Page 41 of Lockout (The Vikings MC: Tucson Chapter #11)

Lockout

S tepping into the room we held church in, I paused when I saw three more screens up on the wall where our one usually hung. Rip had sent me a text to meet him here.

I’d left Keely sleeping upstairs. We’d both needed that release of tension, and though my thigh was aching a bit, I wasn’t about to wait another five days of not fucking again. Ever. That had been worse torture than the leg.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Busy fucking some shit up.”

That hadn’t come from Riptide, who was head down, hammering away at his laptop. Glancing back up at the screen, I saw Glitch grinning at me. “Sounds like a good time. What’s it mean?” I asked Cypher’s techie.

“It means we’re about to give you a present,” a female voice replied.

Staring at the blacked out screen next to Glitch, I raised my brows. “Take it you’re Switch. Why can’t you assholes find names that don’t rhyme?”

Her laughter filled the room. “Like I knew this guy when I chose it.”

She had a point. Glancing over my shoulder, I found Rip grinning at me. “Check out the right hand screen, Lock.”

I studied it, crossing my arms over my chest. “Looks like a bank account,” I announced. The screen split and suddenly I was looking at six. “Okay.”

“Glitch managed to follow the money from that tech crew you took out,” Rip said, neck bent once more. The sound of three sets of keyboards clacking was grating at my nerves.

Then it clicked. “Wait a fucking minute. You telling me those’re Hangman’s accounts?” I asked, stunned. “No fucking way.”

“Fucking way,” Glitch said with a toothy smile. “Bastard thought he was so untouchable that no one would find his suppliers or be able to trace his money.”

“It’s not all his money,” Switch pointed out.

I stared at the amounts on the screen. “No, but it’s a lot of fucking money.

” Letting out a low whistle, I marveled at the skill these three had.

Put them together and you could dominate globally.

Not that I wanted to. I wasn’t some supervillain.

I just wanted these pieces of shit out of the picture.

The LoS was the lowest of the low. They’d kidnap and sell anyone they could get their hands on.

They threatened, and made good on those threats.

Women, children, they didn’t care. And Hangman spearheaded it all.

“What do you want to do with it?” Rip asked.

The clacking had stopped, and even though I couldn’t see Switch, I could feel three sets of eyes on me.

Rubbing my chin, I thought about that. We weren’t taking it.

We didn’t need that fucking blood money.

We’d already taken a lot from Hangman in the past week.

Now I wanted to do something to counterbalance the stain he and his crew had left on society.

Turning, I grinned at Riptide. “Give a third to a couple organizations that help people after they’ve been trafficked.”

He nodded. “And the rest?”

My grin got even bigger. “Give it to police charities. Give it in their name, straight from these accounts. Make it perfectly traceable.”

Glitch choked on a laugh. “You’re diabolical,” he said as the clacking started up again. “Any specific police charities?”

“Any in the cities where the LoS has chapters,” I told him. “Starting with Phoenix. Especially any that focus on helping families with officers killed in the line of duty.”

“There’s a lot of money here,” Switch said. “We’ll be able to spread it around. Make sure they don’t go after anyone who receives the donations.”

“That’s why the majority is going to the cops,” I said with a smug smile. “Even Hangman wouldn’t have the balls to go to police charities trying to explain that the money wasn’t supposed to be donated. It would draw too much fucking attention to him.”

It wasn’t like I had anything against the cops.

Not the way some MCs did. It was just that they didn’t appreciate our ways, so we avoided them, and avoided prison.

We were military at one point, so I’d known a lot of guys who’d retired and gone into law enforcement.

This would help out a lot of people. The police helped a lot of people.

We helped those they were unable to. It wasn’t exactly a symbiotic relationship, but it felt right sending some of the money their way.

Them being a place Hangman wouldn’t go after his stolen money was an added bonus.

He wouldn’t likely miss the third of their cash that was going toward helping the victims he created. But even if he tried, he wasn’t going to have the time. I’d make sure of that.

“What else?” I asked the three tech whizzes.

“Found you a couple of those caravans,” Rip said. “There’s one coming in from New Mexico now.”

“They’re the closest,” Glitch added. “Couple different chapters met up outside of Las Cruces.”

“They’re also the smallest,” Switch continued. “If you want to hit one of the groups, this is the perfect one. Hangman is with that one in the middle there.”

“Good,” I said with a grim smile. I could take out more of his crew before he ever hit the Arizona border. “You three keep shuffling that money around. Do what you can to make the third of it going to trafficked victims untraceable. Make sure they find where the rest goes.”

Riptide chuckled. “Gladly.” He looked up. “You heading out?”

“Yeah, Las Cruces is only four hours from here,” I told him. “I’m not letting those fuckers set foot in my city. Give me a head’s up if you find anything else in the meantime.”

“Good luck,” he muttered, already turning back to his work.

It didn’t take long to get my crew together and get on the road. I was going to pay for this little trip, but there would be time to rest when I was dead. That wasn’t going to be today, so I’d badgered Pyre into giving me more of his miracle drugs and hopped on my Harley.

We were going to end up meeting up with the LoS caravan around the Lordsburg area. That worked for me just fine. Lordsburg was a tiny town in New Mexico, with expansive desert surrounding it. The perfect place to have this showdown.

The miles flew past as we made our way to the Arizona/New Mexico border. We were heading into a fight with twenty-three bikers, eighteen on their Harleys and the rest in two different trucks following along. I had zero doubts that they were hauling more supplies in those trucks.

Hangman must’ve asked for the crews coming this way to bring more firepower since the Phoenix Chapter lost what they were supposed to get from Canada. My smile was grim. He had no idea what was coming for him.

If that fucker thought I was above killing a man in his sixties, he’d be wrong. After all the shit he’d done? I’d murder him with a smile on my face.

I hadn’t had time to go through everything that Rip had sent me. But the hacker twins—as I’ve started thinking of Glitch and Switch—were sending me shit, too. The three of them were digging up so much intel on this crew, we weren’t going to have a blindspot going into this fight.

My phone was buzzing incessantly in my pocket with updates. It was making my fingers twitch with the urge to read it all. But I liked living. Had a lot to live for now, so I kept my focus on the road.

We approached Lordsburg and I grinned when I saw the bikes parked at one of the few gas stations in town. We all pulled over, eyeing the two vehicles parked beside them.

“What’s the plan?” Hush asked.

“We need to draw them out of town,” Priest said, looking around. “Not many people here, but enough that we don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“We could go start some shit,” Hellfire offered, motioning to himself, Smoke, and Ricochet.

“Best if they know who they’re dealing with, so they’re more likely to follow,” Toxic added with a nod.

I studied the bikes, then looked over at Hellfire. “You get in, then get the fuck out. Don’t stick around. I don’t want-”

The boom gave me fucking flashbacks so damn vivid I flinched. Jerking my head, I watched as one of the trucks went up in a blaze of fucking glory, and there was Butcher. He pulled the pin on a second grenade and we all watched in horrified fascination as it rolled under the second truck.

The truck exploded, taking whatever supplies they were bringing with it, as Butcher stuck his hands in his pockets and walked back across the street toward us, as though he didn’t have a care in the goddamn world.

Scowling at Toxic, I said, “You were supposed to be watching him.”

Toxic shrugged. “I was watching him. Watched him grab two grenades and walk across the street…”

Butcher strolled up as the bikers came swarming out of the convenience store attached to the gas station. “That’ll teach them not to leave a guard with the vehicles. What is this? Fucking amateur hour over here?”

Sighing, I shook my head. “On your bike, Butcher.”

One of the men stepped close to the curb, glaring at us as Toxic raised his two hands, giving the guy a two fingered salute.

I couldn’t exactly bitch Butcher out. He’d just solved a couple of our problems. Though it wasn’t subtle, he’d gotten their attention, and taken out whatever they’d been bringing with them for Hangman.

Motorcycles roared to life as five men rushed around, trying to figure out what to do about their burning cage rides.

“Hell, Smoke, Ricochet, peel off after a mile or two and circle back,” I ordered.

“Take those five out and make sure there’s nothing left of those trucks.

Get a hold of Rip. See what he needs to do about any cameras in the area. ”

Lordsburg was a small town, only a little over two thousand people. Still didn’t mean there weren't security cameras on that convenience store. I didn’t want the cops pounding on my door after this.

“Sure thing,” Hell said.

“Will do,” Smoke called out.

Ricochet grinned as we all started our bikes and gunned it out of town.

Looking over my shoulder, I let the grim satisfaction settle over me as I saw the LoS chasing us. This was going to be fun.

Slowing my speed, I took a small two track dirt road that went south toward the Pyramid Mountains. The mountain range was only about three miles away and there weren’t any developments near them. The hacker twins and Rip had decided that would be the perfect place for this to go down.

It was slow going and rough on our bikes, but that meant the fuckers behind us would struggle, too.

Once we were ready, we’d let them catch up and the fight would be on.

They had no idea what they were in for. None of the chapters of the LoS were former military, like us.

They were just shit bags who liked to take people from their families and sell them halfway around the world.

This particular group was about to pay for their fucking sins. I was going to make sure of that.