Page 26 of Scythe (Devil Daddies MC #2)
S potlighted by the security lighting interrupting the midnight murkiness, Scythe scanned those gathered near the back warehouse.
They joked and gave each other hell. The Devil Daddies were close.
Working, playing, and living together had forged bonds between the bikers.
Scythe didn’t know how Lucien had created this group, but he was glad Lucien led the MC.
A hush fell over the crowd when Lucien arrived last. The Devil Daddies clustered around him, eager to find out what tonight’s ride entailed.
“We’re going to intercept a shipment coming in. Our arrival and acquisition will not be expected. Use whatever force required to achieve our objective.”
“Do we need a truck?” Toxin asked.
“No. Our bikes will handle the volume of goods. Make sure you have room in a covered place. We go in cloaked. No visible Devil Daddies’ logos,” Lucien instructed. “You’ll leave in five after you’re prepared and your Road Captain shares the details.”
Immediately, the bikers returned to their motorcycles.
They opened their saddlebags and pulled out the inner liners of each storage area.
After setting those safely by the warehouse, they shrugged out of their cuts and grabbed the additional armor shields.
Hooking this reinforced leather to the back of their cuts, they covered the Devil Daddies’ patches from their shoulders to their waists.
As he shrugged into his refashioned cut, Scythe scanned the group, doing a last-minute check to make sure he had an accurate count on the men joining the ride. He noted each member in his mind. Scythe never left anyone behind.
He sensed a presence behind him and turned to meet Razor’s gaze. “How you can move without making a sound even in biker boots baffles me,” Scythe said, shaking his head.
“I’m part panther,” Razor told him with a straight face.
“Of course you are. I’ll keep you updated,” Scythe promised, knowing the doctor was there to respond in case of an emergency. “You’re sticking around. It may be a while.”
“I’m here. I have a cot in the medical bay.”
“A good reason to put in all those hours of study,” Scythe said with a smile. Sleep was not in his immediate future.
“You could take me with you,” Razor pointed out.
“Lucien says no.”
Razor thrust his hand through his short hair in exasperation. “That man is as stubborn as an ox.”
“That I am,” Lucien said quietly.
Razor gave Scythe a killer glance for not telling him that Lucien had approached before turning to the MC boss. Lucien simply held up his hand to stop Razor’s argument.
“You’re never going. Too valuable,” Lucien stated bluntly. He looked at Scythe. “Your task is important, but be careful. I want to see everyone home safe.”
“Do you want to tell them what we’re doing?” Scythe asked.
“Your job, Road Captain,” Lucien said, handing him a manifest before stepping back into the shadows.
Scythe knew each member was aware he was there.
Lucien’s presence alone would underline the importance of the ride.
“Gather round!” Scythe shouted over the casual conversations.
He scanned the paper and shook his head as the Devil Daddies fell silent and moved closer to hear the details from Scythe.
Of all the possible weaponry the Ravagers could be importing, this struck too close to home.
“The Ravagers are receiving a shipment tonight. We’re intercepting it at the private airstrip off Chipman Road.”
“What is it?” Toxin called.
“A new design of armor-piercing bullets,” Scythe answered. “We do not wish to face these on the road.”
Answering noes of agreement rumbled from the small group.
“Hey! Won’t they just bring in more?” Fury asked.
“We’ll have company join us after we’ve stashed half of the load on our bikes. A few local cops will arrest the crew and seize the remaining shipment, including the plane,” Scythe told him. “We get in and out before they arrive.”
The Devil Daddies nodded. They’d trust him to ensure their safety. Their confidence in him came with responsibility.
“If no one has any other questions, mount up. Vex, Fury, Hellcat, we’ll give you a ten-minute head start to take out the guards,” Scythe announced.
Immediately, the three men jogged to their bikes and headed out.
The three worked well together and would clear the way.
The others strapped on their helmets and straddled their bikes.
Scythe watched the time as he moved down the drive to allow the other bikers to line up after him.
When he accelerated, the Devils followed.
The entrance was quiet as they entered the airport. Scythe kept an eye out and spotted Fury concealed under a tree. When he nodded, the biker faded from view. They were in position and would guard the club’s back. Lucien had trained them well.
Scythe checked the time. The neighbors in the area would have contacted the police as soon as they’d heard the large group of bikers converge on the airport. Vex, Fury, and Hellcat would have arrived separately. A single rumble of a cycle wouldn’t have concerned anyone.
He drove to a shaded area off the runway and signaled Dead Eye. The quietest member of the club moved up beside him and stepped off his bike. He drew his well-used sniper rifle from its usual location concealed under his cut and headed into position.
Less than a minute later, Scythe noted the rumble of an approaching plane engine. It sounded rough. He hid a grin. Pirate had hacked into the transport company’s computer system and arranged for the cargo to arrive three hours before the Ravagers had contracted them.
The bikers strolled out onto the runway, and those inside the plane opened the hatch, lowering the stairs.
Scythe walked forward to greet the man who descended.
As they shook hands, Dead Eye took out the tires, rendering the plane helpless.
Scythe used that distraction to overpower the man and held a knife to his throat, as he used the new arrival as a shield.
“Tell your men to surrender or you’re dead,” he growled into his captive’s ear.
“We’ll kill the Ravagers,” the man threatened as he thrashed to get away.
Scythe didn’t correct the man’s mistake in believing they were the rival club. He’d celebrate if the Ravagers were wiped from existence.
A ping of a bullet sounded. Dead Eye had fired again.
A man fell from the door of the plane, where he must have attempted to target the Devil Daddies.
The bikers scattered as the gun tumbled down the stairs.
When it didn’t discharge, Scythe shook his head.
“Your guys don’t know how to take the safety off? ” He chuckled into the man’s ear.
When his captive thrashed, Scythe whacked him over the head with the hilt of his blade, knocking him out. He dropped him onto the pavement. One of the bikers would restrain him.
He climbed the stairs cautiously. The pilot sat frozen in his seat. A red dot over his heart kept him pinned in place. Scythe scanned the cargo hold, not spotting anyone. The fools had come with only three on board?
“Tie up the pilot,” Scythe growled to Street, who appeared behind him. It was foolhardy of the new MC member to follow him before he got the all-clear, but Scythe appreciated the reinforcement. His intuition told him there had to be another man to unload the cargo.
A glint of moonlight off metal warned him, and he threw his knife. The scream that followed confirmed the danger was over. Soon, four men stretched out on the pavement with varying levels of injuries. All still lived to greet the cops when they arrived.
“Take half. Move fast. We leave in three minutes.”
After a flurry of activity, the Devil Daddies exited in different directions with laden saddle bags.
The wail of sirens reached Scythe’s ears as he navigated a farmer’s path through a field without his lights.
Street and Vex were hot on his trail. Dead Eye had departed as soon as they’d secured the men and he was no longer needed.
When they were several miles away, Scythe stopped in a parking lot. The two others pulled alongside him and flipped open their visors.
“Head back to the warehouse. I’ll return soon,” Scythe instructed.
“Where are you going?” Street demanded.
“I have a visit to make.”
“Want help?” Vex asked.
“No. This is something I need to do myself,” Scythe said.
“Got it. See you in a couple hours?” Vex asked.
“Less than that,” Scythe assured him as he lowered the stand down on his bike. He had a few things to prepare before his next stop. Scythe unwrapped the items stowed on his rear carrier and got to work.
Sliding the keycard into the scanner at the exclusive gated community, Scythe didn’t hold his breath.
Pirate’s skills were good. The bar rose, allowing him to coast inside easily.
The rear camera would get a picture of a different motorcycle brand logo and an altered license plate. He’d arranged that before driving here.
Steering through the empty streets, Scythe noted the houses sat silent and dark in the exclusive neighborhood.
The three to five-car garages protected the vehicles while everyone slept.
He crept forward slowly, keeping the rumble of his bike motor at a minimum.
When he reached his target, Scythe turned off the engine and parked underneath a gigantic oak tree.
He blended into the shadows on the side of a vast craftsmen-style mansion and worked some magic. Scythe jumped over the fence and tried the rear door. The knob turned easily. Thank you.
A fluffy poodle mix met him in the kitchen.
She was perfectly delighted to allow Scythe to feed her and shut her in the pantry with an open box of treats.
His stomach growled at the plate of gooey cookies on the island as he passed them.
Scythe lifted the glass dome with his gloved hand and grabbed a couple.