When Griffin arrived at the clubhouse, tensions were high. Damon had hand-picked about twenty guys for the mission, and as Griffin sized him up, he decided that they were all pretty decent men for the job. There was, of course, Julian, a man he worked with for about five years now. Julian was probably one of the most stone-cold men Griffin had ever had the pleasure of working with. Even though he was a gentle giant outside of work, Griffin knew that he was completely unflappable. Once when they were running guns by the border, things had gotten a little tense between the club and a Mexican cartel. Griffin was fully prepared to draw his gun and end things right then until Julian took a step forward and stared down the biggest and scariest guy there. It did not take long after that for things to get settled, so if Julian was on the job with him, Griffin knew that things were going to be okay.

 

Ever since Julian had had his back at the Tumbleweed, the man had been walking around as though he had some sort of hilarious secret he needed to tell Griffin. It was almost driving Griffin crazy, but they hadn’t found the time to talk about it just yet.

 

There were a few dodgy ones too, like Bombay and Big Mack. Bombay had a bit of a cocaine problem and was a little too quick on the trigger. Perhaps for a scenario like this it was necessary, but Griffin was not fully sure if he wanted Bombay to be at his back. Big Mack had the opposite problem, when shit hit the fan he was usually one to hesitate. In this scenario, Griffin supposed that the only person who really would get screwed over by that would be Big Mack himself, and that was not going to be Griffin’s problem unless he let it.

 

There were no games being played on the pool table now, and instead an informal gun show had been set up there. Several of the men were mulling over their weapon choices, trying to decide between hand guns or shotguns. Griffin already knew that he was going to carry both. It was better to be over-prepared than under-prepared in his mind.

 

Although everything was tense, lighthearted banter flowed through the room. It was not as though this was anyone’s first rodeo—although a raid of this magnitude was very much unprecedented. Griffin did not mind that so much; he just liked to keep his eye on the prize when it came to that sort of thing. He had to do it for Emanuel.

 

Of course, he was not only doing it for Emanuel, was he? Natasha was also in danger thanks to these assholes, and she more than deserved to be protected, too. He hated the idea of her being alone and vulnerable while he did this, but the sooner it happened the sooner he could get back to her.

 

“Hey Griffin,” Julian said, as Griffin approached the table to pick out his guns. “We’re finally getting those bastards, eh?”

 

Griffin nodded. “It is about time,” he replied.

 

“Damn right.”

 

Bombay picked up a pistol with a shaking hand and gave it a once over. Bombay was never really good at actually checking his guns, but he grabbed a second one just in case, and it was not as though two of them would jam. Big Mack opted for a shotgun.

 

Once the weapons were picked out, the bandannas were passed out. These were going to be worn over the face and nose, just like the cowboys Griffin always thought they were. It was not as though they wanted to go in disguise; the Los Diablos were going to absolutely know what hit them.

 

“You scared, Griffin?” Bombay asked suddenly.

 

Griffin just shrugged. “Why would I be? I’ve been dreaming about doing this since they got Manny.”

 

It was a lie, but a lie mixed with the truth, which made it easier to tell. Sure, he had wanted to take revenge out on those assholes, the Los Diablos, ever since they hit Emanuel and Emanuel hit the ground. He just was not fully sure about the plan itself. It did not matter given the fact that it was passed at a vote, but the pit in his stomach that had started when Emanuel died kept getting bigger the more he thought about it, and Damon’ strange behavior about Griffin’s growing relationship with Natasha was beginning to give him pause.

 

However, he could not show that face to the guys, especially not before the big mission. Instead, he just put on a smiling face and joked with the best of them. The frat boy vibe of the entire place helped to put Griffin at ease, and he could only hope that Natasha was not worrying too much.

 

Fully armed and ready, the group of Disciples went outside to where their bikes were waiting. It was a nearly comical sight, twenty motorcycles all lined up and waiting for their riders, who were joking, throwing fake punches, and giving everyone a general sense of hell. It was good for the men, good for morale, and it all felt like family to Griffin.

 

The chorus of revving engines filled the air. Griffin relished the feeling of his motorcycle between his legs, remembering all over again how he had Natasha on his bike and the feel of her pressed against his chest as he rode. It definitely was a feeling like no other, and he could not wait to feel it again.

 

Now, he had more important things to focus on, and with a whoop to his men, he revved his engine and took off towards the promise of vengeance.