The leather clad biker gang raced down the roads towards the Stockton dockyards where the Chinese guns where being guarded by patch member West. Allesandro, Happy and Chibbs pushed to keep up with Jax as he sped around corners and down residential streets at full throttle. Jax's determination to take out Lin blinded him with rage.

Jax killed the engine of his bike as he rolled to a stop in front of the warehouse. He gave a passing glance over at Allesandro and nodded to the Mexican man to keep watch. Jax and the rest of the Sons entered the warehouse. Turning the corner everyone stopped dead in their tracks. Blood seeped from the wooden crate where West's body had been stuffed.

"Fuck! Lin did this! Fuck!" Jax's bellow echoed through the warehouse and bounced off empty crates, where the guns used to stored. "We need to find out who sold us out to Lin, after I put a bullet in the back of his skull!"

Jax pulled the Scottish man with the deep facial scars and salt and pepper hair aside. "Do as much damage control as you can. Get this under control until I get a location on Lin... I need to time to find his house."

"Aye, I'll do my best," Chibbs replied in his deep accent, "alright lets get this mess cleaned up." He nodded towards the others as Jax lit a cigarette as he made his way outside.

Jax sat on his Harley, leaving the clean up to the others. He inhaled the smooth taste while forcing himself to calm down. Lin had already taken so much from him it was too hard to keep the anger under control. He wanted nothing more than to hunt that Chinese piece of shit down and put a bullet in the back of his skull. With a low growl Jax tossed his smoke aside, kicked his bike back to life and let the warehouse fade behind him, speeding passed the grey sedan parked at the opening of the dockyard.

X

"I promise you, brown had no part in this retaliation. If there is anything Jax or the Sons need let us know. We will gladly take yellow out the picture." Marcus reassured the two men standing in front of him, the dark curly haired man in his cut and the Mexican escort parlor owner both looking unimpressed.

Tig grinned and glanced over at Nero, "That's good to know, yellow's starting to forget their place in the pecking order."

"Hey, hey now, lets wait and see what Jax wants to happen." Nero interjected.

"We all know this is going down tonight, just be ready." Tig ordered while he placed his sunglasses back on his eyes as he walked back towards Nero's car.

"Jax is hurting right now, between losing Tara and the attacks on the club. He needs time to clear is head before he does something stupid." Nero reminded, he always seemed to be the voice of reason.

"The longer we wait to do this, the more time Lin has to plan another attack." Tig pointed out as he straddled his bike. "Hey I'll catch up, there's something I need to do." Without waiting for Nero's reply Tig bought his Harley to life and sped away.

"Yeah sure!" Nero called out after him as the cloud of dust settled.

X

Dexter rolled his car to the stop in front of Teller-Marrow Automotive. He took a moment to take in his surroundings. The place was deceiving, mechanics tinkered away on cars and trucks, most of the work bays were left open; it looked like nothing more then a simple auto repair shop. It also doubled as the headquarters for the Sons.

He pulled his car up the nearest bay door. Leaving the keys in he hopped out as a slightly older man with grey hair and blue eyes, in dirty grease covered coveralls approached.

"Hi, Dexter," he offered his hand to the man, "just need an oil change and a check up." He added.

"Mark and I can help you with that, it'll be about a 40 minute wait if that's okay. I just gotta finish up this car then I'll roll yours in. If that works leave the keys in it and you can take off or wait here, there's coffee in the office."

"Sounds good, I'll wait here if you don't mind and do you have a bathroom I could use by any chance?" Dexter inquired innocently with a flash of his decieving smile.

Mark didn't even miss a beat, "yeah head through those doors, hang a left, it's the third door on the right." Dexter's gaze followed the direction Mark's slender finger was pointing.

"Thanks." Dexter turned on his heel and headed into the depths of the biker gang's club house. He opened every door he passed. After shutting the door he would glance around quickly before opening the next. He was interested in only one thing, and it didn't take him long to find it. Employee records for TM Automotive; with the names and addresses for every member of the Sons, including the ones that had never been arrested by police. He quickly took snap shots of every file with his camera phone. Replacing each file he slipped back out to the hallway and into the office to wait for his car.

X

He cased the house three times to make sure no one was home before parking his car. The back yard was big with a high fence, making slipping in and out without being spotted by neighbours a simple task. Once he slithered into the backyard he make quick work of picking the lock on the back door. In only seconds it swung open revealing the dark entrance way. Dexter closed the door behind him and began his routine. He gave himself a tour, mapping out the layout and rooms. The guest bedroom was empty and the prefect kill room.

He searched through paperwork, pictures and drawers throughout the house. Once he had covered every inch of the home and truly had a feel for the homeowner he began to set up the kill room. Slipping out to his car he bought in all the tools he would need. He spent most of the night hanging plastic sheeting. Whoever said being a serial killer was easy never stuffed a massive oak kitchen table up a flight of stairs.

He just finished putting the final touches into his beautifully displayed kill room when the roar of a motorcycle pulling up signalled it was time for the fun to begin.

Dexter lurked in the shadows behind the front door he was ready and waiting.

The sandy brown haired man with the MC cut, thin frame and dishevelled appearance entered through the front door.

"What the fuck!?" He exclaimed as he flicked on the light and noticed his table was missing. Suddenly an arm reached out from nowhere and wrapped around his neck. He struggled against the grasp but the pinch on the side of his neck had him feeling tired and groggy before everything went black.

"Welcome back, George."

The sound of his name bought Ratboy back to reality. It took him only seconds to realize he plastic wrapped to his missing kitchen table.

"Who are you? What do you want from me!" He screamed as he tried to fight against his bindings.

"There's a lot of things I want from you. My dark passenger needs to be satisfied and you need to be punished for all the innocent lives that have suffered at your hands." Dexter taunted. He circled his prey with the razor sharp blade in his hands.

"What? No. I was only following orders. I never wanted to hurt anyone," cried Ratboy, "I swear! Just please let me go. I won't tell anyone, not even the club."

"It's far to late for that, look around at the faces on the walls. Everyone here has suffered and died at the hands of you and your club... Did you accept their cries for mercy?" Dexter challenged harshly. His dark passenger could wait no longer. With a quick slice of blade across Ratboy's cheek he placed the blood on the slide.

Dexter stood over him and plunged the blade deep into the centre of chest finally silenced the bikers pleas for mercy.

"One down...," murmured Dexter as he started to dismember the first of many Sons.

X

Who will be the next to die? Comment and let me know. And keep checking back for Chapter 4.