Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Six

Whiskey Jake was the president of the east-side chapter of Satans Wrath. It was not yet eight o’clock on a Sunday morning when he arrived at the mansion belonging to Damien, the national president of the club. He didn’t question the order to attend.

He stopped at the electronic gate outside of Damien’s estate and looked into the closed-circuit television camera. Seconds later, the gate swung open and he drove inside. He parked his Mercedes beside a green Jaguar that belonged to Lance Morgan, who was the president of the west-side chapter. He then walked over and pressed the intercom button beside the main entrance and stared into another camera.

“Hi, Whiskey Jake,” responded a woman’s voice. “They’re out back. Go around the side. I’ll bring you a coffee.”

Vicki was Damien’s wife. At thirty-seven, she was eighteen years younger than Damien. Whiskey Jake thought she was sexy and attractive, but even though he was a giant of a man who towered over Damien, he knew better than to even fantasize when it came to Vicki. His loyalty to the club was above all else.

Whiskey Jake lumbered around to the back of the house and met up with Damien and Lance who were sitting in a gazebo near Damien’s swimming pool. Whiskey Jake hadn’t sat down yet when Vicki brought him a coffee.

“Black,” she said matter-of-factly, “two sugars,” before returning to the house.

Without comment, Damien and Lance stood up and the three men went for a walk. Damien had his house swept for bugs on a regular basis, but even in his gazebo he would not take a chance.

“Okay,” said Damien. “Sounds like The Brotherhood are at it again. First thing I hear on the news when I wake up is about a car chase and shootout on the streets last night. The police haven’t made any arrests, but are speculating that gangs involved in a turf war are responsible.”

“Yeah, I heard it on the way over,” said Whiskey Jake.

“First, what is the plus side?” asked Damien.

Whiskey Jake said, “The drive-by shootings have taken the heat off of us. Last night will help some more. The cop’s Organized Crime Task Force will focus on the shooters in The Brotherhood. Strictly bottom-end people. Maybe they’ll make a few arrests, seize some guns, get some publicity, and try to make themselves look good. Nothing to affect our club.”

“And the negative side?” asks Damien.

“Might affect our business to a small degree,” responded Whiskey Jake.

“Could do more than that,” said Lance. “Politicians could use public fear to posture for votes, maybe strengthen gang laws under the Criminal Code and give the OCTF more funding and manpower as a result of the shootings.”

“And?” prompted Damien.

“The OCTF might find out that we are supplying The Brotherhood with meth and GHB,” continued Lance. “Once the OCTF knock off the dumb shits in The Brotherhood, they’re not going to want to disband and lose their power. They’re bound to come after us next.”

“Exactly,” said Damien. “We need to educate The Brotherhood. The harder it is for the police to nail them, the more insulation we have, and the more police resources will be spent on The Brotherhood.”

“They’re a bunch of punk kids,” said Whiskey Jake. “Hard to organize and they won’t like it if they realize we’re taking over. We know the leaders, but we don’t know who all they control or how many they got.”

“Exactly why we should make a move. Discreetly start grooming a leader to take over The Brotherhood. Someone to gain power over them and make it easier for us to control.”

“Like a mole,” said Lance.

“Exactly,” replied Damien. “Pick someone we already control. End their war before the police use it as an excuse to ask for more money and resources. Allow The Brotherhood to set up a couple of dummy bosses underneath whoever we pick as a protective layer for us.”

“Like the canary in the coal mine,” said Lance.

“Precisely. At the moment, they have too many bosses, which is another reason there is so much conflict.”

“Right now they have seven bosses,” said Whiskey Jake.

“Which are too many idiots if we are to control them properly.”

“Maybe we should cut their number down?” suggested Whiskey Jake.

“Exactly what I have in mind, but with all the heat over these shootings, the timing isn’t good for us to openly do it ourselves. It could also have the potential of backfiring on us. The Brotherhood might realize we are the bigger threat and unite against us.”

“So how do we do it?” asked Whiskey Jake.

“We need to figure out which side is winning and go with them,” replied Damien. “We need someone with more brainpower than the current bosses to move things along. How about Cocktail?”

“He’s got the smarts,” said Lance. “Both sides of The Brotherhood deal with him and know we back him. They trust him and know he would never expose himself by being a boss. Makes them trust him more. He’s also smart enough not to double-cross us.”

“Good,” replied Damien. “Tell him to pick who he thinks is going to be the winning side, then offer to help them out. Set the losers up to be taken out all at once. Professionally. No more idiotic drive-by-shooting shit.”

“You got it,” said Whiskey Jake.

“In the meantime, except for Cocktail and his action, tell all our guys to stay clear of The Brotherhood.”

“After last night, the heat will be all over them,” agreed Lance.

“Plus, the dumb shits will probably retaliate immediately instead of waiting,” said Damien. “Give everything a few days. Once the air clears a little, tell Cocktail to meet the bosses and provide us with an assessment. Make sure our prospects are around to ensure secrecy and security with Cocktail. If there is any doubt, abort. I don’t want the police to ever connect him with us or The Brotherhood.”

“So once a stronger side emerges, we’ll eliminate the weaker side,” said Whiskey Jake.

“Yes, but not us personally,” replied Damien. “Get them to do it. We’ll give Cocktail some … professional advice that he can pass along. Get the losers in one spot. Take care of them all at once and make sure their bodies never surface.”

“He could use a pretext that we have ordered a truce meeting for them to straighten things out,” suggested Lance.

“That would work,” replied Damien. “Anything to get them all together in a place without witnesses. Won’t be as much heat if they disappear. Especially if their money disappears at the same time.”

“I think they’re smart enough not to use banks,” said Lance.

Damien nodded and said, “But I doubt they are sophisticated enough to launder or use offshore accounts. Tell Cocktail to get the losers to give up their cash before they dispose of them.”

“Torture the fuckers first,” said Whiskey Jake, as if he was going over his own mental checklist.

“Cocktail can split it amongst himself and the winning side,” continued Damien.

“If we take out three or four of their bosses,” said Lance, “with the number of punks out there and a lack of leadership, there could be a lot of retaliation on an undisciplined level.”

“If shit really goes wrong, we’ll claim Cocktail was acting on his own,” said Damien. “If it goes well, the winning side should feel indebted. As far as retaliation goes, without their leaders the kids will fold pretty fast. For a brief time it might draw a lot of police scrutiny, but all we have to do is wait it out and make sure we don’t get caught in the middle.”

* * *

Satans Wrath would not have to wait long to see who the weaker side was. Jack would be placed firmly on that weaker side … and targeted for assassination.