Page 38 of Lockout (The Vikings MC: Tucson Chapter #11)

Lockout

“ I could find you a wheelchair,” Toxic said with a grin in my direction.

“Fuck you,” I muttered, as I hobbled onto the jet that Cypher was letting us borrow.

All my aircraft were helicopters and small planes.

Nothing that was going to take us long distances or fit a dozen oversized bikers and all our weapons.

Which was why we’d always borrowed this jet from Cypher.

Not that it was his only one. I knew for a fact he had at least two.

The man was a bit stingy with the rest of his toys, though.

“I don’t need a wheelchair, just some good drugs that’ll dull the pain, but not make me loopy as hell,” I said, looking over at Pyre.

He frowned. “I mean, I can do that. But you really should be resting that leg. That rebar missed the majority of the muscle but if you push it too early, you could end up with a limp.”

“I’m not staying home,” I growled. And I wasn’t going to have a fucking limp.

“Hey at least you could dress up as a pirate for Halloween,” Warrant said. “Get the peg leg and the eye patch. Maybe a parrot…” he trailed off as everyone stared at him. “Argh,” he said. “Give me your booty.”

Butcher rolled his eyes, but Toxic started laughing and they went off on a tangent on Halloween costumes that could get them laid. Toxic was sure that Billie would appreciate an astronaut uniform, for some reason. I didn’t really want to ask why.

I glanced over as Pyre tied a tourniquet around my bicep and started tapping at my vein. “You don’t have anything I can take orally?”

“I have something you could take orally,” Warrant offered, then he paused. “Wait. No, not you.”

Sighing, I scowled at Warrant. “You’re only coming to help Toxic fly this fucker. So go do that.”

“Sure thing, Lock,” Warrant said with a grin. That was one thing about him, he was rarely in a bad mood. Toxic 2.0. Thank fuck he was Cypher’s full-time problem. I had enough of my own here without adding him to the pile.

Cursing as the needle bit into my vein, I glared at Pyre. “A bit of notice woulda been nice,” I muttered.

“Don’t worry, this’ll take the pain away,” he said with a grim smile. He watched as the meds disappeared into my body, as though transfixed.

I wasn’t even going to ask what his deal was.

He was a damn good medic. Had a fuck ton of training with the Navy.

Something told me he had body parts of people his club had killed stashed away in different places so he could study them—or use them as spare parts.

I just got that vibe from him. Not that he wasn’t nice enough.

He was. And he wasn’t like Butcher in the sense that there was clearly emotion there.

He glanced up at me and grinned. “How you feeling?”

The dull ache in my leg was gone. I only realized it once he asked. “Good.” I stretched the limb out, my moodiness disappearing with the pain.

“Dizzy?”

“No.” I rolled my shoulders. I felt good. Damn good.

“This isn’t a fix all,” he warned. “It’s more of a temporary patch so you can go kick some ass. You’re going to feel it afterward, though.”

“It’ll be worth it. Let’s get going,” I called out.

My crew took their seats while Warrant and Toxic got the jet ready for takeoff.

I slumped against the wall with a groan of pain. Those fucking meds were wearing off. Thankfully, we’d done what we needed to. Butcher, Toxic, and Warrant were rounding up the last of the fuckers backing the LoS.

They’d put them down as soon as they found them. This wasn’t a peaceful fucking mission—no hearts and minds on this one. It was a ‘make an example out of them’ kind of thing. In Butcher’s case that example was spread all over the pavement.

Hellfire hit the brick wall I was using to hold myself up with such force the whole thing fucking shuddered. “You good, Prez?”

“Yeah.”

No. I was going to have to limp my way back to the fucking car. I hated showing weakness. Pissed me off to no end.

He eyed me in a way that said he didn’t believe me. “Need some help?”

“No.”

Pyre dropped two bags at our feet. His eyes raked over me, critical and grim. “Pain meds are wearing off.”

It wasn’t a question. And since everyone could fucking tell, I didn’t bother to respond.

“What’s in these fucking things?” Smoke asked. “Bricks?”

Priest dropped a duffel and opened one of the bags Smoke was carrying. “Guns. Grenades. Ruck wasn’t fucking kidding when he said these assholes had some firepower. There’s a fucking fifty cal machine gun back there.” His eyes slid over to Hell. “Come help me grab it.”

They left together as Hush walked up and dumped four bags on the ground.

Smoke scowled at him. “You’re not that much stronger than me. What the fuck are you carrying?” He unzipped one of the bags and let out an evil chuckle. “Oh, fuck yeah. I’m claiming one of these.”

They were filled with cash. We’d stolen so much from the two different crews that we were going to be lucky if we managed to load all this shit onto the jet and lift it into the sky. This was the second hit.

The first crew didn’t have as many guys.

Most of their contribution had been technology.

Rip was going to cream his fucking pants when he saw all the spy type shit we were bringing back for him.

We’d pay Switch and Glitch in hardware if they wanted a piece of the pie, since they were helping us out.

This tech was like a nerd’s wet dream. I had no doubt they were going to want their cut in it versus cash.

Though I’d happily give them either. We were keeping all the weapons.

Though the fifty cal was a bit over the top.

We couldn’t just rig that up to one of the cage rides and let Priest hammer at enemies the way kids did in video games.

The cops were bound to notice that. But I wasn’t leaving anything behind either. That would just get handed over to Hangman to be used against us.

Blinding pain ripped through me. Snarling, I punched Pyre right in the fucking face as he prodded at my leg.

“Fuck!” he bellowed, staggering back from me. “I’m trying to fucking help you. Goddamn.”

“You’re poking at me,” I growled. “Unless you’re giving me more meds, you’re not fucking helping. There’s enough cuts and shit on everyone else to play with, you don’t need to fuck with mine.”

“Mean fucker when you’re in pain,” he muttered. “I’ll get you more shit when we get back to the jet.”

I glared at him, daring him to touch me again. He made the smart decision and went to check on the others. No one had been seriously hurt.

I glanced down at the dead body to my right, eyes staring blankly at the sky. Well, none of mine had been hurt anyway. I’d left most of Wyoming and all of Phoenix back at home, along with a couple of ours, Rip, Bear, Mel, and a few more.

It was too early for the LoS to have mobilized fully. Not even Hangman could move that fast. Our families were safe for now. But that was why I was doing this. I wasn’t sitting back and allowing them to get to full strength because then it would be a fucking grind to take them out.

I was going to fucking savage his operation from the shadows until he looked around and realized it was only him left and he wouldn’t have the numbers to do shit about it.

Grabbing a bag, I started making my way toward the vehicles.

Wasn’t sure where Warrant had gotten them, but I was grateful for it.

Last thing we wanted was to be fucking renting vehicles to bring to a slaughter.

I could imagine the face of the person manning the rental return as we rolled in with brains and blood splattered from bumper to bumper.

“I can get that, Lock,” Idaho said, grabbing the bag from me. He gave me the side eye and I knew he was debating on asking if I needed help.

Turning my head, I stared my twin dead in his eyeballs, silently daring him.

He shook his head and took the bag with him to the SUV and left me to get there on my own.

I wasn’t the best patient. Sitting around while I healed was like fucking torture.

So, I hobbled my fucking ass toward the vehicles and scowled at everyone who offered their help.

I’d just led the fucking charge against both these organizations, killing people left and right, and now they wanted to help me walk out of here.

Talk about a blow to the damn ego.

I didn’t bother to offer to help load all the shit. Even I wasn’t that much of a dickhead. I just sat in the front passenger seat and let my guys take care of it.

Warrant was talking to whoever the fuck he’d gotten these rides from, letting them know we were leaving them at the small airstrip about twenty miles away.

Thankfully we were far enough away from any larger cities so no one was even going to pay attention.

We’d pay off the guys at the airport to look the other way as we loaded up our haul.

Although normally we would have just left Hell and Smoke to bullshit with the locals as a distraction while we tossed bags into the plane.

It was amazing how distracting two chatty man-giants could be.

I wasn’t taking any chances, though. I wanted this to be a clean break. And money would ensure that.

Letting us land there to begin with was illegal. There wasn’t any fucking Customs at this airport to stamp our damn passports. We already owed the manager of the airstrip a pretty penny.

By the time we got back to the strip my leg was on fire, so when the guy who let us land here walked up, I grabbed the duffel of money Smoke had claimed and handed it over. “For your trouble.”

“Hey,” Smoke said, mouth hanging open. “That one was mine.”

“Shut it,” Hush muttered.

The guy opened the duffel, grinned, then gave us a halfhearted salute. “Anytime. You just let me know when you wanna come back.”

“Where do you find these guys?” I asked Warrant, as the others loaded the guns and money from the SUVs to the plane.

“Oh, you know, here and there,” Warrant said with a shrug. “Cypher’s got contacts everywhere.” Warrant shot me a grin. “Means the rest of us have them everywhere, too. Pretty damn handy most of the time.”

Chuckling, I nodded, then eyed the stairs going up to the jet. Fuck me. It took some time, but I managed to get up them and then flop into the nearest seat.

My eyes opened as Pyre sat across from me. “You ready for some relief?”

“Fuck yes,” I muttered. Closing my eyes again, I clenched my teeth as he tourniqueted my opposite arm and let the needle bite deep. As soon as the darkness behind my closed eyes started to sway, I snapped them open and glared at him. “This is like…non-drowsy and shit. Right?”

He gave me an apologetic look. “Sure thing, Boss.”

“Fucking untrustworthy-” The rest of my words were slurred so badly I didn’t even know what I was trying to say.