Play Dirty: Devil's Mustangs MC

When Jager is done, he stands and holds the paper up with the three columns. Each of us, his main crew, gets one final look at it, and we nod our approval solemnly. No one is going to argue about any of it now that Jager has set it in stone. This is Jager’s call, and questioning this death list would be like questioning George Washington as he sends his troops to battle.

When we all confer, he hands the list to Walton, who begins the phone, email, and text message chain. Road captains slowly file into the clubhouse as Red Dog runs through the plan over and over and over again, making sure everyone is clear on what is supposed to be happening when and where they are going to be positioned at. There are lookouts, guards for our clubhouse, men to drive the ammo cars. Even some of the more fierce women of the club are recruited to take part by helping back at the clubhouse with the wounded who are brought in. Three of them even offer to take over if the shit gets too hot.

But when everything's said and done, within two hours time, everyone has been alerted. Everyone knows their station. We’re ready to ride. Red Dog, Ace, and I, the members of the recovery team positioned at the repair shop, set our watches to synchronize. At one o’clock, we ride out to rescue my daughter. At one o'clock, we save my girls.

I walk silently towards my motorcycle parked near the rear. The clubhouse has gone quiet in anticipation; the windows are, again, boarded up in case of another attack. The only souls left outside are my team. Before I rev up my engine, I place my hands on the bars and grip tightly. I look up towards the sky and ask that whatever higher power that’s up there is listening to me now. This is my chance to do what I said I would do. If it takes my own life to bring Maddie and Michelle back home to me alive, so be it. I just hope that sacrifice is enough in the end.





Chapter 30: Metal on the Ground


MICHELLE

It’s back to pitch black. No sights. No light. No bit of hope for any of the three of us down here. Outside, I can hear the men screaming at one another, each of them shouting louder than the next. There are a couple more shots of the gun, each one of them sending shivers down my spine and shaking me to my core. I cover my head with my hands, trying to drown out the noise with my sweaty palm, but they still come, unpredictable and chaotic.

And then there’s Maddie. She’s hysterical now, crying out for her dad as if her saying it loud enough will make it come true. Her sobs are heavy and full of tears I can practically hear as they fall down her face in the dark.

She still hasn’t moved from the spot they dropped her at as far as I can tell. But I can’t seem to make myself to find her. I am too afraid that if any of us make a sudden movement, the men upstairs will hear us and have reason to put us next on their hit list. Though, realistically, I already know we are.

I can hear a man standing above where I am sitting. It’s the same man from before, the one who walked in on Maddie taking that phone call. His voice echoes off of the plank and through the broken pipes loud enough so it even catches Maddie’s attention. “What the fuck do you mean they’re at the clubhouse? Who is there? Who is guarding it?”

I sit up straighter as he goes on raging. “If those fuckers think they can mess with us in our own turf, they have another thing coming from them.” He pauses as he plots his counterattack. “Tell the boys at the house to hold it down until I can get ahold of some reinforcements. Send Pedro and Tom-Tom their way to flank them in the alleyway. Then call in Yazoo and his boys to take care of them from the back. They’ll never know what is coming for them!”

He laughs long and hard, the floor shaking as he beats his foot into the ground. The idea of laughing over a war is beyond me, let alone gleefully sending in troops of friends and family to do the dirty work. But the man above me isn’t just a regular guy; he isn’t even like Cal. The invitation of death is like a calling for him, and I can tell how eager he is to get out there and join them just from the dripping tone of his voice. But he’s disappointed. He’s got to pull rank here to guard over us. After that phone call, I doubt he can trust any of his men to obey his orders completely, especially when it comes to an innocent little girl like Maddie.

I, on the other hand, should be excited, even thrilled. The attackers going after the clubhouse with such force have to be Cal and the Mustangs. But my heart is sitting at the bottom of my stomach as I think of the men dying for absolutely nothing. They’re at the wrong place, probably at least five miles away from us! While they are attacking the empty clubhouse, we’re probably closer to death than ever. And what will happen when Cal finds he comes up empty handed? I shake my head, trying to erase the thoughts of him seeing us lifeless and long cold.

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