“Yeah, but Mama always told me not to show up empty-handed when dropping in on a friend.”
“Let’s give this fucker a handful then,” Rabbit said.
Doom, Alamo, Rabbit, Otter, Badger, Dash, Orion, and I piled into the panel van, and drove the quarter mile to where Sugar Bear and the Spiders were hiding. Ozzy and Milky followed close behind in the Scout and we parked on a small ridge overlooking the group of industrial buildings. The entire complex was surrounded by a cyclone fence but was otherwise unsecured.
“The plan is no one dies,” I said as I checked my weapon. “We go in, grab Sugar Bear, and get the fuck out before anyone gets shot.”
“What if the Spiders aren’t too keen on your plan?” Alamo asked.
“That’s what you’re here for,” I replied. “Remember. I want heavy cover fire from you, Otter, Dash, and Badger the second we’re in. Doom and I will grab Sugar Bear, and Ozzy and Orion will cover the exit point where Milky will be waiting to pick us up.”
Nods all around signified that everyone was ready to roll so we climbed out of the van and gathered behind the Scout.
Ozzy ran his hand gently along the rear fender of the Scout. He looked like he was about to puke, so I placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Send me the bill,” I said, but knew it would do little to comfort him.
Milky got out of the still running Scout and put his rig in place, making a few adjustments before giving me a thumbs up.
“Okay, let’s go,” I said, and the seven of us moved quietly down the ridge towards the cabinet shop, careful to stay hidden out of sight. When we’d almost reached the fence, I sent the signal text to Milky and immediately heard the roar of the Scout’s V8 engine.
Seconds later, the unmanned Scout flew down the side of the ridge, past us, barreling towards the complex. The large SUV tore through the cyclone fence like it was tissue paper and crashed into the side entrance of the shop with full force. The massive reinforced grill did its job by tearing an extra wide hole for us to fit through. Doom and Ozzy tossed several flash grenades through the opening, and moments later, we filed inside.
As soon as we were in the shop, Alamo, Badger, Dash, and I sprayed the interior of the building with a barrage of non-lethal, rubber riot control bullets, while the rest stayed behind them in tight formation. Although we currently had the element of surprise, that wouldn’t last long and we knew the Spiders would be returning fire with lead, so we had to move quickly.
“Holy shit, man. What the fuck?” one of the Spiders yelled out amidst the chaos, and then, sure enough, the sound of gunfire exploded.
Through the haze of grenade smoke, I could make out at least four Spiders in the main shop area but didn’t see Sugar Bear anywhere. Ozzy jumped on Snapper who’d been knocked down by Alamo’s shots, removing a knife from his belt before zip-tying his hands behind his back.
Another Spider took off, firing haphazardly behind him as he ran toward an office located at the opposite end of the shop floor. Badger and Dash took off after him, and Alamo and Doom split up to search for Sugar Bear, leaving Otter and me to deal with the last two Spiders on our own. One was a guy I recognized as Snots. He was curled up in the fetal position on the floor near where one of the flash grenades had detonated and was clearly concussed.
I grabbed Snots by his cut and sat him up. His eyes were completely bloodshot, and he was bleeding from both ears.
“Where the fuck is Sugar Bear?” I asked, shaking him violently, but he was barely conscious. I zip-tied him and left to check on Otter, who had his hands full with a massive Spider who I didn’t recognize. The guy towered over Otter, who was doing his best to avoid total annihilation by his opponent.
Otter and the Spider I decided to call ‘Brick Shit House,’ were standing toe-to-toe, slugging it out, and let’s just say our boy was not ahead on the judge’s scorecard. As I approached, Otter took a shot to the ribs that would leave the other biker pissing blood for two days, and rather than stick around to see him take another, I decided to give him a hand. Or, more accurately, a butt.
I came up behind ‘Brick Shit House’ and cracked him as hard as I could in the back of the head with the stock of my semi-automatic rifle, hoping he’d drop instantly. That hope was soon dashed when he spun around and punched me in the chest with what felt more like a sledgehammer than a fist. I staggered back and fell on my ass as ‘Mr. House’ advanced toward me, loading up his right hand for another shot. However, before the giant could reach me, Otter flew in low from the left side, taking him out at the knees with a sickening snap.
The giant Spider hit the ground with a thud, hands to his knees, groaning in agony. I’d seen career-ending hits on the football field that were nicer than what I’d just witnessed, and admittedly, as a doctor, I felt bad for him. As a soldier at war, however, it was either him or me, and I’d like to dance at my daughter’s wedding one day.
“Stay the fuck back!” I heard Sugar Bear shout from the direction of the office, and I looked to see Dash, Alamo, Orion, and Ozzy’s cuts. All four men had their hands up and were walking backwards toward me.
I got to my feet and raised my rifle and could then see Sugar Bear walking toward the Dogs and he wasn’t alone. He held Badger close and he had a pistol to his head as they walked.
“I mean it,” Sugar Bear, shouted. “Anyone comes toward me, I do this prick!”
As my fellow Dogs got closer to me and fanned out, Sugar Bear caught sight of me and my rifle.
“Don’t fuckin’ move, Doc, or I’ll blow a hole in this kid,” Sugar Bear said as he continued moving toward me.
“I heard you,” I replied, calmly.
“I don’t see you lowering that gun,” he barked back.
Time slowed and all five of my senses heightened the same way they did when I was in surgery. In these heightened moments, I was able to weigh options and make high stakes decisions within nanoseconds. I watched Sugar Bear carefully and waited for the right surgical moment.
“I will,” I replied, and kept the rifle leveled at him.
