Chapter 3
Weapons Deal
Hammer left the club house at dusk, heading across town to meet with his longtime supplier. As always he left his son and club in the capable hands of his VP Marlow and a half dozen prospects. The two story brick clubhouse was behind his sprawling nine bay commercial garage. Both were safely ensconced behind a twelve foot high chain link fence with barbed wire on top. The electronic security alone would make a paranoid CEO jealous. Hammer took his responsibilities as club president and father very seriously. There were certain things he absolutely never risked and his son and club were at the top of that short list.
Within moments they arrived at the abandoned service station on the outskirts of town. Parking their bikes in the back, they waited for Squirrely. Decker drew his attention by stooping beside him as he kept watch. His Sergeant of Arms might just be the best in the region. He was quick and street smart. Protecting the club and his brothers came as naturally as breathing.
“Hey boss, you think Squirrely’s up to the challenge?”
“He’s solid, and has never let us down yet. We can always count on him to come through for us in a pinch.”
“We’re definitely in a fix right now, boss. If the fuckin feds hadn’t confiscated that truckload of rifles, we’d be sittin’ pretty. As it stands now, we’re more or less screwed.”
“The weapons can be scrounged. I’m worried about our crew that got pinched.” Hammer’s voice was stressed and evidenced his preoccupation wrestling with multiple issues at once.
“We best get to scroungin’. Our buyer is screaming for his merchandise.”
Hammer thought to himself that they didn’t have enough to fill the order even if they included their own personal arsenal. Giving up one weapon from their personal stock was not an option because of the escalating conflict with a rival club, The Grim MC. They were one percenters as well, and possibly their most dangerous adversary. The smarter members of his crew knew that already. There was no need to panic the ones who hadn’t figured it out yet.
Shipping another load through their normal network right now was simply too risky. That left the dubious proposition of procuring them from other dealers. Regardless of what his name implied, Squirrely was their most solid option at the moment.
Decker took a long draw off his cigarette before rubbing it out and tucking it in his pocket. The smart man was light years ahead of everyone else in understanding the importance of not leaving DNA evidence behind that could lead to him or the club. If only everyone were so conscientious.
They heard the sound of a motor. Squirrely arrived in a beat up pick-up truck, dressed like a modern day cowboy in jeans, a flannel shirt and western boots. Dusting his hat across the front of his jeans he placed it back on his head before walking over.
“Hammer, long time no see.”
“I know you usually deal with Decker, but I wanted to discuss this deal in detail myself. Guess you heard what went down on Route 60?”
“Damn shame how your boys got arrested. Any chance of getting them out?”
“We’re lawyered up. The rifles were all legal. All they can get them on is transporting in excess of the number of legal firearms permitted by state law without the proper permit. Under Arizona state law, the weapons are forfeit though.”
Decker added, “If they keep their mouths shut, they get out of it.”
“Costs of doing business, I suppose. If there’s anything I can do, let me know. Now, what can do for you tonight?”
“Clearly we need to replace the cargo that got impounded by the police. Like I said, it was all rifles, mostly Remingtons. Let’s just say if we tried to replace the number we’d have to draw down every sporting goods store in a five county radius. It’d raise some suspicion. What can you do for us?”
“I can grab you about anything you want. On hand right now I have around 500 Nosler M48 TGR 2010’s and about 1,000 Remington 798’s. If you want to wait a week, I can get ahold of another 1,000 Savage Model 12 F/TR’s. Got about 500 odd and end different models from a gun shop that closed down in Hyattsville. Hell, I even have a few dozen, Sauer 202 Avantgarde Grande’s, but you know those are expensive.”
Hammer rubbed his chin as he thought over the options. He’d need to sweeten the deal to ensure a continuation of business with his current buyer. Give me the Nosler’s, the Savages’ and a dozen of the Grande’s. That should appease my buyer. I might send Decker back for a variety of your odd and ends to add to our personal stock. He’ll need to try each one of those out before we buy.”
“I understand. I wasn’t expecting you to want so many. I’ll try to get the price down on the lot. Decker can meet with you over the weekend and we’ll go through them all.”
“I know you two will work us out a fair price.”
The man smiled as he nodded his head. “You’ve never shorted me in all the years we’ve done business.”
“I owe you one for this, Squirrely. If you ever need a favor, the club will be here for you.”
After a friendly hand shake they were on their way back to the club. Hammer was frustrated with this situation. Even with the rock bottom price he was likely to get from Squirrely, the club would lose money on this transaction. However, salvaging the relationship with the buyer was of paramount importance at this juncture.
As soon as the prospects opened the gate, they headed to the club and parked their bikes. Hammer stalked to his office and slammed the door behind him. Grabbing a burner phone, he put a battery in it and dialed his buyer.
“Ham Hammer, is that you. You no have my rifles. Yooouuu make me very angry. I pay you money…big money. Son Schu want his rifles. That me, Son Schu. You have my rifle ass hole?”
Hammer huffed an exasperated breath. His buyer was Korean and every single interaction with the man was just like this. He was high strung, barely spoke English, and always pushing him. Many years of dealing with the eccentric man, had taught him both patience and to cut to the chase. Mimicking the buyer’s broken English he quickly explained.
“Son Schu. I have extra rifle for you. Monday, you get your shipment. Because you wait, I throw in a dozen Sauer 202 Avantgarde Grande’s. Verrry expensive weapons. Yours for free, because you wait.”
“Yes, yes, yes. I say yes to your deal, Ham Hammer. I want extra rifle. Good, good deal. Call me on Monday. Bye bye, ass hole.”
Hammer listened to the dial tone for a brief second before ripping out the battery and tossing both in the trash can. He was convinced Son used the term ass hole with no real understanding of how offensive it was. He probably thought he was speaking some kind of cool street lingo. God, the guy was total nuisance. Still, a little voice whispered in the back of his head, Son Schu was smarter because he spoke two languages. That wasn’t logical, but his self-doubts rarely were.
The only real issue was money. The Korean’s money was green. That was the only thing that mattered to the MC and therefore the only thing that mattered to Hammer. Dealing with him might be a pain but that was business. He spent every day doing what was hard instead of what came easy and that was the reason his club was flush while others were barely making it.
Hammer swam his way through his brothers who were already getting drunk and the dozen or so club whores who serviced them. They knew better than to approach him before he checked on his son. Ascending two sets of stairs, he headed for the attic space. It held only two spacious suites. One for him and the other for his son. Absolutely no one was allowed on the third floor. It was their private family space.
Knocking on the door, he waited for Jaden to unlock it. Seeing his son’s smiling face, hit him square in the chest. He quickly stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. He’d soundproofed the entire attic when his son was born. If not for that, neither of them would probably get any sleep most nights.
Jaden motioned towards the homework on his desk and climbed onto his bed.
Hammer sat down and went over the five sheets of paper. He mumbled, “Nice work, son. I think you probably could have done a little better on the Battle of Gettysburg SA.”
“Who cares about some war with muskets?”
Hammer fought to keep the smile off his face. Pulling up his son’s online account, he purchased him a Digital copy of The Art of War.
“I want you to read through this book a little at a time and we’ll talk about while we spar.”
Jaden came to stand behind him, looking curiously over his shoulder. “What is it?”
“It’s a fifth century Chinese book about war strategy. I read it when I was your age. It’s a hard read on a good day, but if you get through it you’ll learn a lot.”
Jaden nodded his head, they said their goodnights, and Hammer headed downstairs for grown up time.