“Hush!” Bruno raised a hand, silencing him. Sensing a trap, he walked cautiously out from behind the garbage can and towards the mouth of the alley, eyes panning the area. Engines sounded from the left and right but the sound of bikes was gone. Retrieving a mirror from his pocket he looked either side to see that the bikers were not waiting outside, then made his way back to Marco.
When he signaled to Marco it was safe, the two of them mounted the Harley.
“Stay alert. They’re up to something,” Marco cautioned.
Bruno nodded curtly. “Let’s get this bike out of sight.”
Igniting the engine, Bruno waited a few seconds to see that the Hell Dragons didn’t appear then rolled slowly forwards, the bike emerging from the alley. He pulled out and turning onto the main road, he looked to his left and right then grinned slightly. The bikers were nowhere in sight.
Revving the engine, he blazed down the side roads beside Coronado’s main street. Bruno wore a dark, cold grin. He’d just shaken that whole MC. As he rounded the corner onto the Main Street, Marco’s big finger appeared over his shoulder, urgently pointing towards the pavement.
Bruno’s eyes popped when he saw and a cluster of bikers pulled over at the side of the road. He rolled up onto the pavement on the other side of the road and rode in the cover of the parked cars, dodging the eyes of the lines of pissed off bikers. He stared at them for just a moment and that was when he noticed the flashing blue lights of two blue and white sedans, and four cops, checking their licenses. His lips curled into a smile. “I never thought I’d be happy to see the cops.”
At least the jerks got what they deserved.
Dropping down onto the street, Bruno picked up speed and headed for Castillo’s hideout.
“Geeze. That was fucking lucky!” yelled Marco in his ear. “Karma really is an ugly bitch.”
Bruno’s volcanic laugh erupted from his lungs, then he looked over his shoulder at his cousin. “Lucky for them, you mean.”
“Keep your eyes on the road! You damn near got us killed back there,” Marco snarled.
“Fuck that...I’m not a force that gets killed. I’m a force that people feel.” Bruno growled. “I had to see inside that place for myself. Besides, I got us out alive, didn’t I?”
Marco scoffed. “That Prez is a tough customer. They don’t call him the Wolf for nothing. And he’s tied in with the Red Riders from LA.”
Bruno huffed. “I’ll worry about that when the time comes. My only hope is to seize their weapons before they get a chance to hide them”.
He raced victorious down the highway at eighty miles per hour and smiled faintly at the thought of what he’d just done. He’d shown them their place, and it didn’t matter that they didn’t want it, they’d take the place they deserved ? under Bruno’s thumb. A snicker followed that thought. Not that taking on an entire MC had been as difficult as it sounded. Bikers were nothing but men babies on Harleys playing dress up, right?
Bruno however, well, he wore no helmet, no leathers, no patch. And yet, he was more of a man, more of a biker than those jokers claimed to be ? and he knew it.
Bruno wondered….What if his father had been Prez of an MC, rather than a mob boss? Would he have grown to be as big of a dumb-fuck, pussy as those guys? A shiver licked down his spine at the horrendous thought.
For now, he was satisfied that the Hell Dragons MC would no longer be a threat to them. They had proved themselves to be as useless as they looked. As for the weapons they were dealing in, he’d bring that up with the mob council. He would have to wait and see what they would decide.
When they reached the docks, he gazed around as he always did. Always alert for the first sign of trouble. Looking over to Castillo’s warehouse up ahead, he could see a cluster of guys outside but he couldn’t tell if they were his own, or outsiders. When he heard the alarm going wild from the clubhouse, he zeroed in on the men scrambling to their vehicles outside and sank his teeth into his bottom lip.
Bruno swore. “You’ve got to be shitting me!”
Nobody saw the two of them roll up.
“Leave them to me,” growled Marco, and Bruno let him off his ride. “You go inside and check for any others.” Marco hopped of the Harley, gun in hand.
Giving Marco a curt nod, his fingers tightened around the handlebars and he raced around the back.
Bruno killed the engine in the parking lot and glared at the hideout, wondering what the hell was going on. Since there weren’t any windows on this side of the building, he could only guess at what was happening inside.
When a gunshot fired, he knew that men were still inside and his heart froze for a moment in his chest. As he listened, the rage inside of him rose.
Not on my watch, motherfuckers.
He dismounted his ride and scurried across to the building. Concealed in the shadows of the walls, he made his way around the side. His gaze scaled the vast metal walls and then dropped to a small window at his feet. He groaned and rubbed his calloused fingers over his chin. There was only one way in if he wanted to stand a chance of not being seen. And he was staring right at it.
He searched inside his pocket and pulled out his house keys which held a small pocket knife. Flicking it open, he raised the tiny blade up to eye level and ran his thumb along the blade. It drew no blood. It was blunt but would have to do. Jacking the window open with the blade, he removed his jacket and squeezed through the window into Castillo’s basement study and dropped six feet to the ground. Landing on two feet, he held out his gun and looked around. The basement office was dark and quiet. A vicious cacophony of gunfire sounded above his head.
He looked up.
