Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 145729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Razor had to go first. Reaper would draw and shoot him in the head. Two bullets to make certain, although he didn’t miss. The president would go second, even though Code and Absinthe would go for him as well. Savage would take the two sitting to either side of their president, the ones assigned to protect him, just as Code was assigned to Czar. The two were named Weed and Shaft. Their cuts had their road names as well as their offices. It was unusual for a president, enforcer, secretary and road captain to all come to a meet at once. Something big was up.
“How can I help you?” Czar asked.
There was a small silence while Hammer sized him up. Razor was clearly uncomfortable with the setup, but he kept his mouth shut. His gaze moved restlessly around the room, always looking for anything that might threaten his boss.
“I’ll get right to the point,” Hammer said. “Heard good things about your club. You’re small, but you get things done. We’ve got a situation. We’re small too. Three chapters. Good territory. We keep it as clean as possible. Don’t have trouble with the locals. Hear you’re in pretty good here as well.”
Czar shrugged but didn’t respond, his eyes steady on the Demons president’s face.
Reaper had seen him give that look a thousand times. He’d learned it in the school where hardened criminals ruled, and if you wanted to stay alive, you didn’t make mistakes, like flinching at the wrong time.
“We have a route that goes from our territory to here. Stops dead and then picks up on this side of Santa Barbara.”
Czar shook his head. “This is Diamondback territory. You want something to go through their territory, you contact them, pay the fee and they’ll take it through.”
Hammer hastily shook his head. “They swallow any pipeline, use it for their own purposes and use a club like ours as pawns. They’d want a cut of what we’re doing and that cut would be more than we could afford right now.”
“You get caught, they’ll declare war and wipe you out. They have more chapters than just about any other club in the world. They’re loyal to their brothers and out of respect we’re careful not to do anything that would step on their toes, like creating a pipeline without giving them a cut.”
Hammer and his secretary, Shaft, exchanged looks. To Reaper they seemed a little desperate.
“What exactly is the product?” Czar asked.
“Counterfeit money.”
Just the fact that Hammer told them straight up was another indication that they were desperate.
Czar leaned toward him. “I don’t like bullshit. I’m two seconds from putting a gun to your head and pulling the fucking trigger. What are you doing here? My old lady is waiting for me and I don’t like keeping her waiting. Not. Ever. So don’t waste my time.”
Instead of looking worried or even scared at Czar’s words, Hammer looked as if he was relieved. He took a deep breath and told the truth. “This is going to make my club look weak, and we’re not. We got in bed with a club that runs a gambling operation. We help launder the money. Recently they found out about the counterfeit operation we’ve been running. We keep it slow. Nothing big, feeding a few bills here and there along an eastern route we’ve got. They want to take it big-time.”
“How’d they find out about your operation?” Czar asked, always going for the most pertinent fact immediately.
“One of our prospects decided to try his hand at gambling and got in over his head. Instead of coming to the club, he traded his debt for information.” Hammer’s tone was strictly neutral.
“Where is he now?” Czar’s voice dropped an octave.
Just that tone put the room on edge. Reaper had seen him do it so many times, but each time it happened, he was always impressed.
“He didn’t survive,” Hammer said.
“Anyone else talkative in your club?” Czar asked.
“The men in this room are men I trust implicitly. The ones in my chapter, same thing. The other chapters wear our colors and I’ll fight for them and with them, but I don’t know them as well as I do my own brothers.”
That was an honest answer. No one could know every man in every chapter of a club.
“They all in on the counterfeiting?”
He nodded. “Distribution. We have the plates. They’re good plates. I’ve got a good man who knows what he’s doing. We play it safe and don’t get greedy, we can make it work, make it untraceable back to us. This other club wants to get greedy.”
“How big are they?” Czar asked.
“That’s the thing. They’re Ghosts. They call themselves Ghosts.”
Reaper stirred then, something he never did. That called attention to him and the Demon’s enforcer nearly came out of his seat. Reaper ignored him. “A word, Czar.”