Tank POV
Fixer had taken pictures with her phone. I hadn’t paid that much attention at the time, but the one she managed to capture was on the wall, and it was absolutely fantastic. It caught the three of them in what I would call ‘a picture-perfect moment”.
Prez had one arm over Stick’s back, the other holding Stick’s hand. Sticks was holding the baby,
lost in the sea of blanket, one hand, which was the one Prez’s hand, had over hers, was holding
open the blanket to reveal the tiny face of Max, and the baby was fast asleep, mother and father, looking down with such love, joy, and peace.
Prez sucked in a breath when he saw it, but then he called me away from the girls to talk. I didn’t want to lose that happy moment, but I guess I can’t always get what I want in life.
Prez sat on the lounge chair, giving me the impression that this was a catch-up, and not a big report. He was going about this in a more casual way. Guess he doesn’t want to lose his happy zone either, but the club comes first.
“Tell me what happened, and where the men are now,” Prez asked, offering me a smile. He looked the most relaxed I had seen him in a long while.
I told him about how the men took down the men, and it was perfect, that the Jones gang had little contact, and made it easier for us to pick a nice, quiet spot out of town to meet up. To the average person, it would appear the gang was returning home. Good for us, bad for them.
“They are spending the night tied to the chair in the cells, and have asked Stephen to put his men
on guard duty, because I don’t trust our guys, not that they are spies, but the need to get revenge might be high enough for them to go in and start punching, the men didn’t like having to wait till tomorrow, to get more answers, and blood. The bikes are at the warehouse in containers, or should be, haven’t gone to the warehouse to confirm, guess back to trust, and at the moment I have little for our club, and that sounds bad, I know. I finished my report and waited for Prez to digest it before asking questions.
He took his time before smiling and nodding.
“Good, tell me what you know about Sticks’ trip to the hospital. Sticks said something about her first chopper ride.” His smile was bright, his eyes dancing with mirth.
I told him as much as I could remember: that Fixer had informed me, and how well the pilot flew and handled the whole situation. The whole team came together to bring about your safety in the world and Sticks’ health.
“I need to meet this, Savage. What do you know about him?” He asked, and here we go.
“That was up for debate, we know from his file that he just got out of service, he had been captive by the enemy, and made it home, he lost part of his team, and had spent about a week in hospital, on his return, was medically discharged, and joined Dirks team, like many that leave the service do, find a job with like-minded people.” I started, wondering whether I should mention our belief.
“What’s the catch? I can see there was something else.” That’s my good friend talking now, not the Prez, we’ve been together since birth, more or less, through thick and thin, guess we know each other well.



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