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“We have all the trackers and comms devices in the new members,” said Wilson standing beside Sly. “Some of them technically don’t need the comms because of the way they communicate with one another but they need it to speak with all of us.”

“We don’t mind,” said Hawke.

“Your name might be an issue,” smirked Gaspar. “We have one Hawk. How will we know the difference?”

“Well, I’m Hawke with an ‘e’, you could identify me as that. Or you could simply ask for Hawk the sharp-shooter or Hawke the bird man,” he laughed.

“I’m sure we’ll figure it all out,” laughed Gaspar. Skull and Razor walked into the offices staring at the group.

“Hi, what’s up?”

“I’m glad you’re all here. We’re going to need some help. Remember the motorcycle gang that wanted to buy our bikes?” Gaspar nodded. “We told them we didn’t have the time to produce that many bikes right now. They didn’t like that answer and have shown up at the shop.”

“Let’s go fellas. Time to get your feet wet.”

They took the back route to the shop, entering through the design and mechanical part of the shop. They had more than twenty-five mechanics, designers, fabricators, and artists working for the shop now, along with their regulars. Whiskey turned and gave them a nod from the doorway.

“What’s going on?” asked Ghost.

“They’re just looking around for now. Blade is out there, along with Callan. They pulled him into the store asking him to create a drawing of their logo that they want on the tanks.”

“Ballsy,” frowned Ghost. “How many?”

“Fifteen,” said Whiskey. Ghost looked behind him to see more than fifteen men. Plus it was fifteen men with extraordinary skills.

“Well, let’s see how we can help them on their way.”

Ghost walked through the doorway, the others following and the motorcycle gang members looked up, smirking at the men.

“Can I help you boys?” asked Ghost.

“Just trying to convince your man that we’re going to buy at least a dozen bikes from you but apparently our money isn’t green enough.”

“It’s not that, as I’m sure he explained. We’re backlogged on builds. There’s a two-year wait for bikes.”

“Sounds like a production problem,” said the man looking around at the bikes in the showroom. “We’ll buy a dozen of these and have the paint redone.”

“Mister, all of these are ear-marked for other customers. We can’t take your orders right now. I can recommend some other shops that build great custom bikes.”

“We don’t want other bikes. We want Patriot bikes,” ground out the man. The dozen men with him were all dirty and road tired. They weren’t neat, clean bikers like your see riding their bikes to work. These guys were on the road all the time, probably wreaking havoc on whatever town they passed through.

Alec was standing behind three of the men who were looking at one of the bikes. Their kuts, or leather vests were emblazoned with the image of their club and their road names. The image was one that Alec had seen before.

“Flaming Skulls,” said Alec. The men turned and looked up at the goliath.

“That’s right,” nodded one of the men. “Best club around and nobody tells us no. Nobody.”

“Well, we are,” said Trak staring at the men. “Our bikes are already sold. We can’t sell what’s here. Move on.”

Ghost watched as Flip opened and closed his fists, the floor gently shaking between them. Ghost gave a slight nod to the big man and he let out a long slow breath.

“We won’t ask again,” said Nine. “At least not nicely.”

“I don’t think you boys know what you’re doing,” said the obvious leader. His road name said Killer on the patch on his chest. It seemed a bit obvious but they didn’t appear to be the smartest men in the room by a long shot.

“Oh, we’re well aware of what we’re doing,” said Ghost. “Move on. Don’t come back here.”

“Is that a threat?” grinned Killer.

“Damn right it is,” said Miller. He was smart enough to glance around the room and do a mental count of the men facing him.

“Well, you outnumber us right now, so I guess we’re forced to leave. But hear me loud and clear. You will do this for us or everything and everyone you love will suffer. Your pretty little wives and daughters will be treated to our special welcome for new bitches in the club.” He gasped, sucking in a breath as a knife sailed through the air and straight into his abdomen. His men started to reach for their own weapons but were met with the weapons of the GW men.

“That was a warning,” said Trak. “I never miss. Next time it will hit your heart.”

“Okay, okay,” nodded Killer holding the bloody abdomen firmly beneath his hand. “We’ll leave but be sure, we’ll be back.”

The men watched as they got on their bikes and drove away. Ghost turned to stare at the other men.

“What do we have for this week?” he asked Whiskey.

“Nothing that can’t wait. We’re in the middle of a dozen builds, but that takes place in the back.”

“See if the boys can expand the mirage netting to include the shops. Let Callan and the others know that they’ll be closed until we can be sure those assholes are gone.”

“And what if they don’t leave?” asked David. Tailor laughed, gripping his shoulders.

“That’s when the fun begins, brother. We help them leave.”