Devil's Sons M.C. (Manxman)

04.

Hunter

The sun is shining, it's a great day. I grabbed a cup of coffee from the convenience store and I had some of their banana muffins.

The room was silent with only Luke's baritone voice speaking during the mandatory meeting. "Bruiser, mamba, you guys are on weapons delivery. Capitan, Slivers, H.O.D you guys are on gram delivery Northward to Los Santos. Bobby Nitro, Jazz, you guys are on gram pickup from the Armenians, I'll handle the cash pickup."

I see the wheels turning in my best friends eyes, which is understandable weapons delivery could get messy in a second. Gangs were naturally messy, stepping in each others turf and the fight for superiority, complete bullshit if you ask me.

"Bruiser take one of the prospects with you to shadow alright?" I nod in agreement with Luke before we all disperse to our various duties of the day.

"I hate when we have to do gun runs." Mamba whines and it takes all in me to not roll my eyes at the big baby. While locked up he would whine about wanting some action, now we're back in the kill zone and he's dreading the action. Humans are never satisfied are they?

"Weren't you itching for this in the big house?" I ask with raised eyebrows, stealing a glance at my long haired friend. He has always had his hair long since I've known him from the third grade.

"I was itching for some action not to be caught up in between Yardie Boys and the Mighty Fives bullshit. You know gangs ain't my thing." Mine neither.

I open the large door that leads outside towards the lot. There the three prospects lounge around. JJ lazily laughs at the antics of the other one dancing to Michael Jackson at 9 in the morning. The king of pop would be rolling in his grave if he saw this bullshit dancing. "Cross you're with me." I yell to catch their attention.

"JJ is the highest prospect and honestly seems the smartest." Mamba comments with narrowed eyes at my choice.

"Cross has a nice ass." I shrug non committal. He rolls his eyes at my logic but doesn't comment further. I notice JJ's eyes on me but I don't bother acknowledging him nor Cross the terrible dancer. "You're driving the truck Cross, we'll ride out in front of you. Got it?"

A nervous 'got it' emerges from his lips and so we begin the journey southwards.

It has always made me laugh every time the feds thought they were closing in on capturing the Devil's Sons but they'll always come up short. Up front, my Harley leads the way, Mamba closing in behind me and then the truck containing the weapons shipment was behind us. To a normal person it was an innocent furniture company truck, which was the legal front of the club.

Stocker furniture was the legal business of the club but also the transportation method for 'illegal' shipments. The weapons were hidden in the empty space behind one or two of the chairs and stitched back in. A search would always only turn up furniture and every time they managed to slip away.

I give my guys the signal for a stopover. The drive is a little on the long side so we need to refill and I definitely need a smoke. And so we pull into the gas station.

A little while later we're back on the road to our destination.

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"This doesn't feel right, I don't like this Bruiser." I don't either. The whole place was quiet and eerie which is not really the problem. The leader of the Yardie Boys-Declan Williams has never been late to a meet ever since I've been dealing with him, that was the problem.

"I agree." But there's nothing else to do than to give it sometime which is exactly what I tell my guys. "Let's give it a minute eh."

It's barely a minute when gunshots begin to ring towards our directions. Two SUV trucks come in guns blazing like judgement day, it's quite literal as bullets begin to rain and ricochet everywhere. Black and yellow outfits catches my eyes, It's the freaking Mighty Fives. "Get down prospect!" I yell for the slow individual to duck behind the truck.

Suddenly guys begin to jump out from the shadows, shooting back at the attackers. Automatic weapons, rifles, and shotguns boom round me as the Yardie Boys shoot back at their direct rivals. How you almost get shot by the weapons you deliver baffles me.

The mighty Fives drop like fleas. I guess they didn't expect the Yardie Boys, neither did they prepare for their might nor the large numbers present. Which makes me believe the Mighty Fives were here for us and that's not good.

"I fucking hate gang wars." Mamba yells near me as he swings his knife perfectly to hit one of the Mighty Fives smack in the chest.

"Me too." The prospect whispers fearfully.

We all take out the rest of the Mighty Fives till there's none left to speak about this mishap.

"Good to see you in the sunlight VP." Declan approaches me, hands raised in a surrender as my gun is pointed at him. Till all this was explained that weapon wasn't going any lower. "If I wanted you dead my guys would have done it on the inside, don't you think?" Fair point.

"What circus entertainment just happened here Declan?" I ask seriously, disregarding his men that have their weapons pointed at me too.

"We figured they wanted to hijack this shipment so we set an ambush. Sorry you guys had to be in the middle of it." His huge build stops right in front of me. Even though I stood a few inches taller than him, my swimmer's body couldn't compare to his body builder's build. His closeness and eye contact felt suffocating but I can't back down like a little bitch so I stare him down right back.

"Tell your men to lower their weapons." I whisper. His hands go out to his men and like pets they obey their masters commands. I lower mine too in courtesy and I see mamba and the prospect lower theirs too. "You know we don't like getting caught up in you guys' shit." I remind him of our deals.

"It was the only way to get Cole to back off my turf. We apologize for the inconvenience."

Nothing left to say, I gesture to the prospect and mamba to get the goods from the truck. My eyes remain on Declan and his goons because rule number one remains 'never turn your back to a gangster.' A code to live by.

"That's the last of it." Mamba whispers to me.

"Always a pleasure doing business with the Devil's Sons." Declan extends his hands for a handshake and I return it, quite firmly I might add.

I move closer to him, our hands still joined but close enough so his minions don't hear what I'm about to say. "The Mighty Fives knew you were getting a shipment today, and they knew the meet place, you got a mole brother." It doesn't take much to see that. The only people that know about the meet were the club and the Yardie Boys. This is our source of income so no member of the club would jeopardize that, therefore the mole was from the Yardie Boys. "I don't want my guys getting involved in gang shit, so handle your business Declan." My tone holds seriousness in it to show that this circus was not appreciated at all. "P.S. You owe me for my motorcycle." Her right mirror was shattered to pieces.

"I'll keep that in mind."

The Yardie boys get into their trucks as do we climb onto our motorcycles and the prospect gets into the truck. Not until I'm settled on my bike and the adrenaline has worn off, do I notice my soaked shirt especially the sleeve area. I was bleeding pretty heavily, not from gunshot but shards of glass as a result of the shootout were stuck in my skin. I could also feel the cuts and bruises on my face, but it's nothing I can't handle.

"We could stop at a convenience store and I'll fix you up real good." Mamba gestures to my wounds concern etched on his face.

"Nah I can manage till we get back."

With that the journey back to Stocker begins, away from all this mess and utter bullshit.