Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 188(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 188(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
“Only the Iron Tzars knew who Brick was,” Sting said in a soft, deadly voice.
“Yep,” Wylde agreed in a cheerful voice. “Good thing I’m the motherfuckin’ tech guy.”
Wylde knew who did this. Who had ratted out the club.
“Atlas, is the kill box ready?”
“Absolutely, prez. Ready for several days of work. However long you want this to take.”
“A long fuckin’ time, Atlas.”
There was silence on the radio. At first, I wondered who Sting suspected, but then I realized he was confirming what he already knew. We met and locked gazes. When I shook my head slightly, he said, “Takes a maniac to catch a maniac…”
Maniac. He was one of the oldest members of Iron Tzars and had called for Warlock’s patch more than once while he was with Bev. He hadn’t voiced his opposition to Sting becoming president, but he hadn’t given his support either. Overall, he’d kept quiet. Keeping his head down, as it were. He’d done everything anyone had asked of him since I’d taken over without question or comment. But this didn’t surprise me one bit.
“When this is over, I want everyone not on this channel rounded up and taken to the barn. Every one of you keep an eye on everyone else. I want a full and complete report of who did what and to what degree. Anyone hanging back without express orders, I want to know about it. Anyone missin’ a target or killing without permission, I want to know that too. Discord in this club because of Warlock’s actions and my taking over ends tonight. Even if I have to kill every single motherfucker in here.”
There were eight people on the channel, including me. A very small core group of men Sting trusted with his life. I’d helped him make this list when he first realized he was going to have to do something about Warlock. Some were officers like Wylde and Atlas, while others were patched members holding the line, so to speak. They were simply there because Sting and I trusted them. Not to be a special kill squad or to rat out their brothers. This was the first time Sting had ever given such an order. To the man, they all sounded off strong and clear. Just like I knew they would.
It wasn’t long before the SUVs smashed through the fence on the edge of our property. There was a dirt road leading through a large field that eventually made its way to the back of the main compound. Our group switched back to the main channel.
“Here they come,” Shooter said. “They’re drivin’ like they’re gonna shoot first and ask questions later.”
“No kill shots!” Sting barked out as he snagged his own rifle. “I want every single motherfucker in those cages alive!”
The shooting started before the SUVs had fully stopped. The men inside were out and shooting at anything they saw or thought might hide a potential target. The Iron Tzars stood their ground, aiming at legs and feet when men exited the vehicles. The cages themselves had the tires shot out to prevent them from leaving. Windows shattered, and some of the intruders climbed back inside the relative safety of the trucks while others riddled the clubhouse with bullets.
Sting had flipped over the heavy oak table in the center of the room where Winter and Serelda were and crouched behind it until the women were settled. Neither sister looked scared -- rather, they both looked furious. Like they were about to kill a motherfucker.
I fired several times out of the window toward two sets of feet on the ground behind the doors of the SUV. Hit one, and the guy screamed before climbing back into the truck. When I glanced back at my girl, Serelda snagged the gun from Sting’s hip as he darted from the table to the window on the other side of the main door.
“My woman snagged your sidearm,” I yelled to him over the sporadic gunfire.
“Yeah. Felt it. She good?”
“Seems to be.” I found Roman farther down the length of the room, his rifle on the window ledge as he fired off two rounds. Another man yelped, this one going down clutching his shoulder. “Roman! Your girl need a weapon?”
He shook his head. “Not if you want any of these fuckers alive. She’ll kill anything she shoots at.”
“Hmm,” Sting muttered, looking back at Serelda. My woman leveled her gaze on him as if daring him to take his gun back. “Yeah. Hadn’t thought of that.” He raised his voice. “Serelda, don’t you kill anyone.”
“No promises, Sting.”
Chapter Eight
Brick
“Come on,” Sting said, a maniacal gleam filling his eyes. “How can I expect the men to follow my instructions if my own vice president’s woman won’t?”
She sighed, throwing him a frustrated look. “Fine. But I’m gonna be there when you kill these fuckers.”