Page 9 of Stranger Gifts

“Fuck that would make me want to shoot myself,” said Alec. Spook gave a shy grin, nodding. “Sorry, man.”

“Don’t be. I did think about it. I learned techniques over the years to calm down the noise. Being in remote locations helps me, like this place. Plus your stealth netting is definitely helping. I’m going to be working with Code and Sly later to see what you guys have and how I can help. I feel like I have a new lease on life.”

“Well, I’m not sure we’ll ever understand all of your gifts but they’re welcome here,” said Gaspar.

“I don’t understand him,” smirked Kane pointing to Trak. “I suspect very few people understand him. He speaks to animals. He appears out of nowhere. He’s quieter than any human I’ve ever met. Not to mention his daughter-in-law, Wilson’s daughter, who speaks to ghosts.”

“We all speak to ghosts technically,” chuckled Nine. “It’s another gift given to us here on the property. Our resident ghosts are part of our team and have helped us tremendously. Even Griffin is still part of the team today. Without him, we may not have found and disposed of Michelle.”

“I used to say that I would never understand any of what happened to us but I’m not sure I’ll understand any of this either,” said Kane. “I’m grateful for it. I know that for damn sure. Thank you all for allowing us to be a part of this team.”

“Brother, my Mama would say that it was meant to be,” smiled Rafe. Baptiste laughed, nodding at them.

“And we all know two things. Don’t argue with Mama and know that she’s always right.”

CHAPTER SIX

“We have all the trackers and comms devices in the new members,” said Wilson standing beside Sly. “Some of them technically don’t need the comms because of the way they communicate with one another but they need it to speak with all of us.”

“We don’t mind,” said Hawke.

“Your name might be an issue,” smirked Gaspar. “We have one Hawk. How will we know the difference?”

“Well, I’m Hawke with an ‘e’, you could identify me as that. Or you could simply ask for Hawk the sharp-shooter or Hawke the bird man,” he laughed.

“I’m sure we’ll figure it all out,” laughed Gaspar. Skull and Razor walked into the offices staring at the group.

“Hi, what’s up?”

“I’m glad you’re all here. We’re going to need some help. Remember the motorcycle gang that wanted to buy our bikes?” Gaspar nodded. “We told them we didn’t have the time to produce that many bikes right now. They didn’t like that answer and have shown up at the shop.”

“Let’s go fellas. Time to get your feet wet.”

They took the back route to the shop, entering through the design and mechanical part of the shop. They had more than twenty-five mechanics, designers, fabricators, and artists working for the shop now, along with their regulars. Whiskey turned and gave them a nod from the doorway.

“What’s going on?” asked Ghost.

“They’re just looking around for now. Blade is out there, along with Callan. They pulled him into the store asking him to create a drawing of their logo that they want on the tanks.”

“Ballsy,” frowned Ghost. “How many?”

“Fifteen,” said Whiskey. Ghost looked behind him to see more than fifteen men. Plus it was fifteen men with extraordinary skills.

“Well, let’s see how we can help them on their way.”

Ghost walked through the doorway, the others following and the motorcycle gang members looked up, smirking at the men.

“Can I help you boys?” asked Ghost.

“Just trying to convince your man that we’re going to buy at least a dozen bikes from you but apparently our money isn’t green enough.”

“It’s not that, as I’m sure he explained. We’re backlogged on builds. There’s a two-year wait for bikes.”

“Sounds like a production problem,” said the man looking around at the bikes in the showroom. “We’ll buy a dozen of these and have the paint redone.”

“Mister, all of these are ear-marked for other customers. We can’t take your orders right now. I can recommend some other shops that build great custom bikes.”

“We don’t want other bikes. We want Patriot bikes,” ground out the man. The dozen men with him were all dirty and road tired. They weren’t neat, clean bikers like your see riding their bikes to work. These guys were on the road all the time, probably wreaking havoc on whatever town they passed through.

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