I called a meeting of everyone at the farm. “I said yesterday that anyone who wanted to leave would be provided transportation. That offer still stands. That being said I assume that everyone in attendance is here for the long haul.
“I’ll tell you what we know: The biker I killed near Carlow was very respected by the gang. According to the newspaper, close to 300 members from all around the world attended his funeral. It said that he ‘used to have Bible talks at work in the mornings and prayer meetings in the afternoon.’ Police described him as ‘hard-working, friendly, but private.’ He had no criminal record. His girlfriend read a tearful statement and won the heart of a nation. So, that really makes me feel like shit.
“Had I not killed him he, or another gang member, would have killed me and Rhondda. In addition to that, I killed another gang member in the United States and many of his brothers came here for the funeral. Because Rhondda was with me on both occasions she will be considered an accessory after the fact. Paddy, by harboring a fugitive, is also implicated. Not a very positive situation all around.
“We can expect an attack at any time. It’s doubtful that gang members will be riding motorcycles or wearing club patches, that would make them obvious targets. We know that they have access to every kind of weapon from handguns to rocket launchers. Luckily, thanks to Paddy and our military comrades we have an even greater arsenal of weapons. It is expected that the gang will make the first strike. That is likely to bring in the police which further complicates matters. They won’t yet be aware of my involvement in the murders, gangs have a ‘no comment’ policy concerning the police.
“Soldiers have installed surveillance cameras covering every angle of the clubhouse. If anything out of the ordinary appears we will be informed. At present, all we can do is wait and be ready to act immediately to anything they throw at us. I asked yesterday if any of you had contact with any members of a biker gang. Any information they could pass on would be of help. If they have grudges against this gang they may even offer assistance.”
A mortar shell hit close to the house and another hit near the barn. In quick succession, two more followed striking both the barn and the house. War was on. Luckily, neither of those buildings were occupied. We had seen the trajectory of the two rounds, so we knew where to direct our offense. A platoon of mercenaries in full battle gear and camouflage headed toward the area. The range of a mortar shell is approximately 6 km. Our troops immediately brought out an M270 multiple rocket launcher and fired 3 rockets toward the disappearing trail of smoke. It then moved to another position. Our ground forces would advise if we had made an effective strike. If nothing else we shook up our adversaries and showed them our superior firing power.
All was quiet for a while. then we heard the sound of assault rifles. One of our troops identified the distinctive sound as being that of an M27 Infantry Automatic Rifle used extensively by US Marines in Afghanistan. There were brief bursts of fire then silence.
A tall, bearded, scraggly looking man wearing a red and black plaid flannel shirt approached me. “Patrick,” he said, “I’m Ted. I think I can be of help.”
“I was a hunter and trapper in northern Canada for 29 years. If I can get within shooting distance of bears without being seen, I can certainly do the same with a bunch of clumsy bikers. I can handle any kind of gun but prefer a bow and arrows. I prefer quiet and it seems more sportsmanlike.”
“I’ll take you to our Sergeant-at-Arms and see how we can equip you. Bows and arrows may be in short supply.” We managed to find him a sniper’s rifle that he was familiar with then he headed in the direction of the mortar trail.
Another man, tall, gangly with long greasy hair asked, “Can I get a gun, perhaps a nine millimeter and a shotgun.”
I said, “I notice that you walk with a slight limp. Are you a war veteran?”
“No, a friend shot me. The bullet went in here,” pointing to his thigh, “it broke my femur and came out the back of my leg. They had to cut me open to put the rod in.
“I got it at a house party, there was lots of booze, drugs, but I decided to leave. My bro asked for my gun. I took it out of my pocket, took the clip out, but forgot there was still a shell in the chamber. It had a hair-trigger, much too sensitive. When my bro took my gun, he accidentally shot me in the leg.
I asked, “Why did your friend want your gun?”
“‘Cause he wanted to shoot the guy.”
“I assume you’ve done time in prison. We won’t hold it against you.”
“The last time I was in prison was in 1995. I was in Collins Bay for nearly five years.”
I asked, “What were you in for?”
“Bank robbery. I was just seventeen, selling drugs, robbing banks, boxing. That’s when I was sparring with George Chuvallo and Shawn O’Sullivan. I still got it.”
I said, “I’m sure you can be of great help to us. Talk to Paddy, our Sergeant-at-Arms.”
I got a call from one of our mercenaries at the front. He said, “We sure surprised them, they scattered like rabbits. They’ve locked themselves in their clubhouse. We’ll wait for them to come out. I’m sure that one of our rockets could annihilate them if that’s what you want.”
I said, “Hold your position. We’ll hold a brief meeting to decide on our next step.”
I called another meeting. I said, “I think we have them on the run. We have the choice of sending rockets at their clubhouse. That would probably kill everyone inside. Is that what we want, or should we wait to see what happens next?”
General agreement was to wait. In the distance, we heard the sound of police sirens.
Sample my books for free — To date, $1945.00 has been donated to the homeless:
Gotta Find a Home: Conversations with Street People
http://buff.ly/1SGzGCY ($.99 Download)
http://buff.ly/1qLHptc ($.99 Download)
https://buff.ly/2lUfp6Q ($.99 Download)
https://buff.ly/2Gkoyxj ($.99 Download)