Page 72 of Amy's Santa

Drummer nods. “And that’s why you’ve got it covered by assembling our own fuckin’ army.” He stands. “Go get some rest, Prez. Leave it to Hound now. Peg’s lending him a hand. You’ve got the two best fuckin’ sergeant-at-arms in the business, so you go rest sound. Tomorrow, the other chapters will arrive and we’ll go into defence mode with the plans that we can recite in our sleep. Day after you’re marrying your ol’ lady. All you got to do is dress up and say your vows, leave everything else to us. I’m not going to let you down, Wiz. I know I don’t have rank anymore, but if something goes down while you’re otherwise engaged, I’ll get it handled.” He gives me a sharp look. “Not stepping on your toes, Prez. Just lending a hand.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Wizard

The next day, I find I have a lot to be grateful to Drummer for. Visiting Prezes, VPs, officers and the members they bring along start to arrive from late morning onwards, and they all want a part of me. Those helping with security peel off with Hound, Peg and the other sergeant-at-arms, while those here just for the wedding want to socialise. Deciding I can’t be in two places at once, I find I’m handing keeping the compound safe into the capable hands of Drummer, and he slips out of retirement and into his old role seamlessly.

Everyone defers to him out of respect for his previous rank, and when he says jump they still ask how high.

Amy’s proving herself as a great old lady, though she’s run ragged splitting her time between greeting newcomers, catching up with old friends, and making sure there are sufficient places for people to sleep.

Officers, we’re making sure we’ve got beds for, members will be sleeping on cots or floors. Somehow, Sam and Amy have come up with a plan to house everyone, and so far the arrangements haven’t caused complaints.

By early evening, everyone who’s coming in has arrived, and the dinner, catered for by Martha, has been hijacked by being laughingly referred to as the rehearsal dinner. Lady cracks us up by appearing in the clubhouse wearing a black robe and Satanic mask. He makes Hawk, myself, Olivia, and Amy stand up and approach him, and takes us through all sorts of Satanic rights he says we’ll be doing tomorrow.

At one point, the clubhouse fills with green smoke as he throws some concoction into a small fire in a cauldron. The coughing eventually dies down after the door and all the windows have been opened.

Then he and Joker do some sort of dance involving waving rubber chickens around, slapping each other with them. I notice Maya with her head in her hands, but her shoulders are shaking.

“Hey, Lady. Where’s the fuckin’ taking place? In here, or..?” shouts Marvel.

“I’m putting fifty on the prez!” yells someone, I think it’s Shooter.

I preen for a moment, glad there’s one person who’s got faith in me, before coming to my senses fast. “There’s going to be no fuckin!” I yell out.

“What’s this about fuckin’?” I turn to greet Hellfire. He’s still a striking figure for a man of his advanced years, his wife too, though she seems a lot shorter than I remember.

“Yeah,” Amy tugs my arm and repeats, “What’s all this about fuckin’?”

Olivia’s by her side and glaring, as Hawk replies, “Believe me, you don’t want to know.”

“Prez? VP? Got a minute?”

Mouse is waving from across the room. I waste no time going to him, Hawk right there beside me.

Mouse indicates his office. Once inside, he fast lays out what he’s picked up. While he talks, my hands clench. When he’s finished, I stand, kick over a chair, and swear loudly. “That’s it. The wedding is off.”

“We can’t just send everyone home,” Hawk says reasonably. He indicates the stash on Mouse’s desk, and, at my brother-in-law’s nod, unusually for the VP, starts to roll a joint. A sign his voice might be calm, but he’s just as worried as me. “Think Prez. If they’re already assembling, then anyone riding could be picked off on the road.”

Yeah. He’s right. “Best they all stay here. But no wedding. I want all eyes focused on where a threat might come from.”

“Know you’re worried, Wiz, but all I’ve heard is people grouping together. Not even a mention of Archangel.”

“But white supremacists, yeah?” At Mouse’s nod of confirmation, I carry on with my thoughts. “Timing’s too coincidental to ignore, and it’s happening in Arizona?”

“Tomorrow,” Mouse affirms.

I bow my head, then indicate Hawk. “Thoughts, VP?”

He rubs the side of his nose, then his lips press together. Finally he speaks, “We get Prezes, VPs and SAAs briefed tonight, they can start spreading the word. No excess drinking tonight or tomorrow, everyone stays sober, or those that haven’t gone past that point yet. Everyone to be on their guard.”

“I’ve already gotten the scanners working and the exclusion range for drones is in place. It’s impossible to fly something in.”

“We’ve got our own up?”

Mouse points to the screens. “Monitoring them now. Got Nathan and Butcher with their eyes glued to these and the other cameras in the control room. With the sensors and laser beams, and info back from the drones, nothing should be able to get close without us knowing.” Thank fuck we’ve modernised our security over the years.

Hawk takes over again. “We’ll get married as planned. Have the fuckin’ reception, but do it in shifts so we’ve got as many men as possible armed and ready to take on whatever we might have coming for us.”

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