Thank goodness for technology. His radar detector caught
the other two, and the second one looked like he was going to give chase
until Bernard put his foot down. He never saw the cop after that.
He reached the outskirts of Terre Haute, and checked his
GPS. Flicker had sent him the address of the Red Devils MC clubhouse
which, fortunately for him, was on the east side of the city.
It turned out to be a fairly upscale Autobody garage. The
mechanics were wearing overalls.
Everything looked very... clean. He
hadn't had to deal with a lot of different motorcycle clubs in his time,
but this seemed fairly unusual. He stopped one of the mechanics and
asked where he could find Henry Dillon, and was directed to a small
office at the back of the garage.
It was dark in the office, though the evening sunset rays
cast enough light that he could see a man, apparently asleep, with his
feet up on the desk. He was wearing blue jeans with leather chaps and
white t shirt, and his leather jacket was hanging from a peg behind him,
with the symbol of the Red Devils, and a legend bearing his name and
the word "President." His face was covered by a newspaper, yet when
Bernards shoes squeak on the floor outside the door a sawed off shotgun
suddenly materialized in his hand, pointed straight at Barnard.
He hesitated for a moment, then said "I'm the driver that Flicker was introducing."
"Uh-huh," said the sarcastic gravelly voice, as he sat up.
His face was haggard and his hair short and grey. More like a biker
should look. "And just how do I know that?"
Bernard tried not to look directly at him, as he said what
Flicker told him to say. "He said I should tell you, you look like a
twat."
Henry pushed back from the desk and stood up quickly,
pointing his double barrelled shotgun directly into Bernards face and
pulling back each of the hammers. "What did you just call me?"
Bernard remained silent and took a half step back, as Henry
walked around the desk. "You had better gahdamn answer me right the
fuck now. What. The fuck. Did. You. Call me?"
"Actually it was Flicker wh-"
"I DO NOT GIVE A MIGHTY FLYING FUCK WHO SAID IT FIRST," he
shouted. In a far calmer voice you repeated, "What. The fuck. Did you just
call me again sunshine?" His eyes we're looking crazy, and wide.
Bernard sighed deeply, and grimmaced. Then he in enunciated
did clearly, and said, "Twat." He closed eyes and breathed hard for a
moment.
Henry just stood there for a moment staring then started
sputtering between his lips, a loud and genuine laugh. "Oh you are good.
Most people are caving in on their hands and knees and asking for mercy before they have to say it
again." Tears of laughter were streaming down his face now. "Hey Tonio,"
he shouted past Bernard, slinging the shotgun over his shoulder. "How
long was that?"
One of the mechanics, without bothering to stop working his
vehicle said. "About 15 seconds give or take. Pretty sure that's a
record."
Henry laughed and slapped Bernard on the shoulder. "Hear that? You're gonna be a legend around here!"
Bernard smiled tentatively, but couldn't take his eyes off the loaded shotgun. Henry followed his gaze.
"Oh, don't worry about this thing, its just loaded with rubber rounds. They hurt like a bitch," he said confidentially like someone who knew, "but they dont kill you, I unless they hit you in just the wrong place. I ain't never killed nobody with one of these... yet. But that hasn't stopped me from trying." he dropped it carelessly on the desk, and motion for Bernard to follow him out the back door, picking up his leather jacket along the way. "Alright orco, lets walk and talk and you can meet the rest of the family."
*********************************Chapter 9 part 14
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