to track information on the internet was baffling to me.

I was a pilot. Basically a knuckle dragger when it came to anything but machinery.

That was easy. The rest of that shit? Not my wheelhouse.

The lack of guards was concerning, but we’d come all this way. We were checking this place out. Maybe these fuckers were too cocky to post guards. It wasn’t likely, but there wasn’t much to do but move forward.

“Yeah, looks empty,” Smoke added.

Before Rip could defend his hacking skills, Ricochet elbowed Smoke in the gut. He shook his head at them. “One of these days you’re going to doom us right into a grave,” he muttered.

I scowled at Hellfire and Smoke, who at least had the decency to look ashamed. “Quit talking assholes,” I said, pointing at them.

They both took out their guns, grinning while they shrugged, all guilt gone. “Was just pointing shit out,” Smoke said.

Looking across the way, I motioned to Toxic, Hush, Butcher, Warrant, and Priest to go around that way. The rest of us would go to the left. I’d left Warrant and Ruck’s crew behind to watch over the two places and our families.

“It’s too fucking quiet,” Idaho muttered as we crept along.

“Someone should’ve been here if this is their place,” Static added, eyes searching in the darkness for any threats. “Hangman wouldn’t keep people who were this stupid around.”

I didn’t have a good feeling about this, but we needed to clear the building. “They were supposed to be set up here, according to Rip,” I said in a low voice. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in months.” There was dust on the floor, but I could also see footprints.

“Maybe they’re using the back half of the building,” Rip suggested, pointing to where a faint glow of lights was coming from a hallway. The building was massive, and it was sectioned off into three separate parts. We’d come in through some shipping doors.

“Maybe. Heads on a swivel,” I told them, then looked over and made a motion with my hand indicating for the other crew to move forward into the second section. We’d take the third, where the light was shining.

We moved in tandem, clearing room by room. Now I could see that this building was in fact being used. The back area had different rooms sectioned off with cots inside. There was an open area that was outfitted as a kitchen. There were bathrooms.

I stepped into an office, the barrel of my rifle sweeping the room.

Empty. Moving to the desk, I shuffled through some papers.

If they were stupid enough to leave anything of importance behind they wouldn’t be the feared group they were, but I still checked.

Like I thought, there wasn’t anything useful.

We met up with the other group at the door to the last room. Butcher waited for my signal, then kicked the door in. We flooded into the room, each group taking a side. It was wide open with only a table and chairs in the middle. This was where they held church.

“Well, shit,” Ricochet said, looking disappointed.

We were all decked out to take on some shitheads. Bulletproof vests, rifles, extra mags and ammo stuffed in every pocket and holder that we had. And there was nothing for us to do.

A loud click echoed through the room and we all turned to see that Smokehouse had frozen, a look of shock on his face. “I think… I think I just stepped on a pressure plate.”

Everyone stood there for a moment, absorbing that. “No one move,” I said, looking around at the ground for any more plates. “They rigged this place to blow.”

“Fuck,” Idaho hissed, glancing around.

“What the fuck do we do?” Hell asked. “Not like we can call the bomb squad.”

“You deal with anything like this?” I asked Butcher.

“Shit, not really. I mean we escorted a couple of the explosive ordinance guys to where they needed to go a few times, but they handled all that shit. The most I’ve done is toss grenades.”

Glancing over, I arched a brow at Rip. “Think you can dismantle it?”

He shook his head. “Not with enough certainty to bet Smoke’s life on it.”

If Smoke so much as shifted his weight off that plate, we were all going to get blasted. The resignation on his face was concerning. “Just go.”

I frowned at him. “Shut the fuck up and don’t move,” I ordered. “We’re not leaving you behind.” Looking over at Warrant, I asked. “How about any of your guys?”

“Demo could dismantle that fucker,” he said. “We just have to get his ass up here.”

“Uh, Lock.”

I glanced over when Priest called out to me. He’d been slowly picking his way across the room. There, piled up in the corner, partially hidden from the view of the door, was the C4. Priest motioned toward the shit and I groaned when I saw the flashing clock.

Even if Smoke hadn’t stepped on that plate, the shit was rigged to blow and we had just over five minutes.

“Okay.” I raked a hand through my hair and looked at my brothers. “All of you get the fuck out of here. Warrant, call Demo and leave me your phone. He’s going to walk me through this.”

“We’re not leavin’,” Hush said. Everyone else started objecting at the same time.

“Knock it off,” I barked. “We don’t have time for this and I’m not letting all of you die if I fuck this up. Get the fuck out. Now!”

“At least he won’t be alone,” Smoke told them with a lopsided grin.

“Yeah, I will,” I replied.

Now they all looked perplexed. Walking over, I put my foot on the plate, next to Smoke’s.

Before he had the chance to figure out what I was doing, I shoved him off the plate and let my own weight settle.

It was a risk. I could have just blown us all sky high, but there was no way Smoke would leave on his own if I waited for the others to get out of the building.

He’d stay here and I’d have no way of forcing him to go.

Not gonna lie, the move made my asshole clench a bit. I let out a heavy breath as I settled on the plate and nothing happened. Meeting Hush’s shocked gaze, I said, “Get them all out of here.”

“Lock-” he croaked, shaking his head.

“We’re not fucking leaving,” Idaho said, glaring at me.

“If I don’t dismantle this thing, it’s going to blow,” I growled. “You have women and kids at home, waiting for you.”

“You have one, too,” Rip reminded me.

Swallowing hard, I nodded. “Tell her I’m so fucking sorry. But I’m not letting the rest of you die like this.” My gaze bounced between Rip, Priest, and Hush. “Please. Get them out of here.”

Warrant stepped behind my brother and wrapped his arms around his neck. We all watched as Idaho struggled before going out like a light in the Berserker’s sleeper hold. He grinned at Butcher. “Something I learned from your girl.”

“That was cold,” Toxic said, grabbing Idaho’s legs.

“You think he was going to leave any other way?” Warrant asked.

“No,” Toxic grunted, hefting my twin’s legs. He paused, looked over at me. “You better fucking get this done, Prez. Otherwise…”

“I will if you’d fucking leave so I can focus.” Glancing over at the clock, I swore. “Four minutes, guys.”

Warrant dug in his pocket and handed his phone to Hush. “Demo’s number is in the favorites.”

Everyone shuffled out, Hellfire had Smoke in a headlock, but it was obvious that the huge man didn’t want to leave either. Still, he did what I asked and wrestled his friend out of the room.

Hush handed me the phone. “Lock, you don’t have to do this.”

“What am I supposed to do, Hush?” I asked. “Was I supposed to leave Smoke to die? Forget about the wife and baby he has at home? About your wife and kid?”

Hush swallowed hard and looked over at Rip and Priest. “I don’t know. This is just…”

“Fucking stupid,” Priest said. “How the hell are we supposed to leave you?”

“By thinking about the kids you have waiting back at the clubhouse for you,” I snapped. “You going to leave them all behind?”

The guilt and grief on their faces was clear. They’d do this for two reasons. One, because I’d ordered them to. And two, because of their kids.

“Lock-”

“Say whatever you want once I walk out of the building,” I told Rip, cutting him off. “Get far enough away that the blast doesn’t catch you.”

Their eyes strayed toward the clock on their way out, as I hit the contact number for Demo.

“Yo. Wasn’t expecting to hear from you so quickly, War. How’d it go?” Demo’s cheerful voice made something inside me settle.

All the patience and calmness I’d learned how to cultivate over the years settled over me. “Demo, it’s Lock.”

There was silence for a minute before he spoke. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m standing on a pressure plate rigged to enough explosives to blow this building apart. And on top of that there’s a timer.”

“Fuck,” he swore. “I’m calling you back on video chat.”

The phone went dead then rang. I answered and was staring at his worried face. “Show me the plate.”

Flipping the camera, I knelt—slowly, or this whole thing would be moot—and pointed the camera at the side of the plate.

“See that green wire there?” he asked, and I leaned a little and spotted the wire he was talking about.

“Yeah?”

“Cut that.”

“You sure?” I asked. “It’s always a blue or red wire in the movies.”

“Fuck the movies, Lock. Cut that so we can go work on the bomb.”

I set the phone on the floor and took my knife out and flicked it open.

Sweat slid down my temple as I set the blade against the wire.

I was perched on this plate, leaning over enough that if I fell, I was going all the way over and that would set off the bomb.

I just hoped like hell my brothers were out of this fucking building.

That Keely realized how much I loved her, even though we hadn’t been together for long.

That my family knew I had to do this, had to take on this role, because it was what a leader did. A real leader.

It would be all too easy to command this group from my fucking office and let them take the risks day in and day out.

But that wasn’t the kind of man I was. If someone had to die, it was going to be me.

Because I wasn’t living in a world without each of my brothers in it.

I wasn’t going to comfort their crying widows and children, knowing there was something I could have done to stop their deaths.

If I didn’t make it out of this, I was going to have to find a way to make this right for Keely. I wasn’t sure if haunting a woman in order to grovel for eternity was considered creepy or romantic in a woman’s eyes, but whatever. My Jumper Cables was going to be stuck with me either way.

I put pressure on the little wire and sucked in a breath as the knife slid through it like it was butter. My eyes darted around. “Well, I’m not splattered against the walls,” I announced.

Demo let out a chuckle. The fucker had to have nerves of steel to work with bombs. And other than a faint look of worry, he looked like we were talking on the phone over a beer. “Show me that bomb.”

I faced the camera toward the C4 as I stepped off the plate.

He let out a low whistle. “Hate to break it to you, Lock, but you wouldn’t be splattered on the walls, cause the walls would be decimated.”

“Good to know,” I muttered. “Do I disarm this thing, or get the fuck out of here?”

“Get the fuck out,” he said. “There’s not enough time on that clock for me to walk you through what to do.”

“I can’t just cut the wires?” I asked.

“Not on that. It likely has a switch that will flip if you do. Most you could do would be to dig the blasting cap out of that C4, but it’s too risky with the time you have left.”

“All I needed to hear,” I said, carefully picking my way toward the door. Last thing I needed was to hit another pressure plate. “Thanks, Demo.”

“Anytime. Have Warrant call when you’re out. And Lock?”

“Yeah?”

“Move your ass.”

Chuckling as he hung up, I shoved the phone into my pocket and started running. When one of the shadows moved, I skidded to a stop, eyes widening as I jerked to the side, narrowly missing a bullet. “Fuck.”

I crouched behind a wall as a couple more rounds hit the sheet rock. Even now, I was just hoping my guys didn’t hear the gunfire and come running back in. “How about we call a truce?” I called out.

“My brother was watching over your clubhouse,” the LoS member called back. “He got a hold of Hangman before they went in. Haven’t heard from him since.”

Shit. I wondered which of the men was his brother. “I’ll hand him over as soon as we get out of this building.” There was silence. “I assume you know it’s about to explode,” I pointed out.

“Yeah. I volunteered to keep the fucker stuck on the pressure plate in here as soon as the prez got the notification that it’d activated.”

“Why?” I asked, peering around the door frame to see where this asshole was. There could only be a minute or so left on the clock. And I’d been in such a good mood when I thought I was getting out of here.

“My brother is dead.”

I swore because I heard the lack of emotion in those words. The truth in them. This asshole was willing to kill himself to make sure I died, too. Well, fuck him, I wasn’t dying today.

Pushing away from the wall and into the main shipping area, I fired my gun twice toward the area where the shadows shifted just slightly. I ran, ignoring the bullets that followed me as I ran hard for a window on the far wall. It was the best I was going to get.

I tossed myself through and the crashing glass was deafening. It wasn’t until light blinded me that I realized that the sound was more than the glass breaking. The fucking bomb. Everything went black.