Declan

by Ava Manello

  We spend a few minutes talking about mutual acquaintances and the state of the economy before Chris brings us back on track.

  “What the hell have you landed yourself in the middle of Declan? This is some serious shit.”

  “I was hoping you could tell me.” I laugh, but there’s not much humour in it. It’s more to try and defuse the tension that is building in the room.

  “How did you end up in Severed anyway? Last I heard you lived in Perth?” I fill Chris in on my road trip with Cam and my impulsive decision to buy the pub.

  “I loved it because it seemed such a peaceful place.” I say ruefully.

  “You landed in the middle of a disaster zone.” Chris is serious now. “From what I can gather this is a new gang that’s trying to establish a name for themselves on the drug scene. They’re well financed, well armed and they’re starting out in the smaller towns and looking to build up the trade until they’re in a strong enough position to take on the big guys in Melbourne.”

  “Where’s the money coming from?” I want to know who’s backing this shit.

  “They’re pretty much self financed through a protection racket, but I think they may have recently got some additional funding and firepower from one of the South American dealers.”

  That’s not good news. If the South Americans are involved then it’s going to get dirty, violent and deadly that’s for sure.

  “Shit. Why couldn’t I have bought a pub in a quiet little town?” I shrug.

  “Because trouble follows you old man.” Chris smiles and passes over a file. “What’s in here can’t leave this office, I’m not even supposed to be showing you it.”

  I scan the contents of the file. There are photos of the main gang members in there along with their criminal histories. They’ve all progressed from petty street crime to harder stuff, most of them have done time, but not as much as they should have which tells me that they’ve got a good lawyer on their side.

  “They’ve not done much time between them have they?” I show Chris the sheet showing time served.

  “No. That tells me they’re unlikely to do much time even if we catch them red handed. Someone somewhere is getting paid too much money to keep them out of jail.” Chris shrugs his shoulders in defeat.

  We’ve been here before. This is the sort of situation we’re used to going in and dealing with, covertly. We’ve seen some shit in our time, and not of our successful missions have been acknowledged, as we shouldn’t have been there in the first place.

  “We’re going to have to deal with this ourselves, aren’t we?” I look over the information in front of me, mentally calculating the manpower and resources that I’m going to need, and working out how many favours I can call in to accomplish it.

  “I haven’t got the manpower to spare right now.” Chris apologises. “But I have got the firepower. I’ll happily lend you that.”

  We need to know more information before we can come up with a strategy, the most important being the location. We also need to work out how far up the chain we need to go to ensure that this problem doesn’t come back to Severed.

  We discuss several scenarios, but until we have that last bit of Intel it’s all theory and speculation.

  It’s the early hours of the morning before we put the file away back in Chris’s safe. I’m not allowed to take copies of anything that I’ve seen so we’ve made sure I’ve memorised the important facts and faces.

  Chris insists that I go back to his place and crash in his spare room. Crash seems to be an appropriate word, as no sooner has my head hit the pillow than I’m asleep.

  Sleep isn’t my friend this evening though. I’ve barely slept a few hours when Chris is shaking me awake.

  “Fucking hell, Declan.” He looks white. “That was some fucking nightmare.” Chris tells me he heard my screams from the other side of his apartment. He also shows me the marks on his neck where I tried to strangle him when he came to wake me.

  Shit. I can’t do this. I realise that I can’t sleep with Holly again in case I hurt her. The two nights I’ve been with her have been nightmare free, as has most of my time in Severed. It’s not a risk I dare take though. I can’t hurt this girl, she’s becoming too important to me.

  How the hell am I going to explain that to her?

  Chris leaves the door into the hallway open so he can hear me if I cry out again. He doesn’t need to. After the nightmare I just woke from I can’t get back to sleep. I can’t remember what it was about, just the feeling of terror followed by knowing I had to kill the person in front of me. It was them or me; life or death.

  I’m a fucking ex special military soldier and I’m scared of sleep. Instead I lay awake and stare at the ceiling for the rest of the night.

  I’ve got to get over this shit. War is about to descend on Severed and right now it looks like I’m the only hope they have.

  We’re fucked.

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Declan

  We head back into the city to Chris’s office; on the way he takes a detour to a warehouse that his company owns. When we get past the security at the gate and enter the building I let out a long breath. This place is like a military supermarket.

  I look around at the crates of firepower, ammunition, tactical equipment and vehicles. It’s like the set of some high action movie for fucks sake.

  “What the fuck?” My jaw is literally hanging open; even in the military I never saw equipment of this quality in these quantities.

  “What can I say?” Chris grins widely. “There’s a lot more money in the private sector.”

  I look in a crate and pick up what I know to be the newest night vision goggles on the market. “But how?” I turn them over in my hand. “I didn’t think these babies were even available yet?”

  “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” Chris smirks. He’s always loved that cheesy line. “Seriously, I have excellent contacts and clients who expect the best of everything.” His voice resonates pride when he talks.

  “Chris?” I don’t want to ask the question, but I need to know the answer now before I get in too deeply. “Just who do you work for?”

  Chris could be affronted by my question; thankfully he’s not. “You know I can’t tell you that, Declan. What I can tell you is that I don’t work for the bad guys. Right now, that’s all I can say. I’m not helping you fight this little drug war of yours to benefit any of my clients. I need you to trust me on this.”

  I look Chris in the eyes and see the truth behind them. I let out a huge sigh of relief.

  I’m still blown away by the stuff that Chris has in this warehouse. It’s like a soldiers dream.

  “Why did you bring me here?” I look around me, wishing I’d had some of this equipment back in Afghanistan.

  “Because if you’re going to take these guys on, you need to be prepared. I figure if you know what equipment I’ve got access to then you can write me a shopping list.” Chris gestures at the crates surrounding us.

  “I can’t afford this stuff, Chris. I sank everything into the pub. Best I can manage is probably some combat rifles with the change I’ve got left in the bank.”

  “I don’t want your money, Declan. I owe you. Consider this my way of repaying the debt.” I blink in confusion, unsure how Chris thinks he owes me.

  He sees my uncertainty and reminds me of a mission we were on together several years ago. I’d forgotten about it. Chris got caught behind enemy lines and I’d been the one they sent in to retrieve him. He sees it as saving his life from some bad ass motherfuckers; I just see it as another day on the job, nothing special.

  “But…” I start.

  “Shit, but nothing, Declan. Man, you saved my life that day. I consider it a debt, so do me a favour and let me repay you.” He looks so earnest.

  “Well, it would be rude not to I guess.” I laugh.

  “Great, have a look round then we’ll head back to the office and write you up a shopping list.” Chris ges
tures around the large warehouse.

  I’m grinning wildly as I head off to inspect the contents of the nearest crates. I feel like a kid on Christmas morning!

  Chapter Thirty

  Declan

  I was like a kid in a candy shop rummaging around Chris’s warehouse. I kept picking things up and just touching them to make sure they were real. Deadliest candy shop I’ve ever seen that’s for sure.

  One thing is clear, Chris has some considerable contacts. I don’t know who he’s working for, and perhaps I’m better off not knowing. I’m just glad to have him on side.

  Chris’s secretary brings us more freshly brewed coffee which is a good thing as my eyes are heavy from lack of sleep.

  “You’re lucky you’re in Victoria and not New South Wales.” Chris tells me as he delves into the plate of cookies that his secretary left on the desk between us.

  “Why?” I ask around a mouthful of half eaten biscuit.

  “Have you not heard of these new VLAD laws?” Chris looks surprised. “I thought you’d have been more on the ball.”

  “VLAD? What’s that, I thought it was another name for Dracula.” I laugh.

  “I wish it was that funny. It stands for ‘Vicious Lawless Association Disestablishment Act’. Basically they’re cracking down on bikies. You need to be careful. If you’re even seen talking to two or more patched bikers you can end up in prison.”

  I do a double take. I’ve never heard of the law, but it sounds extreme. “You what?”

  The Government is trying to crack down on these outlaw bikie gangs. They’re convinced that they’re some sort of criminal kingpins and they’re using these anti terrorism laws to stop them. Hell, there’s a part of New South Wales where the Hell’s Angels can’t even visit their own clubhouse without being arrested.

  “So I can be arrested for just talking to a couple of bikers?” I ask in disbelief.

  “Yep, if one of them has a criminal record, even if you’re unaware of it, then you can be charged with conspiracy to commit an offence.”

  “Fuck!” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. The more Chris tells me the more outrageous it sounds.

  “What the hell happened to democracy and being innocent until proven guilty?” I ask.

  “Welcome to Australia.” Chris laughs, but it’s not a humorous, it’s sarcastic.

  “Just be careful. You need to keep an eye on this. From what you’ve told me a large part of your pub customers are involved with the MC in one way or another. If these laws become more extreme in Victoria, and I’m sure they will, then this is going to affect your business. “

  “But these guys aren’t criminals.” I protest. “They’re just a bunch of guys who love the lifestyle and live together. Shit, even their businesses are all legit.” I protest.

  “It won’t make any difference.” Chris sighs. “Anyway, let’s not worry about what might happen and concentrate on what we need to do to get you out of this present mess.” He brings the conversation back to the drug problem.

  “I’ve got some contacts in South America.” I raise my eyebrows when he says this. “Declan, I told you. I don’t work for the drug cartels, but I do have contacts in them. You know that knowledge is currency in this business. Anyway, they’ve confirmed that the guys bothering you in Severed and new to the game. If we stamp down hard on them now no ones going to be shedding any tears over them.”

  “What do you suggest?” This is definitely in our favour. The last thing we needed was to find out the dealers had connections with some of the Mexican cartels. That’s a war we definitely aren’t equipped to win.

  I’ve had some surveillance on the leaders, we’re just waiting for them to lead us to where they’re storing the drugs and then we can strike.” Chris passes over some more photos.

  The scary thing is that these so-called drug barons look just like you or me. You could pass them in the street and never know them for the death mongers’ that they are.

  Drugs are slow killers. They get you hooked with a few pills that make you happy, give you a temporary high, then they introduce you to the stronger stuff. The stuff you’d sell your soul for or that you’d steal from your mother for. Drugs don’t just destroy the life of the addict; it’s much more far reaching than that. They destroy the lives of the people who love you, the people you steal from to fund your addiction, and the people you introduce to them.

  “What do you mean we?” I don’t miss the way Chris phrased his last comment. “I didn’t think you could spare any manpower?”

  “I miss being out in the field sometimes.” Chris looks at me. “Every so often I feel the need to get my hands dirty. I figure now is as good a time as any to go out and freshen up on my skills.” Chris is grinning.

  “Realistically, how many do you think we’ll need? We don’t know the size of the storage unit yet do we?” I question.

  We sit and discuss the logistics of several theoretical situations. Between us we think we can get away with five trained personnel, calling on the MC for some additional firepower if needed.

  “This MC worries me.” Chris voices his concern. “They’re an unknown variable. I don’t like working with unknowns. They’re dangerous.”

  “These guys have been through some serious shit this past few months. They can handle themselves. The guy I’ve been talking to, Angel, seems pretty calm headed, not one to rush into anything. They’ve got a personal stake in this, we either include them in the plan or keep a tight rein on them, or they’ll go renegade and handle it themselves. I’d rather we worked together than at opposites.”

  Chris mulls the situation over. With Chris on our side we’ll need three more trained personnel and I know just the men to call on. I’m just hoping they’ll be able to come through for me. They’ve left the military behind and are getting on with civilian lives now.

  Chris hands me the phone. “Call Cam. Tell him what’s happening and ask him to speak to the guys. Don’t worry about the logistics, I’ll get them here.”

  I pick up the phone, hesitating to dial. I know we promised to always be there for each other after Max died, but what if they won’t or can’t.

  There’s only one way to find out. I tap out Cam’s number and listen to it ringing at the other end.

  “Hey, Cam.” I say when he picks up. “I’ve got myself into a bit of a pickle and could use your help.”

  “What the fuck have you done now, Declan?” He laughs down the line at me.

  “You’d better sit down mate, it’s going to be a long story.”

  Chapter Thirty One

  Holly

  The funeral was awful. It was always going to be, but it was made worse by some of the guys from Scalp’s own club coming to blows at the graveside.

  What the fuck is it with bikers? They always have to be so alpha male and fight for everything. Don’t get me wrong I love the guys at Severed, but sometimes this whole lifestyle makes me feel suffocated.

  Declan didn’t make it back in time and I haven’t heard from him. I sent him a text earlier asking if he was okay, but he hasn’t replied.

  I feel lost, like I’m trapped between two worlds, two lifestyles and I have to choose. I don’t want to choose. Surely there’s some hybrid option, some way to live in both, but I can’t see it.

  The club won’t accept me seeing someone from the outside, and I can’t see anyone from the outside understanding club dynamics. I’m not sure Declan would understand the pull of the club. It’s more than family; I have a loyalty to the club.

  I have a love/hate relationship with Severed. Whilst they are my family and I do feel they’re looking out for me, I can’t help blaming them for my losing Justice and Danni. If it hadn’t been for the club none of that shit would have happened and my brother and best friend wouldn’t be dead.

  There are days when I don’t know whether to run as far away from here as I can, and days like today where I can’t imagine being anywhere else.

  I’m not the only one that st
ood at that graveside today and remembered burying Justice and Danni. I could see it in so many faces. These guys have been to too many funerals lately. Cowboy held me close when it got too much for me. Lucy has been sitting with me, trying to get me to tell wild tales of childhood adventures with Justice. I know what they’re doing; it’s good to remember the good times, especially on a day like this.

  I don’t want it to be Lucy sitting here beside me though. I want Declan. I’m being childish and selfish, but I can’t help it. I check my phone again. Still nothing.

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Declan

  The journey back to Severed was a lot more comfortable than the outward one. By the time we’d finished brainstorming in Chris’s office it was past midnight. The tired bags under my eyes weren’t the only give away; my whole body was sagging from exhaustion.

  Chris informed me in no uncertain terms that he was sending me back with a driver. I’d refused another night in his spare room, needing to be back in Severed. My bike was securely strapped into the back of the large truck that was also packed ceiling high with supplies. War was definitely coming to Severed judging by the arsenal Chris was sending me home with.

  Chris was staying behind to make the arrangements for Cam and the guys to join us. He’d follow on with them when they arrived in Melbourne.

  There’d been no hesitation from any of the guys at coming out to support me. I don’t know why I’d been so worried. They’d always had my back out on the battlefield and to them this was no different.

  The relief when Cam had rung back to say they were all on board was indescribable.

  We arrived back in Severed at dawn. The town was deserted and I was grateful for that as I showed Chris’s driver where to unpack the supplies. I locked the garage door, pocketing the key before getting on the bike and heading over to see the MC.

  I know I should probably have slept first. I looked like the walking dead at best, but I’d dozed on and off on the journey back. Chris’s driver accepted the offer of one of the guest rooms out back and I left him to sleep the journey off.