“Six King’s Men just drove by, sir. They’re…circling back. Except for one. He looks like he’s setting up shop.”
Shit.
“We’re hunkered down in place, but they’re just going to wait for us to come out or to ride it out. We’re pinned down.”
“Do we have anyone not at the clubhouse right now?”
“Just a couple prospects.”
They’d be useless. While some of our prospects had military experience, it wasn’t like five-star generals just fell into our lap. We usually got the privates, the infantrymen, and the soldiers on the ground. They weren’t the strategists.
“All right, everyone! We have our base, we have food and water here, we remain in place until we can make—”
But then gunshots sounded. We all took cover. Nothing happened, and no one got hurt.
“We remain in place until we can figure out what the hell to do,” I said. “But no one is getting fucking killed without reason.”
And so, for about the next ten minutes, the Devil’s Patriots swarmed by and laid down fire. Night had fallen. No one got hurt.
But whenever we peeked out with our cameras, we could see that the Devil’s Patriots now had about ten men perfectly positioned, ready to lay down fire on one of us the instant we got out. These were not disorganized bikers who had a grudge against us.
These were well-trained men who knew exactly what the fuck they were doing and how the fuck to do it.
Things were looking grim.
And then they got worse.
We noticed a truck pulling up, its positioning blocking the view of someone getting out on the passenger’s side. I told everyone to hold their fire, lest they get a dozen bullets to the skull in response.
“Satan.”
I didn’t recognize the voice from memory, but I didn’t need to. Only one person spoke with that kind of confidence and certainty.
King.
“You have quite the fortress here,” he said. “It is often said that a man’s home is like his castle. In that regard, you have quite the kingdom here. However, you must surely know that whatever kingdom you think you have pales in comparison to me. I am, after all, King.”
This guy was not only trying to kill us or take over us; he also sounded like a snooty professor from a university. I fucking hated him even more than before.
“I had a feeling the girl would betray you, and so I had her car bugged so that we could track her.”
How the fu—
“And sure enough, like the little saint that she is, she led us right to you. Or, should I say, we knew she’d lead you right to us. What good is it to commit a high-profile crime in a wealthy neighborhood when you can quietly do it in the ghetto of a forgettable city? At least you might die knowing that she cared for you.”
The last fucking thing I needed was this in front of the entire club. I was seconds away from just saying lay fucking fire on King. He had to be vulnerable right now.
“But here’s the thing. No one has to die today. I mean it. I’m a man of my word. Hailey will tell you that. You come out that front door right now—you and only you, Satan—with your hands raised. If you do so, I will assume control of the club. You will color up and become part of the King’s Men. And you will have full autonomy here. Nothing will change except the color of your cuts and your club name.”
Nothing will change.
Except we won’t be men of our own control. We’ll be under your fucking heel.
“I would say you have until the count of ten, but let’s be honest here, you have quite the fortress built up, and I have no desire as of now to make this a public spectacle like what unfolded in California and New Mexico. So, I’ll just say this. We can keep you pinned down longer than you can remain in place. And it’s not going to be a good look for your business tomorrow morning when a bunch of customers come by to see the place closed and a bunch of bikers slacking off.”
I fumed. I desperately needed to come up with a strategy, but we didn’t have any secret passageways. We could send some guys to the roof, but the door to the roof was about as quiet as a fucking fat lady at an opera.
“So, you know the terms. That is my only offer, Satan. I—”
