Screw (Hell's Handlers MC 8)

“Bet you focused on the whores, huh?” Mav asked with a snort.

Enough of this shit. He was being serious and they needed to see it that way. “No, Mav, I fucking didn’t. But I did learn how they’re shipping weapons, and I got invited to join their operation. I know exactly how and when they’re getting their guns out of here. And I have an idea of how we can fuck with their business. Make them lose tens of thousands. Maybe if we can make this area seem like a money suck, they’ll leave without fucking killing any of us.”

The chapel fell silent as the gazes on him shifted from tolerant to respectful. Copper rubbed his beard. “Tell me.” His voice held a grudging admiration.

“They work with a shipping company called Cranston based in Knoxville. Mondays and Thursdays, they take a supply of weapons to Knoxville where they’re all divided up between a number of trucks making deliveries up and down the east coast. They’re looking for a new shipping company. Squirt said this one has been unreliable and they’re losing money.”

“He say where they get the guns?” Zach asked.

Screw shook his head. “No. But if I had to make a guess, I’d say they’re pretty well stocked right now. I’m betting that they brought a shit ton of weapons back with them while they were gone those few weeks. Now they have product to unload and need to move it.”

Jigsaw leaned forward, resting on his elbows, fully engaged. “So what’re you thinking? Intercept them on the way to Knoxville?”

“We could, but then they’d know it was us, or at least highly suspect it. I’m thinking we fuck with the trucking company. Here me out.” He shifted forward as well, tapping a finger on the table as he spoke. “Weapons get loaded onto the trucks Monday and Thursday nights. They go out Tuesday and Friday mornings. We get our asses in there after the trucks are loaded. Steal the guns, maybe some other shit too so it doesn’t look so deliberate. It’s fucking Knoxville. A city. I doubt they’ll connect it back to us here in Townsend.”

“Could work,” LJ piped up. “We fuck up their transport enough times, they’ll lose a shit ton of cash. Could crumble the club or drive ’em away.”

“It’ll be hard to do more than once. They’ll beef up security after one hit.” Mav owned a PI company and was somewhat of a security expert. “I’m sure we’ll have to get around cameras, maybe a guard, or some fucking dogs.”

“What if we get someone on the inside? Someone hired as a driver. They could discreetly fuck up some trucks. Another way to delay or miss a shipment.” Screw bounced his leg under the table.

Jig pointed at him. “That could work. Tex grew up on a dairy farm. I know for a fact he’s got a commercial driver’s license. We could get him in there. He’s fucking foaming at the mouth to make up for his mistake.”

Tex, a newer prospect, had been on protection detail for Toni and Shell a few weeks ago. He’d fucked up royally and dropped the ball the day they were kidnapped. Toni took the blame, swearing she’d been the one to convince him to hang out in the kitchen of the diner for a while, which allowed her and Shell to slip out unseen. Her story was the only reason the guy hadn’t had his cut shredded. He had something to prove and would love the chance to do it.

“All right. Jig you move on getting him hired and working as soon as fucking possible. I want every single detail he could possibly provide us about the company. Set up, schedules, security, types of trucks, no detail is too small.”

“Got it, boss.”

“It’s a solid plan.” Finally, Rocket spoke up, drawing the attention of all the guys. He’d been a black ops asset for years. Having his approval would go a long fucking way with Copper. Add in the fact he didn’t voice his opinions often, and Screw felt validated.

“We might want to bring Jazzy’s friend, Gumby in on this too,” Rocket added.

Sounded like a good idea to him, but would the rest of the guys agree to let an outsider so deep into the fold?

“What the fuck?” Zach asked.

“The guy’s a mechanic. Might prove useful if we’re disabling trucks.”

Rocket had a point. A good one. Most of the guys in the club knew their way around a bike, but most didn’t have the skill or knowledge to pull off this job properly. Gumby would be an asset on this job and after last night, Screw wanted to spend as much time with the guy as possible. While he wasn’t ready to admit that out loud or analyze the whys of it, he just knew he wanted Gumby at his back yet again.