The Psycho (The Soldiers of Anarchy 1)

Chapter Thirty-Six

Adam

It was the day of reckoning, for Karl Cheslin, anyway. We’d sent confirmation to the father of the victim that today would be the day that the motherfucker who destroyed his little girl’s life would breathe his last breath. We told him we’d send the evidence as soon as it was done and thanked him for his service in bringing the scum to our attention. Taking out evil like him was what we did, it was what we lived for, and as we stood together doing our final checks, the surge of energy and adrenaline felt unreal.

Soldiers standing shoulder to shoulder.

Warriors for the silent victims.

The voice that would never be silenced.

All of us wore dark clothing, black hoodies pulled up, and bandanas over our noses and mouths. We each carried a knife that we kept hidden, but the tools of our trade were waiting for us at the warehouse. When we got there, with our target secured in place in the bolted chair, we’d each pick our weapon of choice. Five soldiers, five instruments of torture, and five methods of using them to drive him to insanity before he finally met his maker.

“Colton and Devon, I want you to ride up front in the van with me,” I stated. “Tyler and Will, do you think you can manage the main cab, wait in there and then watch him once we get him inside? There’s a set of handcuffs attached to a railing on the wall that you can use to hold him, but when we’re driving, he’s gonna try every fucking trick in the book to make noise and escape. We need you to be on him. Keep him quiet. Gag him…”

“Or cut his fucking tongue out if you have to,” Colton added without a hint of humour to his voice.

“We can do that.” Tyler nodded, looking to Will for agreement.

“Just don’t drive like a fucking lunatic or we’ll be all over the bloody cab too,” Will moaned, and then, after Tyler glared at him, he added, “But it’s fine. We’ll watch him. That fucker won’t be moving an inch or making a fucking sound once we’ve finished with him.”

“Save some for the rest of us,” Devon said as he walked past us and out onto the yard at the back of the asylum, where the side opening van was sat waiting for us.

“It’s showtime,” Colton sang. And the rest of us filed out, taking our places in the van.

* * *

An hour later, we were parked up a fair distance from the prison, staring at the gate that we knew the prisoners were released from. There was a mesh window that Tyler and Will could see through from the back, and we all sat, waiting and watching.

I was in the driving seat, Devon in the middle, and Colton was on the end, and the sparks of energy coming from all of us was palpable. We didn’t speak. We were all too focused on psyching ourselves up for the main event. But when the gate opened and we saw him stroll out for the first time, clutching his plastic bag and glancing up and down the road with a cocky expression on his face, we all sat forward.

Every nerve in our bodies ignited, firing us up.

Every muscle tensed in preparation.

We were ready.

This was it.

He sauntered over to a black Range Rover parked on the opposite side of the street and opened the passenger door, throwing his bag onto the backseat before climbing in himself. We didn’t see the other occupants of the car. It’d been parked up as long as we had and no one had gotten out, but we didn’t care. We had our eyes on him and that was enough for us. Blue jeans, a black T-shirt; he looked like he’d blend into the crowd, but to us, he stuck out like a sore thumb. Now it was time to put our plan into action. First stage, follow the mark to his destination.

The Range Rover pulled out into the road, which was relatively quiet, and we did the same, keeping our distance so as not to alert him to our presence. As he drove through the streets of Sandland and back into Brinton, we managed to maintain a successful tail on him. The traffic lights were on our side and the roads were busy enough to conceal us, but not enough to stop him being hunted down.

After about twenty minutes, they pulled into the carpark of the Red Lion in Brinton Manor, and we saw Karl and another guy get out of the car, joking and laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world as they headed straight towards the pub.

“I think that’s one of his brothers,” Devon remarked, and we all stayed quiet, watching them both disappear through the door into the bar.

“Stage one complete,” I informed them. “We have our target cornered. Now for stage two, we need to know what the fuck is going on in there.”

I took my phone out and started to call Gaz. He was on standby, ready to be where we needed him to be, and right now, it was inside The Red Lion, finding out exactly what was going on, who was there, and helping us get to our target.

“Red Lion, Cedar Road,” I said as soon as he picked up the call. “I want numbers, details, get in there and let me know exactly what we’re up against.”

Gaz started to try and make small talk, but I shut the call down. I wasn’t in the mood, and I needed to stay focused.

Ten minutes later, Gaz and few of his friends pulled up a few cars down from us, and when he got out, the fucking idiot waved at us.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Colton hissed through his teeth as he sunk low into his seat and pulled his hood down further over his face to hide himself. “That guy is a complete knob head. I don’t know why we still use him.”

“He might be a knob head, but he’s loyal,” Devon bit back. “Anyway, there aren’t any windows in the pub overlooking this part of the carpark. No one inside would’ve seen.”

“How do you know he’s inside and not around the back having a fag?” Colton spat back.

I blocked out their bickering, the noise in my head was loud enough, I didn’t need them adding to it, but I started the engine up and slowly pulled the van around to the back of the pub, where there was a small smoking area outside. There was no one there right now, which was perfect for us. I’d waited to check that Gaz had arrived and had gone into the bar, and now, it was time to wait in our target zone, hidden from the road.

I turned to give Tyler and Will the nod, and they both got out of the van and then went over to the CCTV cameras pointed at the smoking areas. Raising the baseball bats we’d kept in the back of the van, they smashed them until they were useless and hanging off the wall. We weren’t taking any chances with this one. Strike, grab, and run. Leave no trace behind. That was the plan.

I fired a text off to Gaz to let him know we were in position and ready, and he replied pretty quickly.

Gaz: He’s here with a group of four other guys. At the moment, they’re all standing at the bar, drinking. Nothing out of the ordinary. One went off to the toilet just now, but from the photos Will sent me, it wasn’t him. What do you need me to do? I can’t tell you much more.

I read the message to the others. We were used to waiting it out, taking our time over a target until it was just right. So, I replied to Gaz, telling him to lay low, listen, and if our guy broke off from the group, he had to let us know. There was no rush here. We were doing this properly. No room for fuckups.

A few minutes after that I got another text.

Gaz: They just ordered another round of drinks. Do you want me to go up to them? Get some info?

I ran my hand over my face in exasperation and didn’t even bother telling the others what the message said. Gaz was obviously antsy and desperate to prove himself.

Me: No. Whatever you do, do not talk to them. Don’t even look at them. Your job is to listen. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Be invisible. Don’t fuck this up, Gaz.

“Is our target on the move?” Colton leant his head around Devon to ask me.

“No, but I think Gaz might be if he doesn’t stick to the plan,” Devon replied.

He’d obviously read the text over my shoulder, but he knew better than to share its contents with the rest of them. Gaz was a loose cannon for us right now, and I needed to reel him back in without spooking the others.

Gaz: I won’t let you down.

I stared at his response and hoped that he fucking didn’t. I’d sent him in because he was an unknown. I couldn’t risk one of us going in and someone saying something or outing our identity. The soldiers might run incognito when we were on a job, but in Brinton, most people knew who we were. Well, most except for Karl Cheslin. Seems he’d missed the memo. We’d enjoy correcting that little matter very, very soon.

Time ticked on, and I could sense the others were growing impatient. Colton’s knee was bobbing up and down with nervous energy. The two in the back were huffing out their annoyance and sitting on the floor of the van with their heads hung low. Devon held it together pretty well, but if I looked closely, there were tell-tale signs that he was getting irritated. A quiet sigh, tapping his foot way more than usual, and when I looked to the side of me, I could see the tick of his jaw as he clenched his teeth together. We needed action, and now.

I lifted my phone up to make a call, and instantly, a text came through from Gaz.

Gaz: Target is on the move. He’s just told the others he’s going outside for a cigarette and one other guy said he’d join him after he’d taken a piss. This might be your window but it’s a small one. Anything you need me to do?

I typed back quickly.

Me: Try and stall the guy taking a piss. But stay inside. I’ll text when it’s safe for you to leave, and when I do text, you get out of there as fast as you can without making it look obvious. Understood?

Seconds later, I got my answer.

Gaz: Understood. I’m on it.

“Time to roll,” I called out, banging on the partition behind me to the other two in the back. “Stage two is done, now on to stage three. Let’s get that fucker in this bloody van and get out of here.”

I started the engine as they opened the side of the van, fixed their hoods and bandanas in place, and grabbed the necessary equipment. Our next manoeuvre was something we’d done so many times we didn’t need to rehearse it or check on our roles. We were like a well-oiled machine. Tyler and Will were on the front line, Colton and Devon the back-up, but only if they were needed, and I was the driver who’d bolt like a fucking maniac to get us out of there.

We watched from the inside of the van as Karl Cheslin wandered out into the smoking area, lit up a cigarette and started to tap away on a mobile phone, totally oblivious to what was going on around him. Tyler and Will walked right up to him, and before he’d even had chance to look up, Will had flung the clothe sack over his head, grabbing him into a choke hold as he started to make a grab for them. But he wasn’t that strong, and they soon had him face down on the concrete.

Will knelt on his back as he secured the cable ties to his wrists. We would be upgrading to chains later, but ties did the job for now. Tyler grabbed his ankles and did the same, and then they hauled him up, sprinting to the van as best they could with him in their arms, then threw him into the back as they got in themselves and shouted, “Go, go, go.”

I sped off just as the side door to the van closed and we were out of there.

I told Devon to text Gaz and tell him he needed to get out of the pub right this second, and he did, letting me know when Gaz replied that the coast was clear. Gaz was out, we had Cheslin, and none of the fuckers in that pub had a bloody clue what’d happened yet. The plan was going like fucking clockwork, and now that we’d gotten the hard part over with, it was all plain sailing. Now the real games could begin.