Page 86 of Vengeance

Beckett laughs. “Looks more like you have a task.”

“I know you can’t give us specifics of what you did overseas for your Special Ops, but are any of you trained snipers?” Jennings asks.

“Yeah, why?” Mack asks.

“How many of you?”

Patriot smirks. “All six of us, technically.”

“I’m a little rusty, but I know what I’m doing,” Gunner says.

Jennings can’t help but wonder if Reagan Gentry is one of the women planning to leave and take their daughter with her. Gunner threatened to walk when they almost didn’t allow a former cop into the club, but they were talked into it. And it seemed to work out for the best. Unless she plans to leave.

“Why?” York asks.

“Because we’re going to take you away from protection duty. We have a plan, and it’ll require a lot of ammo, a lot of blood, and very short timeframes,” Jennings says.

York perks up. “What’s our assignment?”

“We’re going back to the classics,” Derek says. “We want to take out as many Slashers as we can in a forty-eight-hour timeframe.”

“How many do you think you could kill?” Psycho asks.

Shrugging, Gunner says, “It depends on how many people are at a specific location. If there are high numbers, and there’s a proper distance to ensure no one will spot us to take us out, we could take out everyone they have gathered together.”

“You know who we could really use,” Patriot says and looks at his buddies.

West shakes his head. “No.”

“Come on, you know-”

“Do you know how long it took me to get the fuck away from him? Too fucking long. No. No.”

Gunner laughs. “You just never got along because he was the one guy you could never intimidate. The one guy bigger and badder than you.”

“Who are you talking about?” Psycho asks.

Jennings has to admit, he finds himself intrigued, too. Not many people are larger than West. At least height-wise.

“No!” West says. “If you call him, he’ll come, help us out, and then he’ll want to join. No one will give him orders as a prospect because they’ll be scared of him.”

“What are you complaining about?” Gunner asks. “I’m the only one of the six of us who had to prospect. You got fucking lucky.”

“Because you needed bodies, that’s all it was,” Mack says with a laugh. “But if we’re voting, I vote yes.”

“Fuck you!” West shouts.

Psycho slams his fist on the table. “Who the fuck are you talking about?”

“He goes by the name Undertaker,” Patriot says. “He’s a badass. He’s even scarier than you, dude. He’s six foot ten and three hundred pounds of pure muscle. Doesn’t speak much unless he’s drunk, and he’s a tank. Gives zero fucks, grew up in the foster system, and made it through our missions with very few medical issues. And you’d think his size would make him bad at sniping, but he’s the best damn sniper they’d ever seen.”

“Would he come and help?” Jennings asks.

“York’s right that he’d probably want to join the club,” Gunner says. “And he would be a difficult prospect.”

TK narrows his eyes. “He can’t take orders?”

“No, he can take orders. Damn good and well-trained. People just tend to fear him and don’t give them. Truth is, he’d probably get bored prospecting.”

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