Page 43 of The Sentinels

All eyes were suddenly on me. "Unless we take them out before we get the chance, that's the plan. I want to make sure the rest of their club knows how dead serious we are about them leaving."

"And dangerous," Tanner added. "They need to understand that the Sentinels aren't afraid to do what it takes to protect our town, our families." His gaze made a quick sweep over us. "We go in shooting but only long enough to gain control. You identify any civilians; get them the fuck out of there. Are we ready to do this?"

"Fuck yeahs" and fists pumps were their fervent reactions. No one wanted to mention that this could end up being a fight that we wouldn't win, that some of us might die. It didn't matter to men like us. This war was no different from the ones that we'd faced in the military. Tanner gave the signal, and we revved our bikes and took off. The bar was about a quarter mile down the road.

The image of Emerson's sweet face and tight-as-fuck body came into mind as I rode along side Gabe. I was glad I'd fucked her. If I didn't make it, at least I'd meet the devil having had a taste of heaven. I pushed her from my mind and reached for the back of my pants where I kept my piece. I noticed several other brothers do the same. We were ready, braced for whatever came our fucking way.

I didn't expect to see many bikes parked at the bar, not with the campgrounds right across the street. A quick glance toward the campground showed that there were tents and campers set up. A fuck ton of bikes were present, too, which was a good indication of the numbers that we could expect to see inside the bar. As anticipated, when we got close, several men wearing Hellraisers cuts stumbled through the doorway outside to see who we were.

Mike, Heath, and Coffee had silencers on their guns and took them out quickly and quietly. We pulled up close to the entrance, cut our engines, and dismounted. We wasted no time in rushing toward the door and kicking it open. Chaos erupted when the fuckers inside got a look at our cuts and the weapons in our hands and began to scatter. Shouting and cursing shattered the air, women screamed.

I shot toward the ceiling. "No one fucking move!" I bellowed loudly, searching the faces for the three brothers we'd sent in earlier. A shot rang out, and a man who'd pulled his gun fell backwards into the seat he'd been vacating. I gave Sid a chin lift for being on the ball. I made eye contact with the bartender, who rapidly disappeared to the back somewhere. The servers did the same thing. They'd been around bikers long enough to understand what was about to go down, and what they needed to do when there was trouble.

In the space of a minute, a handful of us were holding a room full of Hellraisers frozen where they were. It was clear that most of them were fucking drunk or high and unable to do much more than blink with confusion as they wobbled unsteadily on their feet.

"Hands where we can see them!" Tanner shouted, moving further into the room. "Civilians, raise your hands!"

Half a dozen hands, all women’s, slowly rose at his sharp command, and it was easy to understand why they hadn't left earlier. They were sitting on the laps of some of the Hellraisers, but I could tell that it was against their will. They looked terrified, with tear tracks lining their cheeks, their hair messed up. Their clothes looked disheveled and slightly dirty, too. Buttons were undone. They were young and scared shitless. They didn't deserve to be in the hands of these bastards.

"Can we trust you ladies to just go home and not say a word to anyone?" Tanner asked. They didn't hesitate to assure him by nodding, their eyes turning bright with silent relief. "Then go." They scampered to their feet and rushed to the front door without looking back. "Now it looks like it's just you assholes and us," he smirked. "Coffee, Mike, gather up their weapons." Tanner moved to the table closest to him, glaring at the occupants. "You fuckers, move!"

They took their time scraping their chairs back, glaring back at Tanner with eyes dulled by some sort of substance. Their expressions revealed that they'd have liked nothing better than to take our president down. I smirked as they stumbled away to stand with some of their brothers against the bar, their fingers inching close to their guns.

"Go ahead and reach for those guns," I snarled, drawing their attention. "I haven't killed anyone yet today."

Tanner tilted the table until everything on the top slid off onto the floor. Then he dragged the table into the center of the room. He didn't need to say why. Coffee and Mike automatically set down the weapons they were gathering there.

"There's a fuck lot more of us than you," someone found the courage to say.

"And yet look who's got the upper hand," Gabe taunted smugly. "Where the fuck is your president?"

And where the fuck were our three brothers?

I'd already been looking around for Maniac, but I hadn't spotted him. Hadn't spotted Dawson, Jigger, or Hock either. Where the fuck were they? "We're missing some brothers." A sarcastic laugh drew my attention to a fat motherfucker with tattoos and piercings all over his round, ugly face. I walked over to where he was sitting. "You got something to say, asshole?"

He glared up at me. "Fuck you!"

I pistol whipped him across the face, satisfied to see the open gash on his cheek when he swung back to me. I knew that he'd never follow up with the threat that I saw in his eyes. Keeping his gaze on me, he turned his head slightly and spit on the floor. It was then that I heard gunfire from somewhere outside.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

I glanced over at Tanner.

"Everyone but Gabe and Ace stay here!" he bellowed, moving towards the door. "Once you have all their guns, bring them over!"

The three of us ran outside the bar and toward the campgrounds where the gunfire had come from. By the sound of it, there were two shooters. Charlie and Rod were somewhere positioned nearby, but we didn't know where. Their location became clear as we reached the campground and saw that a small crowd of Hellraisers had gathered at the base of a tree. It looked like a standoff of sorts.

We were cautious as we made our way there. There had to have been at least thirty Hellraisers in the bar, and now I could make out around eight or nine more standing under the tree. No telling where the others were, and so far there’d been no sign of Maniac, Boomer, or our three missing brothers. I didn't like the prickly feeling I was getting at the back of my neck.

They were so intent on the conversation that they had going with one of my brothers who was positioned in the tree with his rifle that we were practically upon them before they noticed. Once they did they swung our way, and suddenly we were all facing each other with our weapons drawn.

"What the fuck?" one of them swore. His eyes darted around wildly as if he expected to see more of us. "You fucking Sentinels have some balls, coming into our camp and—"

"Hold on, asshole!" Tanner ordered sharply. "This is a public campground, you don't fucking own it. We're not here to shoot the place up."

"Then what was that fucking gunfire we heard earlier?" a grizzled old coot demanded between tobacco stained lips.

Tanner shrugged, and said, as if it weren’t a big deal, "Just a few warning shots to get everyone's attention."

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