Road Tripped: Satan's Devils MC Utah #1

by Manda Mellett

  “You could have asked Drummer for help.”

  “Not our way, Brother. We’d fucked up, we had to make it right. Just was a struggle trying to find some way to do it. Grinch, Mystic and Goofy worked their asses off building up an auto-shop. Thor turned his hand to mechanics and backed them up. We were on the bread line, only just surviving. Continued that way for three years. We had no choice, the mafia was always in the background, watching in case we stepped on their toes again.” He nods at Pip.

  “I’ll pitch in now.” Pip raises his chin at Snatcher. “I was with the CIA, one of their top hostage negotiators. Yeah, I’ll say it myself. I worked with embassies all over the world when there were international kidnappings. I was the one they wanted when they needed to get hostages released. My last mission though was a bust. It was a setup, and I never had a chance of success. The mistake was on the clown who called me in. I should never have been involved.” He sighs heavily and picks up his whisky. After a large sip, he replaces the glass on the table. “The kidnapping was staged to cover a premeditated murder of someone a powerful senator wanted out. There was never a chance of a rescue, and I quickly figured it out.” His face reddens and his fist hits the wooden tabletop. “I was taken for a fuckin’ fool, but fool I certainly was not. I saw it for what it was and sent the message up the chain. Another message came back down.” He takes a deep breath. “I was terminated from that day, my recommendations and observations disavowed, as was I myself. After a career hunting the bad guys, I was a wanted man myself.”

  I hadn’t expected that. I cock an eyebrow at him. “So you had to hide? What the fuck brought you to the Satan’s Devils?”

  “It’s a longer story than that. Goes back to that final kidnapping.” A wave of visible pain washes over Pip’s face. “You had any dealings with Cowboy while you’ve been here?”

  I shrug. “Only enough to know he was a Navy chef who was going to open his own place when he’d done his time. It was strange to discover he’s cooking for an MC instead.”

  Pip nods, acknowledging my point. “As one of the Navy’s top chefs, he not only provided meals for the sailors on the ship, he also was personally responsible for providing gourmet food for admirals and visiting dignitaries. A senator brought along his assistant to one of those dinners. The food was excellent, I’m led to believe, and the senator wanted to pay his compliments to the chef. His assistant was pretty, and she caught Cowboy’s eye. Well, the attraction was mutual, and phone numbers were exchanged. Cowboy caught up with her when he had shore leave, and things progressed quite fast. They married, and shortly after, a daughter was born.”

  Pip pauses to take another sip of his whisky, while my brain puts things together. What he’s going to say next won’t be good hearing. Cowboy made no reference to a family he clearly once had.

  Pip replaces his glass on the table and resumes. “Cowboy obviously had to conduct a long-distance relationship, spending long periods apart. He’d decided to end his time with the Navy, and he and Gianetta had plans. She was going to give up her job and they’d open a restaurant together. She’d do the admin, and Cowboy would concentrate on creating the delicacies he was famed for. But it didn’t work out. The senator went out on a trip to Paris. It was there, Gianetta was kidnapped, along with her little girl.”

  “Your last case?” I put two and two together. “Not a genuine kidnapping, but someone wanted her out of the way? Why had she taken her daughter along?”

  “She always did when she could if she travelled. She didn’t like leaving her at home, and Cowboy was doing his last tour. France is safe. Cowboy thought she wanted to show her the sights like the Eiffel Tower.” Pip raises his chin then dips it. “As his assistant, she had access to the senator’s paperwork, often being called into meetings to take notes. She was an intelligent woman, too many brains as it turned out. She got to know too much about things the senator didn’t want getting back to the States, in particular a large payoff from the Russians.”

  When Pip pauses and takes another large sip of his whisky, I know we’re getting down to the details now.

  He picks the story up again. “It was made to look legit—they were kidnapped, snatched from her apartment, ransom demands came in. As a coincidence, I was close by, having just completed another mission. I was called in as negotiator. I was taken in by the senator’s crocodile tears for a while, then things began to smell off. But I was an agent, and he was a politician.” Pip shrugs. “Clearly, he was being protected by powerful people who also didn’t want her info to circle back this side of the Atlantic, and by people who didn’t appreciate me sticking my nose in.”

  “Cowboy’s wife and kid were killed.” I don’t ask, I make the obvious statement.

  Pip doesn’t bother to confirm it. “I’d been dealing with Cowboy, liked the man. He’d been given leave as his woman was missing. He was a frantic, desperate man, while we were waiting. When their bodies were found, he was devastated. To this day, he’s never gotten over it. He wanted revenge, especially as he’d put the situation together the same way as I had, and he had the benefit of knowing that woman of his. He told me if she knew something, something so important it could bring the senator down, she’d have backed that up. He found it, gave it to me. I told him…” Pip wipes a hand over his face. “I told him I’d deal with it. Instead, I was kicked out and had to go underground. But I stayed in contact with Cowboy. I knew there was only one thing that would help him. Justice.”

  “What happened?”

  Pip’s eyes meet mine. “The senator returned stateside. I followed him. Found I wasn’t the only man on his trail. We ended up working together as a team, and the senator met with a fortunate accident. That man…” he pauses, and looks directly into my eyes, making me feel the next piece of information is going to be significant. “That man went, still goes, by the handle, Devil.”

  That name rings a fucking loud bell. But surely, it can’t be? “He have a jagged scar down his face?”

  Pip smirks. “I thought you’d know him. Jason Deville is his proper handle. Of course it was long before he met Drummer in Tucson. When that business blew up with Sam, it was me who recommended he contact Drummer head-on.”

  “I thought it was because Drummer had met Devil’s business partner at the sheikh’s wedding.” I press my lips together.

  “That was the useful thing. He had. But we’d been monitoring the sex slave traffickers. We were the ones to find out Sam was being targeted, and Devil was already on that case.” His eyes meet mine. “You’ve already seen what we’re capable of. Devil is just one of the people who use our skills.”

  Skills that shouldn’t exist in Utah. But I don’t comment about that, instead I think of what I know of Devil. He’s a partner in a security company based in the UK. He works for the feds as a consultant from time to time. If he hadn’t have appeared when he had, Drummer wouldn’t have known Sam was at risk. I know Drummer remains suspicious of his motives, but then he’s that way about everyone who doesn’t wear our patch.

  “Getting back on track, the senator was dead, and Devil was already investigating one of the people Gianetta’s information had named. We pooled our resources. I’d taken Cowboy under my wing. He was anchorless and needed to exact revenge. Well, let it just be said that another man who didn’t deserve to live is now gone. As I’d proved useful to Devil, he offered me a job with Grade A Security, but I didn’t want to work for anyone anymore, whoever they were and whatever their resources. And Devil himself? Well, it wasn’t just his surname that earned him that handle. He’s straddled the line between good and evil for so long, I’m not certain he knows which side he’s standing at any one time.”

  Much like Drummer’s assessment of the man. Devil hadn’t led us wrong and seemed to be on the right side. He’d helped us rescue Mariana from Colombia, but it had suited his purpose to take her evil father out. If we hadn’t been treading the same path, would he have gone to the same lengths he had? It’s impossible to know.
r />   17

  Road…

  “It must have destroyed Cowboy. I can understand that. But I don’t see where the link is between you and the Satan’s Devils MC.”

  Pip slowly raises his head and dips it again as though I’ve asked something intelligent.

  “Cowboy was a man who had no dreams, and nothing left to live for. He’d planned to go home to Texas, but that was when his family was alive. He couldn’t even stomach the thought of returning alone. He needed a fresh start. To be honest, we’d struck up a friendship, and I was worried what would happen to him on his own. I decided to stick with him. We basically stuck a pin in the map and headed here, to Utah.”

  Snatcher glances at Pip, who raises his chin toward him, and he takes over again. “Our club had been decimated, our businesses taken away from us. The auto-shop was turning a profit, but again, the mafia started fuckin’ with us, and wanted to use our skills to adapt their vehicles so they could transport weapons and drugs. None of us remaining members wanted to work with them pulling our strings. One night, we were out drowning our sorrows and chucking ideas around, when Pip and Cowboy appeared.” Snatcher chuckles. “Well, it’s fair to say Preacher threw his beer over Pip—quite accidentally—but Pip, well, for a moment I wasn’t sure how he’d react to that. He was a man who could handle himself, and for a moment I worried that we might be carrying Preacher out in a box. So I stepped up, apologised, and invited him and his companion to join us.”

  Pip sighs. “Cowboy and I had just arrived in Utah. If we wanted to stay, we had to blend in, and that meant getting on the right side of the locals. So there was I, in a borrowed t-shirt, sitting down with the remnants of an MC. As they talked, it was clear they were a club with a problem and Cowboy and I needed a home.”

  “Surprisingly they fit in.” Snatcher takes over again. “Well, Pip is the master of that, and Cowboy, he rode a motorcycle and knew all the right terms. When we found they’d just arrived, we took them back to the clubhouse to give them a bed for the night.”

  “Mystic had had too much to drink. In his drunken ramblings, he let slip that the Devils had a mafia problem. Just so happens I quickly came up with a plan for sorting that out.” Pip grins, showing his teeth.

  Snatcher barks a laugh. “Suddenly, all the truck’s carrying drugs and guns were being stopped by the police. Pip’s plan was so clever, the mafia suspected, but couldn’t prove shit, and Pip was more than a match for them when they came and threatened us.”

  “Devil helped,” Pip acknowledges. “The mafia got the message and stopped using the shop. At last the Utah chapter was free. Devil, though, wanted a reward.”

  “And in paying his price, we started doing some of his work. Then branched out, taking on most of what we do alone. Sometimes we still help Devil out, but we’re not beholden to him. It’s been both satisfying and lucrative.” Snatcher grins.

  “We left Grinch, Mystic and Goofy to continue to run our shop and we moved in here.” Pip nods at his VP.

  They keep mentioning the names of men I haven’t met. Presuming they’ve moved on, I don’t bother asking about them. “This clubhouse,” I focus on what had bothered me from the start, “it’s more like an office block.”

  “That’s what it is,” Pip says. “It’s a front. We still have the old one, that’s where we have our parties, and that’s where the locals think we live. But this is where we do business.”

  “And your business is finding and rescuing kidnapped kids?”

  “Partly,” Pip says. “We track down bad guys. Some we deal with ourselves, sometimes we help point people in the right direction. We keep our ears to the ground. It’s right to say, information is our business.”

  “San Diego and Colorado,” I state, recalling again how angry Drummer had been. “You didn’t just pass on information. You took the fuckin’ kills.”

  Pip’s face goes dark. “Stormy can’t follow fuckin’ orders. He likes to show off. Look, Road, I know it was wrong. Fuck, if I were Lost or Demon I’d be out for blood as well. That’s why I’ve pulled Stormy in.”

  Pip’s ire is palpable. At least he acknowledges they’d fucked up. “Why you?” I ask the other burning question. “I can follow that you joined the club because you gave them a direction to go in, but Snatcher was the prez.”

  Snatcher takes up the story. “Sure, I was the prez, but Pip was the ideas man. If someone wants their daughter returned safe and sound, he’s clean-cut and shaven and can pass for a respectable man.” He grins at Pip who shows him his finger, and it’s my first real glimpse of how this partnership works. “Pip became the front for our business. When he started to issue orders, no one objected. Came so I asked myself why the fuck I was sitting at the top of the table, repeating what Pip had said first.” He glances at me, but I stay quiet. “We brought in new members. Not only did they want to join an MC, but we picked them for their skills. They automatically looked to Pip as a leader.” He raises and lowers his shoulders. “I didn’t care. After all the hassle with the mafia, losing our members as we did, I was happy to step back and abdicate responsibility.”

  “We work well together.” Pip sends his second-in-command a sharp look. “Don’t read Snatcher wrong, Road. He’s the outward face of the MC, while I’m the person who brings in the business. When someone turns up to ask for our help, they enter a modern, clean environment and are greeted by a receptionist. Hell, they have a meal in our cafeteria. They find exactly what they’re expecting and have confidence we can do what they want.”

  “They enter the Satan’s Devils MC.” I narrow my eyes. “I saw the nameplate.”

  “You saw a card which can be replaced with whatever we want when we’re expecting company. SD Consulting, or something appropriate to the situation. When we invite someone back here, we put on a front that they are most comfortable with.”

  Except when I’d turned up and caught them off-guard.

  “But why keep this from Drummer?” That’s what I can’t understand.

  “I don’t ride a bike and have no desire too,” Pip starts to explain. “That would exclude me from leading the MC, publicly or privately. And what about Swift? I may not have broken the regulations as they don’t specifically exclude women members, but Drummer’s assumption is that we all have dicks.”

  Apart from being totally unable to understand why Pip won’t ride a motorcycle, I suppose I’ve been told everything I need to know. It’s one hell of a backstory, but one which is credible. Perhaps if I hadn’t previously met Devil, I’d have found it harder to believe. What I don’t know, is, “Where does this leave me?”

  “Pip and I have had some discussion, Road. A suggestion was already made that you patch over, and we want you to seriously consider it. We’d like you to join us.”

  I snort. “You just don’t want me running back to Drummer and let him in on your game.”

  Snatcher looks annoyed. “There’s that, but there’s more to it. We think you’ve got something to offer.”

  For the second time I snort, then scoff. “Yeah, right. I can see I’m a good fit—”

  “Road, I don’t think you realise what you can bring to the table,” Pip interrupts. “Snatch has told me that your ideas yesterday shaved a day off us rescuing that kid.” He taps his brain. “Sometimes it’s not about schooling, certificates or having a trade. Sometimes what’s needed is good old-fashioned common sense. You’ve got to be quick-witted to be able to ride as you do—”

  “Did.” My turn to break into his speech.

  “Did, do, will, won’t. That’s beside the fuckin’ point.” At that moment I see what Snatcher had seen all those years ago in the bar. This is a man who’ll take no prisoners and who I should stay on the right side of. His appearance of respectability is an illusion.

  “We won’t even make you prospect.” Snatcher relieves the building tension with a quick grin.

  That was an option? “What if I say no?”

  Snatcher mimes cutting his throat which makes Pip
roll his eyes. He picks up the bottle and waves at my glass. When I nod, he tops it up.

  “Depends whether we can trust you, Road. This operation we run has saved hundreds of lives.”

  “I get that,” I tell him, raising my glass and breathing in the fumes before taking a sip. This is the type of whisky you savour. “But say Drummer wanted to close this chapter down. You’ve got everything you need to go it alone, start your own club. I don’t understand what’s so important about staying Satan’s Devils.”

  “Satan’s Devils are known. They’ve got a charter from the dominant club, the Wretched Soulz. It’s not just a cover for us, being Devils is our way of life.”

  “I understand that from you, Snatcher, but Pip doesn’t ride a bike.”

  Suddenly Pip lurches forward. “I also don’t have tats or a beard. Want me to grow one so I look like I fit? I run this club. I look after the members. I run this business. You want me to give that all up because I don’t want to ride a fuckin’ bike?”

  “You want to, Pip.” Snatcher nudges him.

  “Whether I want to or not is moot. I don’t have… How the hell did we get on to this? I was asking Road if we could trust him.” Pip’s face has gone red.

  “You sound like you’re giving me a choice, but what choice is it? Whether I transfer or return to Tucson, I wouldn’t be able to avoid lying to my prez. You’re asking me to fabricate some story about what you get up to in Utah.” My eyes meet Pip’s. “He’s not stupid, Pip. Don’t underestimate him. He’ll not be satisfied with an ‘everything’s fine’. He’ll want to know all the details, how you’re making your money for a start.”

  “Then stay. Don’t go back.”

  “Just as bad, Pip. I don’t return and Drummer will come looking for me. He won’t consider a transfer request without seeing me face-to-face. You were right when I first arrived. Drummer asked me to check your chapter out. Sure, I can tell him you don’t run drugs or deal in guns and have nothing to do with prostitution, but that will lead him to ask how you do make the dollars you earn. I don’t want to lie.” If I do, eventually it will come out, it’s hard to keep anything from Drummer. If I stay in Utah, I won’t want to feel exiled from Tucson. I’ll want to go back to visit my brothers, their old ladies, and hell, I’ll even miss Grunt the dog, Allie’s fuckin’ cat, and, goddamn it, the kids.