refocus on Bronco, Wyatt refuses to look away. I continue to ignore him. Conor treated me real nice today, and I suspect he’ll be the man in charge soon. Caring about Wyatt’s opinion isn’t something I have to pretend to do.
“John Marks might have other people in Elko or in the Village,” Bronco continues. “We don’t know what they’re planning. We could be walking into an ambush.”
“So, is the plan to pass around and fuck one of their bitches to make things square?” Wyatt sneers, bringing up a sore spot for our president from a few years back.
Sighing, Bronco glances at me. “If he speaks up again before I’m finished, punch him in the face.”
My president is well aware of how these men are terrified of his giant. My fist is as big as most of their fucking heads. Not Hoagie’s moon-shaped one, though.
“The Killing Joes like to set up booby traps,” Conor says, and Wyatt opens his mouth to complain about how his cousin gets to speak. Then the blond shithead remembers my fist and closes his trap. “Drummer almost lost a leg when we hit one of their drug houses. Let’s assume they’ve set up a few in the Village.”
Crossing his arms, Lowell adds, “But they’re limited to how much they can protect or patrol. The area is too big, and there are plenty of weak spots in the fencing running around the Village.”
Bronco looks over the men and explains, “We know the Killing Joes aren’t at any local hotels within twenty miles. They might be shacked up with a chick or sleeping in a tent in the woods. That’s why we’ll bait them with Conor’s idea.”
His nephew nods. “The problem with attacking the Village is that we only want to kill John Marks and his allies while avoiding the deaths of a shit-ton of civilians.”
“Do we know Marks is in the Village?” Rooster asks.
“He was there the night those assholes shot at Anders. Based on the way Gunther behaved yesterday,” Bronco answers, “Marks is still in the Village. Sneaking around Elko won’t be easy now. We have everyone in town looking for Marks. Let’s assume he’s there and in communication with the Killing Joes.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Rooster asks after his son—Wyatt—gets antsy.
“We use drones,” Bronco says and gestures for Conor to continue.
After his nephew explains the plan, I notice Wyatt wanting to bitch. A few other guys seem unsure, too. Bronco’s been in charge for too long to remain blind to their signals.
Trying to settle them down, he says, “A week ago, we didn’t know about Marks or the Killing Joes. Going in half-assed will get people killed. Maybe some of us. Now, I know a few of you might like to catch a bullet just to avoid dealing with your woman. Personally, I like my wife and would prefer to see my kids grow up.”
Squirming around in his chair and breathing heavy, Wyatt can barely keep his mouth shut now. He always acts like an ill-tempered child rather than a guy prepared to lead.
However, Wyatt keeps his mouth shut. No way has he forgotten how my hand felt wrapped around his throat.
“We have the chance to clear out two enemies at one time,” Bronco continues. “The Killing Joes never put their club back together. These assholes are mercenaries now. They have no loyalty to Marks, and he doesn’t play well with others. Neither side is coherent enough to take us down, but that doesn’t mean one of us can’t end up buried.”
“What happens when Marks and the Killing Joes are dead?” Rooster asks.
“Then we pick a new leader for the Volkshalberd,” Conor says, seeming to startle Bronco with this idea. “The Village needs to fall under our control. We’ll claim we’re doing them a favor after Marks destroyed our trust. In reality, the club can’t worry they’ll crown a new madman to run the place.”
Though Bronco might approve of this plan, he’s on edge now. His nephew is acting like the man in charge. Wyatt notices the shift in mood and stops fidgeting. A smug grin takes over his face.
“The Killing Joes,” I say, drawing everyone’s attention away from Bronco and Conor, “are muscle. That’s it. They aren’t coming up with strategy. They just want money and a shot at punishing the Executioners. Don’t waste time viewing them as a threat like the Reapers. They’re no more than trigger-happy clowns.”
“Do you think we could hit the Village from the back, where Pixie slipped out and