"Alright girls," Dee spoke, her low voice cutting the tension, "Here they come." She raised a hand, her long, pointed, black fingernails hooking over the arm of her aviators, pulling them down so that she could peer over the tops. She nodded in the direction that they were already focused on, indicating where their targets would be approaching from.
Rocco felt her nerves ignite with adrenaline, the rush threatening to propel her forward. She held her position, though, steadying her breath under the cover of the tree line. Always the soldier, she was never one to jump the gun.
"Remember," Dee continued, her commanding voice no louder than a whisper but still holding enough weight to demand authority, "The van is the target, that's where the cargo is." She reached down to start up her bike, the engine humming to life. The modified exhaust created a low purr, the rumble low and quiet enough to avoid detection. "Don't hurt anyone too badly," She added, throwing a smirk Taz's way, "We're here to show them what we can do. We want allies, not enemies." Taz rolled her eyes, the blonde clearly not very impressed that she wasn't allowed to maim anyone.
The four remaining women started their bikes in order, going down the line one at a time so that they didn't make a noticeable sound. They'd all been modified in the same way, so the five bikes purred with a deep, low rumble as opposed to the usual roar of Harley engines.
"How many, Roc?" Bandit asked, her voice barely audible. She leaned over her Harley, squinting as if she'd be able to see around the corner.
Rocco tore her dark eyes away from the exact point where she knew she'd catch the first glimpse of their mark, having already scoped out their expected route from a little ways down the road. "Five." She spoke flatly, her tone completely void of any emotion. Her focus was solely on the mission ahead, so everything else, like manners and courtesy, took a backseat. "Three in front, two behind."
She paused for a moment, raising a brow in the direction of her president, her next words meant for the slightly older woman. "Some big dudes, Pres." She added, questioning Dee's plan. Dee nodded in response, a smirk tugging at her perfectly plumped lips.
"What's the matter, Roc?" She asked, raising her own impossibly sharp brow in return, "Afraid of the big bad bikers?" She taunted, earning her an irritated eye roll and a raised middle finger from her stone-faced Road Captain. Rocco opened her mouth to retort, but shut it quickly when she noticed Bandit nodding in the direction that her gaze had been previously attached.
She watched, holding her breath and narrowing her eyes as the sunlight caught the first bike, the gleam on the chrome blinding for a moment as the roar of the engines drifted toward them where they hid in the trees. She threw each of her companions a glance before leaning over her bike, her slender frame matching the contours of the vehicle perfectly, her eyes glued to the front wheel of the bike she was watching, waiting for it to hit her marker.
Once that front tire passed the signpost she'd picked out, Rocco revved her engine, releasing her brake and propelling her bike from the cover of the trees. The rest of the women followed in a 'v' formation, all of them focused on the task at hand. Rocco nodded to Bandit, who, along with Taz, slowed their bikes and changed course to Rocco's left to intercept the two riders behind the van. Mona and Dee did the same to Rocco's right, heading for the two riders in front of the van, who Rocco assumed were the higher ranking members of the club.
Rocco's own target was the other rider in front, the plan being to take down the riders first. Take away the protection, and then chase the loot. She leaned close to her bike, her skin almost touching the warmed metal of the fuel tank as she took a deep breath, her eyes glued to her target.
He'd been the first to spot their ambush, and Rocco could already tell he was beginning to formulate his own plan of defense. She felt her lips twist into a smirk. Clearly, she'd picked a worthy opponent, and she loved nothing more than a challenge.
Had she paid attention to her VP, she'd have seen Mona jam a metal rod between the spokes of one of the bikes' front wheel, sending the rider hurtling over his handlebars and to the ground with a string of curses and snarls before she sped off to join Dee on taking down who Rocco assumed was the President of the MC.
But her mind was fixed on her prey and she narrowed her eyes further as it seemed the tattooed man was going to call her bluff. She huffed when it appeared he wasn't going to dodge her, and she swerved between his bike and the van and rode around to the back of the vehicle. She re-routed to come back around the van to her earlier position, going over 'plan B' in her mind as she did.
Bandit had made short work of the smaller biker behind the van, who was off in the distance trying to pick up his bike while Bandit caught up to Taz, who seemed to be having a little more trouble with the other. The guy was easily the biggest of all of them, and was currently riding furiously to catch up to Taz as well. Rocco noticed something glinting in the sunlight on his leg, and it took her a moment to process that it was Taz's favorite small hunting knife sticking out of the man's thigh. She sighed, her instinct to reprimand Taz, but she had a target that was getting away, so she had to let the responsibility fall to Bandit as she sped past the three of them, her focus shifting back to her own mark.
Unfortunately for her, the heavily tattooed biker had expected her to return, and his foot shot out as she neared him again to kick at her front wheel. She pulled her handlebars in the opposite direction to try to regain her balance, but she'd slowed a little while her concentration was pulled, meaning the jolt sent her crashing into the side of the van. She jerked the bike the other way, trying desperately to regain her control when her bike skidded out from underneath her, sending her flying to the tarmac and the bike skidding down the road. She caught the triumphant look on the guy's face as she sat up, panting and wiping at the blood from the cut in her lip she'd just acquired.
Snarling, she jumped up, checked herself over to make sure nothing was broken and jogged over to her bike, grabbing it and pulling it up quickly. She watched her opponent turn his attention to his President, who was currently in a game of chase with her own, as she swung her leg back over her bike, revving the engine and beginning her pursuit again.
With only three of them left unshaken, they were outnumbered by the girls, so Rocco shifted her focus to the van carrying their now unprotected cargo. She pulled up alongside the back tire, keeping the driver's pace and pulling out a small pocket knife, hitting the tire a few times before falling back to do the other side at the front. She hung back again, whistling loudly for Taz to come and help her guard their loot as the van slowed to a stop.
The driver got out as she stopped her bike, climbing off and kicking down the kickstand as she dug in her pocket for her phone.
"I don't think so." The driver snapped, though the skinny guy with the crazy eyes looked a little nervous as he raised his gun. Rocco reached into her jacket to pull her own from its holster in return, taking advantage of the slight falter of the man as he realized she was female. She hit his wrist with the grip of her gun, knocking his to the ground while her other arm whipped up to grasp his still outstretched arm. She twisted his arm, forcing him to his knees facing away from her as the smaller man that Bandit had chased down caught them up.
"Don't even think about it," She barked as he reached for his gun, and she pressed the barrel of her own against the van driver's temple. "Put it on the ground." She ordered as Taz reached them, jumping off her bike and aiming her gun at the newcomer. Rocco nodded her head toward him as he complied, silently telling Taz to bring him over to be held captive as well. She set her gaze toward the rest of the ambush as she pulled out her phone, punching the speed dial number she'd set up for Ringo.
After a couple of seconds, she heard the familiar quiet purr of muffled Harley exhausts, signalling that their backup was on the way to guard the van. She whistled again, loud enough this time for Dee and Mona to hear, the two of them circling back around to come over to where they had stopped the van at the side of the road, abandoning their chase for now.
The roar of an engine caught Rocco's attention, and she looked around to see the man that Mona had ran off his bike heading for their group, his face contorted with rage and his wild curls bouncing around underneath his helmet as he stomped toward them, gun raised.
"You're outnumbered, Sweetie." Ringo's sweet voice called out as she, Mykie, Beau and the twins surrounded the guy, who kept his gun trained on Rocco regardless. Rocco fought the urge to shudder under the man's animalistic gaze. She knew he'd have no reservations about shooting her dead right there and then. Luckily for her, he didn't get the chance, because his own President joined the group, followed by Dee and Mona, the three of them getting off their bikes to join the altercation.
"What the bloody hell is all this?" The Pres demanded, his accent taking Rocco off guard almost as much as the scars on his cheeks.
"Put your guns down, Ladies." Dee instructed, ignoring the President's question. She turned her attention toward Rocco and Taz, who still had the driver and the smaller guy on their knees. "Let them up. We're not here to fight." She spoke, to which they both lowered their guns, taking a step away from the men and allowing them to re-join their own club.
The curly haired VP spoke then, fury lacing his tone and his gun still raised, though this time he swung it around to aim at Dee instead, deducing she was in charge. "Could've fooled me." He seethed, looking to his President, who had a brow raised at Dee.
"What are ye here for?" He asked, his tone exasperated more than anything else. Clearly, the man didn't have time for this. "And who decided that comin' to Charmin' and challengin' us was a great idea?" He added, his voice filled with sarcasm.
Dee was completely unfazed by the angry VP, and she focused her words solely on the President. "Just wanted to get your attention, Pres." She said, not menacingly, but not sweetly, either. "I heard that's a hard thing to do nowadays." She commented, irritating the guy, who obviously already had quite a lot on his plate.
"Well," He answered, taking a step toward Dee to close the gap between them, causing Rocco to stiffen a little at his menacing gait, "Ye got it." He held her stare for a moment, his dark eyes burning into her aviators. "Now what do ye want?" Dee's lips twisted into a tiny smirk, and she lowered her glasses, her eyes travelling the length of the man's body and back again before answering. She dragged the action out, as if she was purposely trying to take up his time.
"A sit down." She said simply. "We want to work with you." She turned her attention toward the VP for a moment, narrowing her eyes as she nodded in his direction. "Make some friends." She added, chuckling a little. The VP gave her a snarl in return, but didn't get a chance to retort before she was speaking again. "You've seen what we can do, though this wasn't our best work," She said, almost approvingly, "You guys are tougher than your reputation suggests, if that's possible." She added, her words serving to show the man that she was in admiration of his club. "We want to work with you." She repeated with a shrug, letting the offer hang between them.
Rocco watched the President mull over Dee's request, working out what was in it for his club, no doubt. While he was thinking, her gaze wandered, and she caught the eye of her tattooed opponent from earlier. He narrowed his eyes at her, showing her that he was probably going to hold a grudge. Rocco was good at grudges, so the thought that she'd gotten under his skin made her smirk.
"Alright," The Scottish President spoke finally, regaining Rocco's attention. "I'll give ye yer meetin', but only because ya all had the balls to show me how big yer hypothetical dicks are." Dee's lips curled into a triumphant smile, and she stuck her hand out to shake on it. "Come by the ice cream parlor in town, tomorrow afternoon." He told her, to which she nodded, letting his hand go.
"Thanks for your time, Pres." She said, putting emphasis on the last word, challenging again. The scot gave her a nod, though his expression told Rocco he was debating whether Dee was trustworthy or not.
"Successful mission." Dee said as she returned to her club, her long half-black-half-white hair trailing behind her as she spun around. The Scotsman turned to return to his own club, only stopped by his VP's exclamation.
"What about the van?" He huffed, irritated that his President had given into the demands of their attackers.
Rocco piped up again, then. "You carry a tire pump?" She asked, nodding toward the back doors of the van. The VP nodded slightly, still glaring. "I only did a couple of small punctures," She went on, her eyes flickering toward the tattooed man, whose steely gaze was frightening her far more than the rage filled VP, "We can patch it up in no time." She nodded to Mykie, who had already produced the small puncture kit from her saddlebag.
"Of course, we'll cover the cost of the new tires." Dee added, earning an approving nod from the Scot, much to the annoyance of the VP.
"We'll see ya tomorrow," The President spoke, lighting a cigarette as the girls got to work repairing the tires. "Come on, Tigger." He addressed his VP, calling him over to their group of Harleys parked at the side of the road to wait while the girls repaired their van.