“However, it’s obvious that we can’t let this action by the Saints go unnoticed. We need to retaliate, and we need to figure out what we’re going to do. Anyone have any ideas?”
I looked first to Axle, but he didn’t have anything to say. My eyes traced across the room, trying to see who would speak up first.
“We could make a late-night drive-by,” Patriot said. “Hit them and run, man. It’ll give them something to think about.”
“True,” I said. “But I’m hoping to hit them a little harder than normal. I’m tired of this cycle of us potshotting each other. I’d like to send a message that we’re not to be fucked with like that.”
There was another issue going on right now, and that was that I still suspected someone in the club was a traitor. It wasn’t like the Hovas were going to do anything to put themselves at risk, especially since they were fired upon, so it had to have come from us.
Butch, Axle, Patriot, and I were on the run, so it seemed unlikely that any of them had willingly put themselves in the line of fire. That only left Red Raven and Father Marcellus, but both of them seemed impossible. Red Raven had given his life to the club. In fact, he was older than my father when he joined. Father Marcellus was of the faith and, even outside of that, one of the most comforting men I had ever met in my life.
I considered the possibility that a club member had figured out our mission and had relayed the information to the Fallen Saints, but that, too, seemed improbable. Last night’s run had been played very close to the vest within the confines of the walls.
Regardless of it all, there was a part of me that suspected whatever strike we ended up making would have to be made on the spot, the better to prevent someone from revealing our plans to the enemy.
“Did you have something in mind?” Axle asked.
I didn’t. I had some rather dramatic ideas, of course—raid their compound. Send all of our forces in to kill Lucius at his home. Find a way to ambush Lucius and his allies in broad daylight.
But they seemed to go a little too far. I was looking for something in the happy medium. Something that would quell the violence a bit, but something that wouldn’t incite an all-out bloody war.
“I mean, fuck, if we want to send a message, just attack their base,” Patriot said with a chuckle.
“No.”
All eyes shifted to Red Raven, the only member of the club who could command such a presence.
“To attack their base would be like stepping into the hornet’s nest without regard for the consequences,” Red Raven said. “It would take but a moment to realize what a terrible mistake we have made and what a terrible price we would wind up paying. I fear that if we were to do such a thing, all of us would perish, either at the moment or when they would hunt us down. The Fallen Saints do not care for keeping peace. They only care for attacking those who have wronged them.”
Patriot didn’t even bother to speak back up. He knew that while Red Raven may have only been the Secretary, he was like a shadow president in a lot of ways—his words could command and control a room. If he shot an idea down for being foolish, there was no further debate on the idea.
“Alright, any other ideas?” I said.
“What about a trap?” Patriot said, perhaps trying to make up for his rejected idea. “Give them what appears to be an easy target, and then take them out accordingly.”
I was pretty sure all of us waited a couple of beats to see if Red Raven would dispute what had just been said. But he remained silent, instead, his heavy breathing the only thing audible from him at that moment.
“I kind of like the idea,” I said. “How do we feel about it?”
“It’s something we haven’t done before,” Axle said. “Could catch them off guard.”
“Agreed,” Butch said.
“Though devious, such a move would have the Fallen Saints walking upon eggshells of sorts,” Father Marcellus said. “I believe it’s a good idea, Patriot.”
“Thanks,” he said.
“Alright, let’s put it to a quick vote,” I said. “All in favor of using an ambush as a tactical maneuver to retaliate on the Saints?”
We didn’t even have to go around the circle. Everyone said “aye” shortly after, and it was put into place.
“Now then,” I said. “I’d like us to take a day or two to come up with some ideas for an ambush. Obviously, the nature of an ambush is such that we can’t telegraph it. If we attack today, it’ll be obvious. But if we can set something up for later... ”
“Then it has a much greater chance of working,” Axle said.
“Yep,” I said. “Anyone have anything else they need to say?”
A brief silence fell. I saw Axle and Butch exchanging a glance, but nothing came of that. I briefly locked eyes with everyone, and when nothing else came, I went for the gavel.
