Diesel shoved back his bar stool and stood, bringing the leader’s beady eyes to him. From his height, Diesel looked down at the stranger and the guy didn’t like it. Not one fucking bit.
Diesel didn’t give a rat’s ass. He’d deliberately put himself closest to the door, so he was actually closest to the leader.
The men behind the leader fanned out as much as they could while they were boxed in by several men who looked mean as fuck.
Whip hit pause on the jukebox, and the room dropped into silence.
The stranger made the mistake of reaching for the weapon that was protruding from the front of his pants.
Before the guy could even close his hand around the thing, Diesel had his Glock out.
Not only him, but the rest of the room as well.
Over twenty weapons of various shapes and sizes were pulled at the same time; the clicks as they were simultaneously locked and loaded echoed loudly in the room.
The leader froze, blinking down at all the different barrels, and lowered his hand slowly away from his weapon.
“I didn’t come for any trouble,” the leader said.
Diesel spit on the sawdust floor and leveled his Glock at the stranger’s forehead.
“Hey now. I said I don’t want no trouble.”
“See now, I think you’re lying,” Diesel growled. “I think you came in here to fuck with us.”
“No I didn’t. We just want the kid. If you know Clay, you’ll hand the kid over.”
“I don’t care to know Auto or Clay. They’re both fucking cowards. Trust me, they don’t want a piece of this, and neither do you.” Diesel curled his lip and took a step forward until the weapon remained only a few feet away from being pressed to the stranger’s forehead.
“Triton is with Clay and Auto.” The guy didn’t look too sure as he said it.
“Not anymore. He’s with me now.” The words fell so smoothly off his tongue that even he started to believe it. “You tell Auto his ass is mine. You tell Clay if he has a beef with walking away, he knows where to find me.”
“If you like breathing, you’ll hand him over,” the leader snapped.
Memphis stepped forward, the badge pinned to his shirt glinting in the bar’s light. “Why don’t you two finger that weapon and take it out.”
“I ain’t done nothing.” The leader swallowed, staring wide-eyed at the sheriff.
“You’re working for a man who robbed the Fern surplus store. I suspect I’m going to find you on the surveillance film. And if I don’t? At the very least, that makes you an accessory to robbery until I can investigate. I suspect that weapon you’re wearing in plain sight is one you don’t have a permit for here in Oregon,” Memphis said.
“I…” the leader started and then stopped, the words trailing off.
“The man you’re working for is wanted on attempted kidnapping and assault charges of one Triton Scott,” Whip said, aiming his weapon at the leader’s heart from his spot behind the bar. Whip pulled aside his vest so the Marshal’s badge glinted on its chain hanging around his neck.
Diesel turned his gaze with deadly intent back to the fucker in front of him.
“Do sumthin’!” the leader snarled at the men at his back.
The big one next to the leader lifted his hands. “You know? I suddenly don’t want no part in this. You can’t pay me enough. Let’s get riding, boys.” The big man turned away.
“Hey, come back here!” the leader roared.
“Eyes over here,” Diesel snapped.
The leader swung back to face him.
“Your best bet is to tell us where Auto-.”
Gunfire cut off Diesel’s words and screaming came from the back room.
“Cuff him!” Memphis snapped at one of his deputies before racing toward the back.
“Shit!” Zane cursed and sprang toward the back hallway.
With long hair flying, Whip did a running slide over the top of the bar and landed just behind Isaac, who was hot on Zane’s ass.
Diesel ran. Fear for Triton sent him careening around the corner where he found Ted sitting on his ass on the floor holding his shoulder. Miles leaned over him.
“Axel and I shot two of them,” Ted panted. “They ran for the alley.”
Axel was out cold on the floor with Doc Parson bending over him.
The back door to the pool hall stood open wide.
“Motherfucker!” Whip snarled and leaped over Axel’s body and sprinted for the back door.
“He got Triton! He ran that way!” Carla Parson screamed.
Diesel followed his brother and Whip along with Memphis and Isaac out into the rain and took cover behind a green industrial sized trash can near the backdoor.
Two of Auto’s men were lying dead in the alley, but there was no Auto.
A flash of something caught the corner of his eye, and instinct had him ducking. The bullet cleaved into the trashcan with a loud thud.
“Shit!” Whip spat and ducked back against the wall. Memphis hunkered down next to him. Zane and Isaac waited for orders.
Diesel gave them.
“Spread out. Box ‘em in. Isaac, get my rifle,” he growled, tossing Isaac his keys to his SUV.
Whip and Zane headed around the side of the building to flank Auto.
Isaac darted off to his SUV.
Memphis stayed with him, and together, they ran from cover to cover, getting as close as possible.
They rounded the corner and he caught a glimpse of Triton taking a swing at Auto, slowing the man down.
Good boy.
Triton was too slight to stop Auto, but he’d put a lag in the man’s steps. Auto dragged Triton by the collar of his shirt and shot off a round in their direction.
“Give it up, Auto, you’ve got no place to go,” Diesel called out.
Whip and Zane had Auto pinned down. The alley dead ended where the other side was blocked off. There was nowhere for Auto to go.
“Get the fuck away or I’ll kill him! I swear it.” Auto fired off a round in his direction and concrete flew. He ducked back with a grimace and spat.
Isaac sprinted down the alley and handed him his sniper rifle.
“Fuck,” Memphis cursed. “Can’t return fire with Triton out there.”
“Cover me,” Diesel rasped to Zane and Isaac.
Sirens echoed down the street as emergency vehicles approached the front of the pool hall.
Diesel sprinted to the side of the alleyway that was littered with another large green trashcan and a couple of parked cars gathering dust because one had a bad engine and the other had stopped running. Memphis was at his six. He’d have to thank the owner later for leaving the junk cars behind his leather shop.
“What do you need me to do?” Memphis whispered.
“Keep the fire off me. I’ll see if I can get a clean shot. You draw him out if you can.”
Memphis took off running to his left, keeping behind what cover he could find.
Diesel ran bent over to the far side of one junk car. Lying flat on his belly across the hood, he set his scope to his eye. He took a few calming breaths to ease his heart rate.
Whip fired off a shot that hit well over Auto’s head to keep his attention focused on the opposite side of the alley from Diesel.
“Give it up, Auto,” Memphis shouted, also drawing Auto’s fire. A bullet slammed into the metal of the car near the sheriff.