Ballistic didn’t say anything else, just left. War cursed and shoved one of the chairs across the floor, the screech of it making me flinch. “I’m getting sick of this shit.”
“You and me both,” I muttered. “But they’re not going to tell us what it is so there is no point wasting our energy on it, not when we know where Omen is.”
“You think someone is gonna show up looking for him?” he asked, jamming his hands on his hips.
“No.”
“Me either. They’ve thrown him to the wolves, they don’t give a shit about him.”
“How long are we gonna let it play out?” I twisted my hand behind my back, where my gun was resting.
“We’re not. Let’s go.”
I followed him out of the basement. We’d suffer the consequences later. We needed answers. And Omen had them.
We didn’t want to give anything away, either to our brothers, or Omen so we parked our bikes away from the neighborhood and walked in. As we approached, War’s phone started to ring, then mine did but we both ignored it. I didn’t know where they were hiding out, but they couldn’t miss us as we moved towards the house, being careful to stay out of sight of the windows of the address where Omen was holed up.
The house was run down and tired looking, but it wasn’t in that bad of a condition. There were no cars or bikes on the driveway, the place looked empty. It was only that he had actually been seen here that we knew anyone was in the house. I didn’t know who it belonged to and I didn’t care. All I knew was, Omen was inside.
“You’re gonna get our butt cracks fucked real hard,” a voice came from the side of the house. I turned around to see Handlebar standing there, a concerned look on his face, his gun held down by his thigh.
“Take the back,” War told him. Handlebar looked hesitant to follow his VP’s order. “Get someone back there with you. He’s not running out of here.”
Handlebar eventually nodded and disappeared around the side of the house. There was plenty of foliage and an old fence between this property and the one next door. We stood behind a large oak tree in the front, giving Handlebar and whoever else was here, a chance to get into position. Someone will have called King or Dirt by now.
“War, you need to keep your shit together,” I told him.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“Let me handle him.”
“Are you serious?”
“Very,” I gripped his wrist when he tried to turn away. “We’re talking about her life here. We need information and I’m good at getting it. If we go in there and beat the living crap out of him, we won’t get a thing. Let me do my job.”
“Fuck,” he hissed, his fists clenched. “We need to hurry up before they arrive all guns fucking blazing. Handlebar is right.”
“We knew that coming here,” I pointed out, looking back at the house. I thought I saw a curtain twitch. “We don’t have time to argue. Let me lead.”
“Fine. I’ll give you ten minutes, then I’m fucking him up.”
“I can work with that,” I grinned at him. “Let’s go do this.”
We walked quickly up the overgrown path and up a couple of steps of the porch.
“Can I at least kick the door in?”
“Well, we’re not exactly here to knock.”
War’s smile was maniacal. I let him go ahead of me. We were both big guys but kicking doors in wasn’t easy. Certainly not as easy as they made it look on TV. But War had so much pent-up rage coursing through him that it only took three tries before the locks splintered and the door burst in.
We heard the shouts immediately and rushed inside. I glanced around to get my bearings, but the shouting grew louder, coming from the back of the house.
War took his gun out and ran after him. I’d allow them to subdue Omen. Someone had to check out the rest of the house to make sure we weren’t walking into danger.
“You are out of your damn mind,” a voice said behind me. I spun around but I’d recognized the voice. Felix was carefully closing the door over. We didn’t need to be making any more of a disturbance than necessary.
“Someone called Dirt?”
