Page 36 of Gotta Dig Deep
“How do you want us to handle this?” Duane rocked his chair back on two legs, the casual movement at odds with the angry expression on his face. “We go up in force, Prez?”
“Nope, not until we know for sure. I’m sending Horse to suss things out. He’s got connections back east not tainted by the MDMC, and between that and him knowing Skyd real well, I think he’s the right choice.”
“Agreed,” Duane said, thumping his chair back to four legs. “Wanna thump anyone for intel, though? Since it’s now involving RWMC, should we loop them in?”
“Let’s get a handle on how much of a threat it is first,” Horse offered. “Yeah, there’ve been multiple contacts, and yeah, it appears to be escalating. But I’d hate to call them in before time. They’ll only muck shit up with the posturing that’s sure to be included.”
“Horse is right. We keep them in our back pocket, knowing they’re a force we can call to arms if needed.” Blackie blew a raspberry on a sigh. “I hate shit like this. Motherfuckers should just stay out of our territory and leave shit alone.”
“Not the way of the world, boss. Sorry.” Duane laughed at Horse’s fake resignation, and Oaky shook his head. Grinning, Horse continued, “I’ll head out first thing in the morning. Wait for Skyd-boy to get the rest of the info over, and maybe even catch a good night’s sleep. I don’t mind going alone, Prez, but you let me know if you change your mind on that.”
“Will do. Duane, help put a folder together, yeah?” Blackie pushed away from the table, reaching for the gavel. He knocked it against the metal plate insert in the table, delivering three sound hits. “Meeting adjourned, motherfuckers. Let’s head back to the fire and bask in the knowledge that your president is workin’ on populatin’ the next generation of FRMC.”
Laughter followed them out of the room and Horse gave Blackie a wave as he detoured towards the stairs. He’d spend the evening reading everything that would be on the secure server, because as casual as Blackie tried to appear, he knew Duane would jump on the instructions to log everything, all so Horse had what he needed. Between the three of them, they’d have a clear view of the potential threat by morning.
***
Yawning, Horse slid a mug out of the cabinet and poured a cup of coffee. He leaned a hip against the countertop and took a cautious sip as he surveyed the room. Half a dozen other members were arrayed in chairs and on stools, head down over their own mugs.
“Musta been a good party,” he observed, pitching his voice louder than necessary.
“Shut up, asshole,” Oaky muttered, shooting a dark look at Horse. “You failed to celebrate, and don’t think it wasn’t noticed. Where were you?”
“Studying for midterms.” He chuckled. “While you frat boys were getting prepared to conduct the porcelain throne conga line, I was studying.”
“Fuck you.” Duane rested his head on one arm. “I’m too old for this shit.”
“You got that one right.” Horse grabbed the carafe and made the rounds, topping off everyone’s mug. “Need you two alert and cogitatin’. Think you can do that, brothers?”
“Stop using thousand-dollar words, asshole.” Oaky took a healthy swig of the fresh coffee. “Whatcha need from us?”
“If you’re up to it, a quick session in the office to talk about my chores for the day.” Prospects were drifting in and out of the kitchen, forcing Horse to resort to nonspecific phrases. “I’d like your input.”
“If someone will make another pot of coffee so it’s ready when we’re done.” Duane pushed back from the table and lifted his mug, downing the coffee quickly. “I’ll need more joe, prospect. Get to movin’.”
“Yes, patchholder.”
Horse waited for the two men to enter the office before closing the door. He sketched a salute to Blackie’s empty chair and pulled out one to the right, leaving Duane and Oaky to pick their own seats.
“Word is the rumors are true and it’s the Monster Devils playin’ havoc out here in our space. Info says several key members havenotbeen seen around the east coast for a couple of weeks, and text messages indicate significant others are talking amongst themselves about a mass move to Texas. Stands to reason their ole ladies will have the right of it, if they’re lookin’ to uproot families.” Horse let his gaze drift between the men opposite him. “Physical descriptions don’t match the MDMC big dogs, so it’s likely not Dom or his main boys, but he’s definitely sent a squad of members to try and carve out a place to set up.” Dominick was Bane’s blood, and the source of all MDMC woes.
“Well, shit.” Duane cracked his knuckles. “Want me to ride up there with you today?”
“Nah, I’m just going to hit the IRMC clubhouse. Skyd’s expecting me, so all should be fine.”
“Shoulda, coulda, woulda—if it’s not fine, it’ll be hella too late to do anything about it.” Oaky raked a hand through his hair, flipping it over his shoulder. “I think you should have company.”
“Nope, I think you need to be here to catch my call when I find out the who and why. That way Blackie has you two at his back when he calls the Rebels. If needed, after we do those chats, I can ride out to Baker, let Bane know in person.”
“Respect, brother. This won’t be easy on him.” Duane shook his head, slinging an elbow over the back of the chair next to his. “Good idea thinkin’ of that.”
“I might as well have sponsored him, the way things shook out. Regardless, I don’t want him to get a text. That’s shitty.”
“Shitty kitty kind of bullshit the MDMC would pull. Pussies, all of ’em. Fuckin’ assholes.” Duane cracked his knuckles again. “When you leavin’?”
“Soon as we get done. You got the various data sorted last night, and I put it together into a story early this mornin’. I’m confident in my read, but another respect piece is me going to Skyd and getting his tale direct from his mouth.” Horse yawned and lifted his coffee to take another drink. “Won’t be a long ride, but I don’t know how much time I’ll spend talking. I figure we don’t have to call out and wake Blackie just yet. Give him and Peaches a chance to sleep in as much as Randi will let ’em.” He smiled. “You see his face last night? Never seen a man as proud about knocking up his ole lady.”
“He told me Peaches gave him a long lecture about loving Randi the same. Poor Blackie didn’t understand any of it, I think because he’s always viewed that little girl as his. Honestly confused, but he said he kept reassuring Peaches it will all be okay.”
