GGS: Good Gaelic Souls A Biker Saga (G.G.S) (32 page)

BOOK: GGS: Good Gaelic Souls A Biker Saga (G.G.S)
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Today she felt guilty for having been too preoccupied to share her time. But Gypsy understood, and as always she welcomed her with a neigh, nudging her with her big head, before placing it over her shoulder in a show of unconditional love and trust. Gypsy stood perfectly still while tears fell into her mane, as Stax explained why she and Da hadn't been out for a ride. Her large soulful eyes told Stax that forgiveness was unnecessary, and her soft nudges and neighs told her that she would continue to be there for her.

She didn't return to the Castle until after lunch was over, preferring the warm feel of the sun. She took much time grooming her mare and sharing her thoughts. Before she headed back, Gypsy had been caught up on everything that had taken place, and informed of what to expect in the very near future. Stax left it up to Gypsy to spread the word around the corral and to give the chickens a heads up whenever they wandered through.

After the children finished lunch, they took a trip to the library to watch movies. Most of the parents stayed with them through the first movie and then every two hours one would relieve the other, giving Cat the afternoon off. During this time, the teenagers were allowed to go outside without the smaller ones on their heels. Peacefully, they spent the afternoon working the garden, hanging out with the horses or laying out in the sun. Later, to gain extra time outside, they even offered to take the children out again before dinner.

The nurses had nothing to do, so they relaxed by starting a poker game upstairs in the Ballroom. Eventually, more games were started and Mavis was left downstairs to tend bar, while Serenity and Lee went upstairs to do the same. After a few hours, some of the women took turns, allowing the girls to enjoy the rest of the day as they chose. Serenity went to Strangler to see if they could relax in the Sauna for a bit. Della took off after lunch, leaving the kitchen in the hands of others to begin preparing dinner.  Strangler hadn't seen the Trio at breakfast, but they had kept in touch via short text messages, not bothering to elaborate on what they were up to. The guards were placed on two hour rotations again, so that everyone could have time for family and relaxation.

Strangler had spent his morning in the office pouring over the blueprints and making phone calls. He called the hospital first to check on Slacker, who was resting and doing much better. Next he called several of the local MC's, seeking new information. Nobody had heard or seen anything since the shoot out with S.W.A.T. Though not one of them expounded on their plans, they did advise that they were discussing options. After his last call, which was to Sheriff Bob, who apparently was unable to answer at the time, he resigned himself to wait for a call back. He found nothing new on the local news, the media was still replaying and speculating on the last incident. Not accustomed to having time to himself, he lit a joint to help him relax. He suprised himself when the thought of taking a nap went through his mind, but he knew that if he missed a good chance to rest, he could cost him later. There was no reason to allow himself to be at a disadvantage, so he chose to follow his instincts.

Except for his boots, he was fully dressed and snoring lightly when Stax found him upon her return from the corral. Tiptoeing to the bathroom for a quick shower, she returned and moved quietly around the bedroom gathering fresh clothes. When she attempted to put on her underwear, she heard, "Don't bother with the panties Bitch, I'll just have to rip 'em off again." Turning towards the bed, panties in hand, she saw that he was now on his side, propped up on his elbow watching her dress. "Playing opossum doesn't make you an expert on panty ripping," she chided, "That would be the Badgers job." Strangler bared his teeth and jumped off the bed, "Badger wants Beaver," he snarled as he took her by the waist and pulled him to her, "Badger wants Beaver, now!" So went the next hour or so in the Presidential suite.

Once the children had been brought in, the adults teamed up and went outside for target practice. Everyone who had ever fired a shot, including the teens, were required to practice. Even Lee went out with Serenity and took her turn. At first, she wanted no part in carrying a firearm, "I was basically forced to come here for my own protection, not to kill people." She whined to Serenity. "Really?" Serenity growled back at her, "What would do then, if you found yourself to be the only one standing between a gunman and the children? Will you leave those helpless little souls to the mercy of killers?" Seeing it from this perpective, Lee gave it further consideration, and decided to take a few practice shots. She actually turned out to be a much better shot than she had previously stated. She contributed this to the fact that the only gun she had ever shot was her brothers old rifle. She actually enjoyed herself and it was apparent to Twitch, that in time, she could be a very good marksmen.

Once he was back in the office, Strangler called the new prospect Mac, in for a personal meeting, to allow himself the opportunity to see how the man held himself without an audience. Strangler couldn't abide false pride, and he could see right through a person who was trying to build themselves up to impress another. When Mac entered the office, Strangler offered him a drink. Mac declined, explaining, "I finally have a chance to speak with you, and I want to be clear headed. I'm sure that I won't get another chance like this for awhile with all that is going on." Strangler poured himself a drink and looked Mac in the eye, "Do you drink at all? And if so, how well do you think you hold your liquor?" Mac answered both questions without blinking, "Yes, I do and I hold my liquor like a Scottsman, to the best of my ability, until I lose my ability."

"Spoken like a true Scott," Strangler said as he poured a second drink and slid it over to Mac. "Then I suppose one drink in the middle of the day wouldn't cause a true Scottsman to fall down. Relax and have one with me, while we get down to business." Mac accepted the glass without comment and took a drink, "Where do you want to start?" He asked, sitting the glass down. Strangler pointed to the middle chair on the other side of his desk, "Have a seat Mac." Both men took a seat and Strangler started the conversation.

"Other than your family and military background, what else about yourself do you think I need to know immediately? And by that I mean, what exactly do you have to bring to the table in regards to what we are dealing with? Anything less can wait for better times." Strangler took a drink, waiting for his reply. Mac didn't hesitate before answering, "I'm involved with of a group of people, that could be very helpful with the issue at hand. I can potentially bring in a large number of armed men, who are experienced in every aspect of dispute that you can imagine. Men who believe in protecting their freedom and their neighbors freedom, along with their preferred way of life. Like you, they are not racist, radicals, or vigilantes. They are Americans who refuse to lay down their rights or their firearms and just walk away when someone else swoops in to take what they have earned."

Mac couldn't read his face, but he had his attention. He waited to see if Strangler was interested enough to encourage him to continue. Strangler wasn't about to jump into anything, but if another option was on the table, he was willing to exam it. "Exactly, what would they want in return and why would they be interested in helping us? Our issue has nothing to do with politcs or religion. What could they gain by putting their lives on the line for a group of Gaelic Biker Survivalist? Make me understand Mac. Tell me, exactly what does 'a large number' mean, and what would they do when they got here? After you have answered those questions, then you can tell me why you are interested in joining the G.G.S, when you are already involved with this organization. We don't exactly split our allegience around here." Strangler paused and looked at his watch, "I'm listening."

"For the sake of time," Mac started," I will tell you the highlights, feel free to ask me to elaborate at any point." Taking another drink, he began, " This is not a particular group of people, it is many individuals from every walk of life. All of them have been involved in some sort of conflict where someone or some group has forcefully tried to attain what was theirs, in some fashion. It could be a war between neighbors, a local land dispute, big business trying to push someone out, or even a battle for their rights as land owners against the government. It's not specific, there are no guidelines, it's about being just. Some of them are former police, ex- military, self-trained marksmen, and some are basic survivalist. We are talking members of the general public. They are not involved in politics, but they won't back down from it either. Thanks to word-of-mouth, the media and technology like the internet, they find and support each other. Citizens protecting each other from invasive forces. If a man chooses to sell his property or walk-away and give up, that is his choice. But if he says no, and someone tries to force him out, or threatens him, that's different. These people believe that if a man chooses to protect and defend what is rightfully his, he should not have to stand alone. Together, they rally around him to turn back the invaders, no matter how long it takes or how dangerous the situation may become. It's a circling of the wagons. The bad guys come in and find themselves out numbered. Eventually when enough damage is done, the invaders come to realize that what they were after, is no longer worth the cost or the publicity that follows."

Seeing that Strangler was listening, but showing no sign that he had yet heard everything that he needed to hear, Mac continued. "Everyone of them are land owners and they will not accept payment. They only ask, that when a force comes against one of them, and they need to call on you, that you will stand up and return the support. In your case, since so many will be needed here, you would need to send several to represent you. Mavis and I would count as the first two. We would be an asset to you in the event they request your assistance, as we are both willing to be the first two out the door to stand in support of others. As far as numbers, that could range from hundreds to thousands. How many will come, depends on the need itself. If you were defending your personal home or business, they might start by sending fifty or a hundred. Once I tell them whats happening here and what you need defended, that number would rise dramatically." He stopped and took a drink.

Strangler still said nothing, so he continued. "I am sure, that you have already been informed as to what happened to my wife. I was not here to protect her, but since my return, I am proud to say, she shoots almost as good as I do now. As a matter of fact, she is up for target practice today if you would like to see what she can do. It is because of what happened, that I ran into a member of this group. Long story short, after he found out what happened to my wife while I was away protecting our country, believing that my country was protecting my family, he opened up to me about the group that he was involved in. The word organization, should not be used to describe them. It's simply a group of like minded individual citizens. They do not have a public face, or name. I guess if you are going to call them anything, call them Supporters."

Mac finished what was left in his glass before he answered the last question. "As for why we want to be members of the G.G.S., that might take a minute, and I would not turn down another drink before I begin to answer that question." Strangler nodded at the bottle, and Mac poured himself a drink, no more and no less than the one handed to him earlier. Strangler made note of the fact that he had paid attention to such a small detail. What he had learned about him before today had come from Stax, his Officers, and the Nurses. So far, it was all good stuff.  He was well above average on the intelligence scale, the military would have immediately jumped on that, but there was more to this man and Strangler felt that it would be well worth the time to hear more detail about him.

"Take your time, no need to ask if you want another." He said, pushing his own empty glass towards the prospect. Mac repeated the same drink in measure and pushed it back across the desk. Mac took a long drink before he began, "I chose to join the military before I met my wife. I was in basic training and still wet behind the ears. They came to me at school, and I believed everything they told me. I felt that I could make a career out of it and secure my future.

He took another drink, "Neither of us have family to rely on, I was raised by foster homes and she was a smart child from a bad home.
A
t 16 she ran away after being molested by her mother's fourth husband. She lived on the streets until she was spotted dumpster diving by a man who owned the bar that rented the dumpster. After feeding her and listening to her story, he took her in and gave her a job in the kitchen. He didn't try anything with her, he just allowed her to live in a travel trailer in his backyard until she turned of age. On her 18th birthday he tried to force himself on her, she took what little money she had and left. She needed money fast, what little she had couldn't keep her in a cheap motel for long. During that time, I had left for the military right out of high school and was in basic training. She was now working as a dancer in a night club near the base, and that's where we met. We had alot in common, we spoke the same language you might say. Neither of us had ever known a real home, and we both needed to be loved. We just clicked. We were married within a few weeks and then after graduating boot camp, I was sent up north. She found out she was pregnant and I was deployed before our first son was born. That's when we decided to choose to live on base. It seemed to work, we were a growing family, but I was always gone. After we had our second son, I was sent out on a two year deployment, which ended up being four years. But I always felt that my family couldn't be in a safer environment. She kept telling me that everything would be fine and by the time the kids really needed a father around, I would be back in their lives. It was a good plan, and we thought we had it all worked out."

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