Page 67 of Static

"Ah fuck off, War," Idaho sighed.

We followed Trask up the stairs and made an immediate right-hand turn. His office was down the hall on the left. We watched as he settled behind his mahogany desk. His office was dripping in opulence. It was all a show. A fuck you to anyone he let in here. See how rich I am. Look what you can't have. It was like the house of a drug dealer, or a politician.

"Talk fast," Trask snapped, folding his hands together.

"You're laundering money for Fremont," Lock said, raising a brow. "Stop."

Silence descended as Trask waited for more. He'd asked for Lock to give him the short version and he had. I grinned.

"You think you can come into my place of business... into my world, and make demands?" Trask asked with an incredulous laugh. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"I'm the man who's going to ruin your fucking world if you don't comply with my demands," Lockout told him. His eyes clashed with Trask's. One was fire, the other ice. Lock was cool and collected. For now. God help Trask if he pissed him off though. We were here to help with that. Well, Cypher was. I was here to learn the location of Trask's office. To save time for the second half of this.

"That's not possible," Trask said, all arrogance and confidence.

"No?" Cypher asked. "You sure about that?"

Trask hesitated and looked between the two men. He made his decision. "I'm sure. You can't prove a thing, and I'm done entertaining this bullshit. Get out of my office, and out of my club."

"Make us," Lock told him. Then his eyes shot to me and he dipped his head once.

I turned to leave. Shit was going to hit the fan, but I wouldn't be here for that part. Trotting down the stairs, I gave our men a wide smile. "Operation is a go."

"What?" One of the security guards asked, but I didn't stop to answer.

I went straight out the front door and headed toward our bikes and van. "Clock’s ticking," I told Hush.

"You got the location?" he asked.

"Yeah."

Hush turned and looked over the group. "You know where you're goin' Riptide?"

"Yeah, the building plans were online and easy enough to find."

Trask's office had been the only unknown in this. And whether he would cooperate with us. Lock didn't try too hard to get him to bend to our will. Fuck, who knew if we could have trusted him if he promised to stop. Tara? We'd trusted her. Troy and Trask were built from the same fucking cloth. They were scum and at least we could put one out of business today.

"Demo, Hell, and Priest, go with Rip. Watch his back," Hush ordered.

"Scythe, Toxic, and Butcher. You're with me and Static." He pointed to the van.

"You're not keeping anyone with the van?" Toxic asked.

"Nothin' left of value in the van once we pack up the coke," Hush replied. He looked over his shoulder at Rip. "Give us a minute. We'll all go in together."

We quickly stuffed bricks of cocaine into our jeans and hid them anywhere we could for the quick walk to the building. We went around the back and stopped next to a window.

"Alright," Hush said. "Make sure-" He broke off when a shattering sound interrupted. He glared over at Demo, who'd just put his elbow through the pane of glass. "No one's around first," Hush bit out. "Dammit."

Demo just grinned and shrugged as he reached through and flicked the lock on the window, then opened it for everyone to climb in. "Worked, didn't it?"

"Do you have to destroy everything?" Hell asked as he ducked into the opening.

"What?" Demo asked, sounding a bit mournful.

"These guys are worse than you," I muttered to Toxic and Butcher.

Toxic grinned. "Where do you think I learned how to do what I do?"

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