Duke was waiting outside the bike shop as Aaron Drake pulled into the parking lot with a car full of law enforcement brass. He’d let Aaron know their options — the lounge area of the bike shop, next door in the bar, or across the street in the clubhouse. He’d left the decision to Aaron.
After introductions, Aaron said, “As much as I’d like a beer and some wings next door, I think our conversation might be better suited to the clubhouse.”
Duke nodded. “Most of the guys we wanna talk to are already there, so that works. Let me tell the Sprite to text the others real quick, and we’ll walk across.”
Duke saw Aaron’s mouth twitch. Violet happened to be an actual Sprite, so the nickname fit. She’d had a tough start in life and the men were very protective of her. If the move to Chattanooga looked like it’d go smooth, she’d be making the change with them because it would do her good to get away from bad memories in Atlanta.
Duke looked around the clubhouse as he led the group in, once again seeing it as a stranger might. It took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust after the bright sunlight, but when they did, the paneled walls, hardwood floor, and multiple sofas came into focus. They’d bought a nice old wooden bar from a downtown restaurant before it was demolished, and it looked great. However, he walked them to one of the larger tables, where some Chattanooga maps were already spread out. The men sitting at the bar joined them, and Duke made introductions.
“This is Bud, our president. Next to him are Tiny, Dozer, and Bash. Dawg and Brain are headed in. I wanted to keep our numbers low out of respect, but the six of us, not counting Bud, will be your main contacts and I felt it important you meet us all. For the purposes of the meeting, it’ll be mostly me, Bash, and Brain talking.”
The door opened and two waitresses walked in, their arms loaded down with food. Duke explained, “I asked Sprite to send over some wings and other munchies. We have beer on draft at the bar, as well as sodas.”
The waitresses asked everyone what they wanted to drink, and brought it to them as Duke got everyone seated around the table and spread the maps so the men from Chattanooga could see.
He lifted the overlay from another table and settled it over the largest map as he said, “We’ve already been in some negotiations and talks, and the blackened out areas are where we’ve agreed to stay away. That’s all your tourist areas except a portion of MLK, and most of the UTC and Erlanger property.”
He took a drink and ate a wing as he gave the men a chance to take in the dark areas. “The red hashed areas are your highest crime sections, the purple hashes are where most of your murders have happened. A lot of intersection there.”
Sheriff Beauregard pointed to one of the green sections. “I take it green represents property you’re considering?”
“Got it in one.”
Chief Keller asked, “We here as consultants, or are you asking permission?”
Aaron opened his mouth but Duke held his hand up as he considered the question. “A little of both, but this is mostly about respect. We intend to come to Chattanooga, and we’ve done our homework, but it’s your city and if any of you have an opinion, we’d be happy to hear your reasons.”
“The business you run here, you going to repeat that in our town?”
“Right now we’re lookin’ at the bike shop and a bar across from wherever our compound ends up. Possibly another bar on the outskirts of the Hamilton Place area, but we’ve agreed to stay away from The Billiard Club, so that’s still up in the air.”
“Not talkin’ bout your legal ventures,” said Sheriff Beauregard, his already rough voice even more of a growl.
Duke had been standing, leaning over the table, and at this, he pulled out a chair and sat. “Whatever neighborhood we move into, we’ll take care of it. We don’t ask for protection money, but we do ask for respect. There are three pawn shops on our street here in Atlanta, and the owners of all three are careful to turn down hot merchandise. Some things occasionally filter in, but they make an honest effort to steer clear of it. None of them have been broken into since a few months after we moved in. Unlike a lot of MC’s, we don’t care what color you are. This means the automatic hatred between the MC’s and the gangs doesn’t have to happen. Does in some cities, not in others. We’ll do our best to make friends as we move in, but we’re gonna make some people unhappy when we claim territory, no doubt about it, and it might get worse afore it gets better. Won’t lie.”
“I take this to mean you’re gonna peddle women in our town, too.”
The door opened and two more men came in, and Duke smiled inwardly as the Chattanooga group looked Brain over with surprise. He didn’t look much like a biker — tall, thin, and lanky. He was their hacker extraordinaire, but he also threw a helluva punch.
“Sorry it took so long. I’m Brain and this is Dawg.” He pulled a chair out, flipped it around, and sat beside Duke facing the chair’s back. He leaned forward, pointed to the map, and started talking. “From a purely retail point of view, the Third Street / Orchard Knob area plays best.” He moved his hand. “Couple properties on twenty-third look promising, but there’s a wooded lot on Bailey I really like, though it would throw a wrench in logistics when it came to the bar and bike shop because they’d be a few blocks away. Good retail location could more than make up the security expense, though.”
“You’re sharing an awful lot.” Chief Keller’s face was closed off. Not pissed, not as cold as he’d been earlier, but still rather unhappy.
Duke let Brain talk. “No reason not to. Don’t wanna appear we’re invadin’ your city. Our bikes are loud, and we like to take in the needs of the neighborhood for the noise as well as our partying. Our bar will draw lots of people, and when we throw a party at the compound, same thing. We offer rides for those who drink too much at our parties, and we keep drugs out of our territory and especially our places of business. We try to be good citizens, but you gotta know we’re gonna be loud, and up at all hours of the night. One house with a family, we’ll help fund their relocation if it doesn’t work. Ten houses with families, maybe we shouldn’t move there.”
The Fort Oglethorpe chief had been mostly silent, and now he sounded skeptical. “You’d worry about disturbing families?”
Bud spoke up at this. “Family’s everything. Whether it’s the brotherhood of our MC family, or my kids and old lady, or your wife and kids. Family is everything. We find we’re causing problems for one in our neighborhood, we’ll work with the head of household to fix it. If that means us stepping up to help them relocate, we will. If it means soundproofing the kids’ rooms because the single mom likes the protection we offer by being right next door, we’ll help make it happen.”
Aaron wasn’t sure they were heading in the right direction, so he interjected. “The compound has a wooded area, and there’ll be a paintball battle tonight. Three teams. Neighborhood and MC kids on one team, MC and law enforcement on another, and a team of kick-ass women on the third. Tonight it’s kids against the men, and the winning team takes on the women.” He looked at the three men he’d brought down. “I’d like to see the three of you team up with these guys, but you gotta understand, a month ago the women won, so ya’ll need to head out back and get to know each other, the lay of the land, and talk strategy. This is serious business.”
“Who are the women?”
Bud sat back with a grin. “My old lady, her best friend, the woman who lives two houses down, a schoolteacher from the elementary down the street, and a few MC girlfriends. We got several teams of between eight and twelve, depending on who shows up. Sometimes we let the kids choose two teams, and they play to find out who the best team is, so that team can play us, but as of now it looks like we’ll just need one team for the kids.” He sighed. “One girl on the team, she’s trying to get together a girl posse to take on the boys. I like they’re learnin’ skills, but I worry for the rest of us.”