Page 39 of Avenging Devil: Part 2

“Can’t deny it.” I raise my chin at the Vegas prez. “He stepped up when I had to step back. He’s a good fucker, Red. He deserves this.” I wave my hand around the room. “He deserves all of us.”

“As any of us do, Brother.” He winks. “Which seems to be my cue.”

Another of his ear-piercing whistles that makes me wish I wasn’t standing so close, then, when he’s got everyone’s attention, he launches into a rousing cry. “Ride Satan’s Devils. Satan’s Devils Ride together.”

The battle cry immediately taken up from all sides makes my rheumy eyes water. As men thump their fists over their hearts, I remind myself, this is what this life stands for. We ride and live free, and when necessary, we all come together.

While forty or so riders travelling together is certainly not unknown, we decided to depart Vegas in smaller groups, not wanting to arouse suspicion nor the attention of the cops. Especially not since we are armed to the gills. As for the two crash trucks, well, I’d been mightily impressed by the toys Preacher had brought in his plane, along with Slick’s and Viper’s. I wasn’t the only sergeant-at-arms to have his eyes glistening with excitement, not having seen such heavy artillery or explosives since I gave my all to Uncle Sam. They’ve even got a fucking grenade launcher.

Drummer takes pole position, and, as the most interested parties, Lost and Red head out with the first group, along with their officers, me included. The first to arrive, I waste only a moment rubbing my leg before dismounting my bike and heading for the truck that Stormy had driven in yesterday from Utah.

The back doors open, and Drummer, Lost and Red step inside. Without asking permission, taking the “forgiveness later” route, I, too, push my way in, immediately enthralled by the high-tech interior. Token’s going to go ape when he sees this.

“Hey, I’m Stormy.” The man sitting behind a row of monitors spares just a second to twist his head around. “This is Gears.” He indicates the man beside him. Whether he hears the reciprocal introductions I have no idea, as he doesn’t acknowledge them, just focuses his attention to the front once again.

I don’t mind rudeness if it finds us Niran.

The sound of motorcycles roaring then sudden silence alerts me that the next group have just ridden in.

“Storm, whatcha got, Brother?”

As I’m jostled, I make way for Snatcher to squeeze into the tight space behind me, then find I’m flattened against Lost’s side as Preacher loads himself up as well.

“Got two drones up,” Stormy talks without turning. “Gears has mapped what we think are weak spots, and places we may gain entry. We think,” he points to the middle screen in front of him, “that most of the members are here, in the main part of the clubhouse.”

“Two men rode out earlier this morning, they haven’t come back. No other comings and goings since daylight,” the aforesaid Gears remarks. “If they work, it looks like it’s all onsite.”

So it sounds like they’re all in their lair, except for the two who had ridden out. Lucky for them, they could be the only survivors.

“Easy money trading in women and guns,” Preacher snarls. “Doubt they earn legit, and most drug dealing is done in the evenings.”

Ignoring that comment, Drummer asks, “What about the outbuilding that you said was guarded?”

Now positioned so I have a sideways view of Stormy’s face, I see him wince and his jaw tighten. “They got a delivery last night. Two girls were dragged kicking and screaming from a truck that pulled up in front of that building.” Stormy adjusts the screen so the one he mentioned is in plain sight. “After that, there was a steady stream of members going in and out.”

Snatcher curses. “They’re trying out the new girls? Making sure they’re ready to get to work?”

Stormy gives a grim nod. “That’s my reading of it. Or just using them for their own entertainment.”

“You think Saffie’s being held there?” The thought makes me feel sick, but I still have to ask.

Again, Stormy grimaces. “Can’t say one way or another. She’s supposedly Duke’s, but who knows with perverts like them, he might…” His voice trails off but I easily fill in the blanks.

“It doesn’t matter,” Snatcher says. “We’re getting all the women out. It will make our job easier if she’s not in the main building.”

“Sure,” Preacher says enthusiastically. “We can just blow that shit up.”

“Not with Niran inside,” I snarl.

“No sign of him as yet,” Gears says moving a mouse, switching from screen to screen.

“Last group have just come in,” a man states from behind me.

“Make way, give me some space,” a voice behind him demands.

Turning, I see Demon, and try to make myself smaller, not wanting to be chucked out. But it’s actually Red who gives up his place to him.

No one seems to know what to do when Swift is the last to squeeze herself in, but she doesn’t give us a moment to feel awkward about crowding her.

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