Thunder (Hell's Handlers MC 10)
Thunder followed him to a square four-person table. Once settled, Mav pulled out a tablet. “Okay, I’ve got a few cameras positioned in some areas that give us a view of the CDMC’s clubhouse. There aren’t stellar angles, but they give us a good idea of how many people are coming and going and shit like that.” He pulled up an app on the tablet that revealed a split-screen view of four camera angles.
One had a fairly solid view of the parking lot, one the rear of the warehouse the CDMC claimed as their clubhouse, one was too far to see much more than a grainy image of the building, and the fourth had a view of two doors on the side of the building.
“Where do these doors lead?” asked Thunder, pointing to the image of the side doors.
Mav shrugged. “Not sure. Haven’t seen them used much. One might go to the main level, and my guess is a basement for the other.”
“Hmm.” Thunder scratched his chin as he focused on the screen.
“Whatcha thinking?” Mav sat back in his seat and gave Thunder his full attention.
“I’m wondering how close we can get to the place. I know it’s too fucking risky to try to get inside, especially after what happened with Screw and his man, but once they’re all trashed and distracted, we might be able to creep around outside. I’d fucking kill to know where that door goes. Shit, they could store all their guns in there if it goes underground.”
About six weeks ago, Screw and Gumby had gone to a party at the CDMC’s clubhouse. They’d hoped to gather some intel incognito, and the plan would have worked if it hadn’t been for their ol’ lady’s neighbor who recognized them and outed the pair to the CDMC’s enforcer, Crank. The night almost ended in disaster, but Gumby and Screw managed to get out with nothing more than shit in their pants and pounding hearts.
Well, that and a new set of assholes courtesy of a furious Copper. They might have failed to mention their plan to the prez before charging full speed ahead. Thunder hoped to avoid that foolish mistake. Only sanctioned actions for him.
Twisting his lower lip, Maverick seemed to consider their options. Thunder remained quiet, giving him a minute or two to think.
“Here’s the thing,” he said. “Their security is shit. It was when Screw and G went there, and even now, they haven’t beefed it up. We can get damn close without being on their property, and no one will ever notice us. Let’s stick to our side of the fence tonight. If we like what we see, we’ll try to get beyond the gates another time. Sound like a plan?”
“Works for me,” Thunder said with a nod. No point in arguing with the man who’d worked in the security biz for more than a decade. Mav knew surveillance like the back of his hand. What the hell did Thunder know beyond shaking his ass and making women come?
Maybe it was time to start thinking a little more seriously about a career. Working at the gym was great and all, but it wasn’t exactly his passion. He worked out to stay fit and look good and training others to do the same paid the bills for now, but Thunder didn’t envision a long future of coaching mildly motivated gym newbies or even fitness enthusiasts. Just wasn’t for him.
Over the years, he’d had a few ideas of jobs he could turn into a career. One thought, in particular, kept creeping into his brain, but it was so ridiculous, he’d never given it more than a few moments of brainpower.
“Okay, let’s roll,” Mav said. “No bikes. We’re taking a cage.” He rose from the table and motioned for Thunder to follow.
“Figured as much,” Thunder said, hopping up and jogging after his brother. “Quieter and easier to go unnoticed if we’re not cruising in with roaring pipes.”
“Yep. Gimme one second.”
Thunder followed Mav with his gaze as the man bounded halfway up the staircase. On her way down, his ol’ lady, Stephanie, met him halfway. They spoke a few low words back and forth before Mav shook his head. Steph frowned while planting her hands on her hips.
It took an enormous amount of effort for Thunder to keep from laughing. Without hearing a word, he knew exactly how that conversation was going. The petite, blond, former FBI agent was asking her tatted-up biker boyfriend why the fuck he wouldn’t let her tag along. Mav would be throwing out some bullshit reasons having to do with him being unable to fully concentrate if she were there and had to worry about her.
Steph narrowed her eyes, clearly gearing up for a fight when Mav whispered something in her ear. The change in her was really something to see. She melted against her man, and then they were kissing like they’d been apart for months.