Page 78 of Benga's Rise
I’m glad we have tracking. “The Sheriff’s station. We’re riding there, so we’ll get ourselves back.”
He’s laughing. Again. “Roger, VP. Hit your mic on for us. I’m going to get a headset.” He’s telling someone they need a headset. I hang up and hit my mic on.
“It’s good to have a plan. Benjamin Franklin said,By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail.I think he’s right. Jerry hasn’t called for training, you might have offended him.”
“You’re the one that said self-deprecating. I just wanted them to cover him better. He’s their Sheriff. That’s like President and they didn’t cover him worth a shit.”
We walk into the vehicle maintenance side of the building. “Horn!”
“Yeah, Boss. At the back.”
Why are there so many bikes in here? These aren’t ours. We weave through, but I’m distracted with all the bikes.
“Nice, you even put handles that will fit the cuffs. I like it.” Cort sounds impressed.
I turn from the line of bikes that are from Texas and Colorado. There’s a giant plate on the floor with two handles on the edge.
“What the fuck is it?” It looks like a pounded out piece of metal with a higher edge on it. It’s pretty smooth, he did a good job with it.
“He said a dish. That’s a dish.”
I just nod.“I don’t think he meant a dinner plate. He used a satellite dish, it held the dick so he didn’t slide off.”
His shoulders drop and he looks at the big dinner plate on the floor. “He just said dish.”
“No, this is perfect for the imagery. Dick in a dish fits better with it like this. And we can reuse it.” Jesus. “Since it’s flat, I need two more handles for his feet.”
Horn smiles, happy that Cort is. “I’ll put them on right now. Ten minutes and you can take it away. It’s got rollers on the bottom like our creepers so it will go in any direction.”
Cort asks him questions and I go to the office, away from heavy-duty roller talk. The fucking dish will be all over the road. I shake my head. He made a fucking dinner plate. “Scraps, what’s with all the bikes?”
The Samoan is huge, “Cleanup keeps bringing them. I’m running out of room for our own shit. Fucking Horn is checking them out and logging them. He’s got parts needed in case Brothers buy them or something. It’s been months, VP. They just keep bringing them.”
I put my hand up and call Banks. “Did Cort ask you to get a dealership here or close?”
“Yeah, VP, when we first got here, then he said to hold off. I still have the money for it, but I’m waiting on a go from him.”
“I’m looking at close to sixty bikes.Inour building. Cleanup keeps bringing them here. You have a shitload going to a virtual junkyard there. Roger and the garage need room. Use the money and build something that takes all that into consideration. Then we’re not building bikes in the city and freighting them here.”
“Roger, VP. Should I check with him first?”
“Did you miss the meeting this morning? He’s still running however many businesses, the Club and Club businesses, plus he took the Council Head seat.” I walk toward Cort.“He’s welding cuff handles on a huge dinner plate he calls a dish that Horn built out of steel. You want me to stop him to ask?”
“No fucking way. If he gets pissed, he’ll put me on the dish. I’ll get a dealership here, but you better fucking tell him.”
“When he’s done welding, I will.”I go back to Scraps.
“When the fuck did he learn how to weld?” Banks isn’t done.
“We all did. Our first bikes were from the junkyard. We had to learn how to build them so we could fix it if we broke down. When you get the space, we need to get these bikes out of the building. Horn has them ready to be sold. Even parts needed for them.”
“Fucking Brothers. I’ll get cleanup moving the bikes. Make sure Pres knows. I’m going to be pissed if he puts me in that dish.”
I hang up laughing. “Banks will have cleanup moving the bikes and he’ll build a dealership here so we aren’t storing shit.”
“Thanks, VP. I swear Horn gets crazy with this shit. He’saccessingevery fucking bike. Rex and his fucking words.” He turns away weaving through bikes.
“Raid!”
