Page 9 of My Older Biker

Chuck is the last one in. He closes the door and leans against it like standing takes effort.

"Alright," Clint says. "Chuck found him at five this morning. Outside his apartment. Three rounds. Close range. Execution."

The word lands heavy.

Perry's chair is empty. Eight years in that exact seat.

Last Tuesday he asked me about carburetors. Had a problem with his bike. I walked him through the fix in the parking lot while he nodded and took notes on his phone.

He thanked me three times. That was Perry, never took anything for granted.

Now someone put three bullets in him and left his body on the pavement like garbage.

I realize my hands are fisted on the table. Force them flat.

Tate's hands curl into fists on the table. Cain doesn't look up from his screen. Roan's breathing changes, gets slower and more controlled.

"Marrow?" I ask.

"Yeah." Chuck's voice is rough. "Left a playing card. Their calling card from back when they wanted credit. They want us to know this was them."

"Why Perry?" someone asks.

"Because he lived alone," Cain says without looking up. "No old lady. No kids. No one waiting up when he didn't come home on time. Marrow's been watching routines. Looking for vulnerabilities. Perry was the easiest target."

That sits wrong in my chest. Perry died because he was alone. Because no one was there to notice when he didn't come back.

"Where's his body now," I say.

"County morgue," Clint answers. "Coroner won't release it until Monday. Funeral's Tuesday."

The room goes quiet again. We all know what comes next. This isn't a conversation about grief. It's a conversation about retaliation.

"Chuck," Clint says. "What do we know about Marrow's current location?"

Chuck straightens. "They abandoned the clubhouse after we hit them two weeks ago. Cain tracked them to a warehouse property in an industrial zone. No residential nearby. Three structures on the lot, main one is where they're operating from."

"How many inside?"

"Best guess, five to seven. Sully for sure. Two others Chuck ID'd from surveillance photos. The rest are unknowns."

"Dutch?"

"Still recovering from the beating Diesel gave him. Unlikely to be operational."

Clint looks around the table. "We hit them tonight. Midnight. Six riders. Dean leads."

I nod. Expected this.

"I want Tate, Cain, Roan, Axel, Ford," Clint continues. "Objective is clear. We dismantle what's left of their operation in this county. Sully doesn't leave that warehouse."

No one asks for clarification. We all know what dismantle means. This is a kill mission.

"Intel package will be ready by noon," Cain says. "Floor plans, entry points, known weapons cache."

"Good." Clint looks at me. "Questions?"

"Rules of engagement?"