Chapter 11

Caden

“I’m Patrick, Balefire’s older brother.” Patrick is tall and slender, definitely unlike the build that Rebel has, and I really can’t see much of a resemblance. Patrick looks to be about thirty. He has red hair, freckles, and deep green eyes. I really can’t picture him with an AK-47 slung over his shoulder and I wonder what role he plays in the organization. He looks more like brains than muscle.

“I’m Damon, Patrick’s older brother.” Now this guy could be Rebel’s twin. He is also tall but has a much bigger build than Patrick. I’m guessing that he’s about my age. He has Rebel’s blond hair and light green eyes. I can definitely picture Damon with an AK-47 or two slung over his shoulder. He’s definitely muscle, but I’m not sure if he’s got any brains.

“I’m Ice,” I say. It’s a bit overwhelming to meet your family members for the first time at my age. It’s also surreal. I’ve had all this family that I knew nothing about until recently. I think back to when my mom was killed and how lost and alone I felt. All I had was Ari, who was ten at the time and she needed me to be strong. Things would’ve been so much easier if I had known about my family in Ireland or Ace. But then again, if I had, I may not have ended up in the MC.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that everything has happened as it should. My life took the path it was supposed to take. It brought me here to Belfast to meet my two cousins for the first time.

After all the introductions are made and the small talk put aside, it’s time to get down to the matter at hand. Patrick says, “Ice, we really appreciate you and your crew coming to help us out.”

“We’re family, right? And even before I knew Rebel and I were related, he was my brother. We take that shit seriously in the club. We always protect our own.”

I don’t really know anything about Patrick and Damon, but it seems to me that they’re worried, frazzled, and a bit scared. It is odd to me that men that have spent their lives dealing with violence are handling this so poorly. Something doesn’t add up. I say, “Before we get into all the details, I have a couple of questions. First, why did you wait two weeks before you contacted Rebel about your parents’ disappearance? And two: I assume you have many contacts within your organization. Why my club? Why me?”

“We think their abduction came from the inside,” Damon says nervously.

His words fall to the floor like a dead weight. A rat! At least, that’s what we call it. I’m not sure what it is called in their world, but a rat is a rat no matter what world you place it in.

He continues, “We’re keeping their disappearance on the hush-hush in the hopes that the person responsible will slip up. But after about two weeks, we started getting desperate. That’s when we got Rebel involved. We knew he was part of your MC. We also knew that the Knights are huge, with Chapters all over the US and in Europe. You and your club were the outsiders we needed to trust.”

“Nothing like laying all the pressure on my club, Damon,” I reply.

“That’s unfair. If you knew there was someone in your club that turned against you, you can’t tell me that you wouldn’t find the one thing or person that you could trust to fish them out. Right?”

He had a point. “Well, if you put it that way …” I pause for a minute and then continue, “So, why don’t you start from the beginning and tell us everything that’s happened leading up to and after their disappearance?”

“Although things have been building over the last several years, threats against my mam and da started to really heat up this past January after we attempted to kill a police officer in north Belfast. We hit him several times at a petrol station on Crumlin Road, Ardoyne. Unfortunately for us, he lived.”

“We?” I ask.

“My da and me. We fired about ten shots and the son of a bitch still survived,” Damon says. “Over the course of the next several months, we made several more attempts to kill PSNI.”

I interrupted, asking, “PSNI?”

“Police Service of Northern Ireland.”

“And they are British?” I ask.

“Yes. They are more like a militant group than a police force like you may be used to in the States,” he adds.

“Ok, go on.”

“In February we planted a bomb near a PSNI home, but it didn't result in any injuries. In March one of our roadside bombs exploded as an armored PSNI truck passed in Strabane. Again, no injuries, but our presence was building.”

He takes a breath and then continues, “In April, we made our first big mistake. This is when we started to believe we had someone on the inside turn. Our target was another PSNI officer, but something went amiss and the bomb was left outside the gates of a school.”

“So you think that your rat purposely left that bomb at the school?” I ask.

“Two of our guys were supposed to plant that bomb at the home of the PSNI officer. When they were walking to the house, one of the guys claimed that they were being followed. Because of this, the other guy panicked. Apparently they dropped the bomb and left it. Shit really hit the fan after that.”

“I would think so. I’ll help you any way I can, but if you all are involved in the hurting or killing of children, we’re out. I can’t condone that.”

“That bomb was never intended for any children or that school. It was a mistake. Thankfully for the kids, it was found before it ever detonated.”

“So, if one of the two guys who were supposed to drop that bomb was your suspected rat, why didn’t you deal with him then?”

“We did. He’s gone, but before he was executed for his treasonous acts against our cause, he claimed that there were more agents within our organization. He made it perfectly clear that he was not the only one involved.”

“Fuck! This is so fucked up. How do you guys live like this every day?”

“It’s our way of life. When it’s all you know, everything else seems abnormal. That’s why Balefire was sent away. We didn’t want our little brother to grow up in all this shit.”

“Damn, and I thought being a biker and living in the biker world was rough. MC life is a cakewalk compared to what you all endure on a daily basis.” I pause and then add, “Anything else?”

“Like I said, after the mistake at the school, things really began to heat up. Mam and Da got more involved in the actual attacks against the PSNI, and the attacks against us increased as well. A little over two weeks ago, an anonymous tip came in about possible traitors. We sent five agents to Dublin to fish out the alleged traitors. Mam and Da were two of the five. None of the five came back. The other three agents were found dead near the mark’s home.”

“And nobody has seen or heard from them since?”

“No. I have every man available to me digging into their whereabouts and we’ve got nothing,” Patrick says.

“I think we need to get some intel of our own,” Rebel says. “As much as I trust that these guys know what they were doing, having a fresh approach to things could make all the difference.”

“Balefire, I assure you we have exhausted every avenue. You will not find out anything that we don’t already know. Besides, you have no idea how to handle these people,” Damon says.

I say angrily, “If you think that Rebel can’t handle this, then why did you ask him to come here?”

“Because we want you and your club. He was our in to the club,” he states matter-of-factly.

Trying to let my anger subside, I stand up and walk over to my two cousins. I can tell that I intimidate them, which I find odd, especially for Damon. He’s nervous about something, but I can’t pinpoint what. I’m bigger than him, but not by much. Then again, I do have an advantage: I have a reputation that I assume has made it all the way across the pond. Why else would he want us here?

“Let me make something perfectly clear. As I said before, Rebel is my brother. He and I met the night that I avenged my father’s death and he has been a trusted and loyal member of my club since. He is my sergeant at arms and I trust him with my life. I also trust his judgment. If you want the help of my club, you remove that little brother barrier that you both seem to have and you replace it with the thought that he just might be your savior. ‘Cause without him, you don’t have my club or me. You follow?”

They don’t say a word as they look from Rebel to me. Then in unison, they nod in agreement. “Good. Now that we have that minor technicality out of the way, Rebel, why don’t you share your thoughts with your brothers?”

“I’ve been reading about everything that has happened up until their disappearance. I believe they are both still alive and I believe they are being held in Maghaberry.”

“Maghaberry?” Damon questions.

“Yeah, Maghaberry,” Rebel replies. Then he adds, “Do we still have men within the prison who are supporters of the cause?”

Damon nods. “Yeah, we do.”

“Have you reached out to them lately?”

“Nope. Like I said earlier, we have been unsure as to who we can trust within the organization. We are keeping everything tight-lipped until we can extract the traitors,” Damon replies.

Rebel looks over at me and says, “Ice, I think we need to do some extracting of our own. Don’t ya think?”

“We sure as hell do, Reb. Doc, Ryder, you in?” I ask my brothers. They’ve been quietly listening to all that has passed between the cousins and us. They nod in agreement, as I know they would.

“What are you going to do?” Damon asks.

“We’re gonna get the information we need to get this shit handled.” Just then the door opens and a particularly attractive red-headed woman walks into the house. She’s carrying a couple of bags, which appear to be groceries. Damon immediately gets up to help her. He takes the bags and then kisses her quite passionately—a little too passionately for my taste in a room full of people. She wraps her arms around him and clings to him as if her life depends on it.

Eventually the public display of affection between the Damon and the woman is over. While still wrapped in Damon’s arms, she looks over his shoulder and says, “Hello, Balefire.”

“Ciara,” he replies.