Page 42 of Salute, To Bravery
I stood looking at the burning foundation of our home. The clubhouse burned, and I watched as the fire brigade tried to put it out. Since we had taken the building over, it had become home to us. We all bunked there, and there’d been enough room for the prospects we’d taken on.
Santos had hit us in retaliation for busting a drug deal. Miguel Santos was dead, had been a while now, but his asshole son Romeo thought he was God’s gift. Romeo was about to find himself wrong.
You didn’t fuck with the Fallen Warriors.
“The camp is fine and being patrolled,” Bat said, approaching.
I nodded, keeping my eyes on the burning building. The Fallen Warriors fuckin’ clubhouse. Our home. Gone. Yeah, I was going to burn one of Santos’s rich homes as payback.
“What about those who have nowhere to go?” Bat inquired.
“Get tents set up in camp. They’re soldiers and used to roughing it but get the best blow-up beds and everything. We’re going to have to find somewhere fast,” I said.
“Fallen Warriors need vengeance for this insult,” Bat growled out.
“We’ll get it, trust me. And we’ve got the allies to call on. Double security at the bar. That’s our big earner, and we can’t lose that,” I ordered.
“Raddock and Reaper were already on their way there. Sniper is organising patrols around camp,” Bat replied.
“Tonight, we mourn what we lost. Tomorrow, I want everything on Romeo fuckin’ Santos, including what home he favours, because that is going up in smoke.
Then, I want the location of one of his businesses.
Santos doesn’t hit us and walk away unscathed.
Tap the allies; one of them might have the info we need,” I ordered.
The Fallen Warriors table was in there. A beautiful work of art that had been created by Manny. It had been a gift from Rage. Our patch carved into the middle with our creed under it.
Leave no one behind,
Stay loyal, stay honourable,
Love thy brother and sister,
Watch each other’s sixes,
Ride and die free
Because we’re Fallen Warriors.
It summed us up perfectly, and now Santos thought he could shit all over us. He was wrong.
“We’ve got this thing going on for Rage. All the allies will be there. The charity run. Drake wants us to meet a couple of people he thinks might be suitable for the club. We’ll talk to the allies about setting up a meeting. They know we have been hit. I’ve been fielding calls,” Bat said.
I nodded. That made sense. Our allies’ presidents would be aware of how busy I was right now. Bat was the logical point of contact.
“Word spread fast,” I replied.
“It did. Then again, once one Prez knows, they all do.” Bat chuckled.
And damn if that weren’t true. Including myself, we were like gossiping old women.
“Payback’s coming,” Bat whispered as the roof collapsed on the former clubhouse and sprayed embers into the air.
“Yeah. Fallen Warriors may be down, but we aren’t out. We’ve faced worse than this shit; Santos is about to find out what happens when you piss off a Special Forces Vet,” I promised.
Bat nodded as he stood by my side. Where he’d always been and where he’d stand for the rest of our lives. Brothers, in more ways than one.