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Deaf Boy Handed a Biker a Note: 'Those Men Are Following Me' — What the Hells Angels Did Next — Transcript

by Iron Rebels · 4,485 words · 813 segments · language en · Watch on YouTube

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0:00Written in frantic, shaky ink, the
0:02message on the grease-stained napkin was
0:05about to turn a quiet Sunday morning
0:07into a brutal war zone.
0:10It read, "Those men are following me."
0:13Help. The man staring down at this
0:15desperate plea wasn't a cop. He was a
0:18patched Hell's Angel.
0:21The Mojave Desert in mid-July does not
0:23forgive.
0:25By 10:00 in the morning, the heat
0:27radiating off Highway 40 is enough to
0:30warp the horizon into a watery,
0:32shimmering mirage. At the edge of this
0:35desolate stretch, parked in a neat,
0:37gleaming diagonal line outside the Rusty
0:40Pan Diner, sat eight Harley-Davidson
0:43motorcycles.
0:45Inside the air conditioning rattled
0:47violently, struggling to cool the men
0:50occupying the four back booths. They
0:52wore heavy leather cuts, the iconic
0:55winged death's head patch spanning their
0:57backs with the bottom rocker proudly
1:00displaying their territory.
1:02These were the Hell's Angels. Riley
1:05Brick Dempsey, the chapter's sergeant at
1:07arms, sat at the head of the largest
1:10table nursing a black coffee that tasted
1:13like burnt copper.
1:15At 46, Brick was a monolith of a man,
1:18his arms sleeved in faded ink, a thick,
1:22graying beard obscuring a jawline that
1:25had seen its fair share of pavement and
1:27brass knuckles. Beside him sat Dave Bear
1:30Callahan, a man whose nickname was an
1:33understatement, and Tommy Ghost Jenkins,
1:36a younger, wire-thin rider with sharp
1:39eyes and a reputation for never missing
1:42a detail.
1:43It was a routine Sunday run, nothing but
1:46open road, the roar of V-twin engines,
1:50and the promise of a cold beer at the
1:51end of the line.
1:53But the desert has a way of throwing
1:55things in your path when you least
1:57expect it.
1:59The chime above the diner's glass door
2:01jingled weakly. Brick didn't look up
2:03immediately. He was busy listening to
2:06Bear complain about a slipping clutch
2:08cable.
2:09But Ghost did.
2:11Ghost stopped chewing his toast, his
2:14eyes locking onto the entrance.
2:16"Hey."
2:17Ghost muttered, tapping the laminate
2:19table.
2:21"Look at this kid."
2:22Brick shifted his gaze. Standing just
2:25inside the doorway was a boy who
2:27couldn't have been older than 10.
2:30He was a mess. His oversized denim
2:33jacket was covered in red dirt. His
2:35jeans were torn at the knees, and a dark
2:38fresh bruise painted the left side of
2:40his jaw.
2:41He was gasping for air, his chest
2:44heaving as if he had just run a marathon
2:46in the blistering heat.
2:49He looked around the diner, his eyes
2:51wide and frantic, like a cornered animal
2:53looking for a hole to crawl into.
2:56The waitress, an older woman named
2:58Betty, who had known the bikers for
3:00years, stepped out from behind the
3:02counter. "Honey, you okay? Where are
3:05your parents?"
3:07The boy didn't answer.
3:08He didn't even look at her.
3:10His eyes were locked onto the window,
3:12staring out at the empty highway.
3:15Then he moved.
3:16He didn't go to Betty.
3:18He bypassed the empty booths at the
3:20front and made a beeline straight for
3:23the back of the diner.
3:25Straight for a table full of imposing
3:27heavily tattooed outlaws.
3:29Bear shifted his massive frame,
3:31chuckling a low rumbling sound.
3:34"Well, look here. Think the kid wants an
3:36autograph."
3:38The boy didn't stop until he collided
3:40right into Brick's booth.
3:42He stood there, his small hands
3:45trembling, staring directly into Brick's
3:47cold, hardened eyes.
3:50"You lost, kid?"
3:52Brick asked, his voice a deep, gravelly
3:54baritone.
3:56The boy didn't speak.
3:58Instead, he frantically tapped his own
3:59ears, then shook his head vigorously.
4:02He pointed to his mouth and shook his
4:04head again.
4:06He's deaf.
4:07Ghost said softly, sitting up
4:10straighter.
4:11And mute, maybe.
4:13The boy nodded frantically at Ghost,
4:15relief washing over his bruised face
4:18that someone had understood.
4:20Then he reached into his jacket pocket.
4:23Bear instinctively tensed a hand,
4:25dropping beneath the table, but Brick
4:27held up a finger, signaling him to wait.
4:31The boy pulled out a crumpled,
4:32grease-stained paper napkin and a cheap
4:35blue ballpoint pen.
4:37He slammed it onto the table right next
4:39to Brick's coffee mug. With a trembling
4:41hand, he scribbled frantically for a few
4:44seconds, the pen tearing through the
4:45thin paper.
4:47He pushed it toward Brick and took a
4:49step back, grabbing the edge of Brick's
4:51heavy leather vest, pulling himself
4:53halfway behind the biker's massive
4:56frame.
4:57Brick looked down at the napkin.
5:00Those men are following me.
5:02Help.
5:03Brick stared at the crooked handwriting.
5:06He had lived a life of violence,
5:08loyalty, and rigid codes. The Hells
5:11Angels were not a charity organization,
5:14and they certainly weren't the police.
5:17They handled their own business and
5:19expected the rest of the world to handle
5:21theirs.
5:22But the sheer, unadulterated terror
5:24radiating from the small frame clinging
5:27to his leather cut stirred something
5:30deeply buried in the sergeant-at-arms.
5:32Before Brick could process his next
5:34move, the sound of heavy tires crunching
5:37on the gravel parking lot cut through
5:39the diner's rattling AC. Ghost leaned
5:42over, peering out the grease-smudged
5:44window.
5:45Black Chevy Tahoe just pulled up. Heavy
5:48tint, government plates maybe or fakes.
5:52Brick turned his head.
5:53Through the glass he saw the SUV idle
5:56menacingly next to their row of Harleys.
5:59The doors opened. Two men stepped out.
6:02They didn't look like locals. They wore
6:04slate gray tactical pants, expensive
6:07hiking boots, and dark polo shirts that
6:10stretched tightly across muscular
6:12frames. They were clean-cut, wearing
6:14dark sunglasses, and moved with a rigid
6:17military precision.
6:19The boy peeked around Brick's shoulder,
6:21saw the men, and let out a sharp choked
6:24gasp, the first sound he had made.
6:28He buried his face into the back of
6:30Brick's leather vest, his small fingers
6:33twisting into the heavy fabric so hard
6:35his knuckles turned white.
6:38Well,
6:39Brick rumbled slowly, rising to his
6:41feet, a towering 6'4" wall of muscle and
6:45leather.
6:46Looks like breakfast is over.
6:48The diner door opened, the weak chime
6:50echoing loudly in the sudden suffocating
6:53silence of the room.
6:55The two men stepped inside. The air in
6:57the Rusty Pan instantly shifted. Every
7:00patron in the front booths suddenly
7:02found their eggs fascinating.
7:05Betty the waitress took one look at the
7:06men and slowly backed into the kitchen,
7:09letting the swinging door shut behind
7:11her.
7:12The lead man, tall with a sharp jawline
7:15and perfectly parted blond hair, scanned
7:17the room. His eyes bypassed the empty
7:20tables and locked onto the back corner.
7:23He saw the patch. He saw the bikers.
7:26And then he saw the small denim-clad leg
7:29trembling behind Brick's massive frame.
7:33The man offered a warm, exasperated
7:36smile.
7:37It was a perfect, practiced expression.
7:40The kind of smile that was to disarm and
7:42pacify.
7:44"Thank God."
7:45The blond man said, letting out a heavy
7:48sigh of relief as he walked forward, his
7:50partner flanking him a few steps behind.
7:54"I am so sorry to interrupt your meal,
7:55gentlemen. Truly."
7:58He stopped about 10 ft from the table.
8:01Bear and Ghost had both stood up,
8:03sliding out of the booth, forming a
8:05physical barrier alongside Brick.
8:08Five other patched members at the
8:10adjacent tables silently shifted in
8:12their seats, the scrape of their boots
8:14against the linoleum the only sound in
8:16the room.
8:18"Who's asking?"
8:19Brick asked, his voice low, lacking any
8:22trace of warmth.
8:23The blond man chuckled, running a hand
8:26through his hair. "I'm Richard, Richard
8:28Trent, and this little runaway hiding
8:30behind you is my nephew, Toby.
8:33Toby, come on out now. You've caused
8:35enough trouble for one morning."
8:38Trent took a step forward, reaching a
8:40hand out towards the boy.
8:43Brick didn't move an inch. He simply let
8:45his right hand rest casually on his belt
8:48buckle, right next to the heavy,
8:50unmistakable bulge under his flannel
8:52shirt.
8:54"Hold up." Brick said.
8:56"Boy doesn't seem too eager to go with
8:58his uncle." Trent's smile tightened just
9:00a fraction.
9:02"He has a condition. He's on the
9:03spectrum and he's deaf. He gets these
9:07episodes.
9:08Paranoia.
9:09He slipped out of the car when we
9:11stopped for gas down the road.
9:13My sister is worried sick.
9:15Please, Toby, let's go."
9:17It was a good story. It was smooth,
9:20believable, and delivered with exactly
9:22the right amount of familial
9:24frustration.
9:25Nine out of 10 people would have stepped
9:27aside, offered their sympathies, and
9:29handed the child over. But Riley Dempsey
9:32hadn't survived 20 years in an outlaw
9:35motorcycle club by taking people at
9:37their word.
9:38He felt the boy physically shaking
9:40against his back.
9:41It wasn't the stubborn resistance of a
9:43bratty runaway.
9:45It was the primal paralyzing fear of
9:47prey that had just been cornered by a
9:50predator.
9:51That's right.
9:53Ghost chimed in, stepping out from
9:55behind Bear.
9:57Ghost looked at Trent, then down at the
10:00boy.
10:01Ghost raised his hands, positioning them
10:03where the boy could see. Slowly,
10:05deliberately, Ghost began to move his
10:07fingers, forming shapes and gestures.
10:10American Sign Language.
10:13Brick glanced at Ghost in surprise.
10:16Ghost caught the look and smirked.
10:18My little sister was born deaf, Boss.
10:21Fluency was mandatory in my house.
10:24Trent's partner, a thick-necked man with
10:26a buzz cut, shifted his weight, his hand
10:29dropping subtly toward his right hip.
10:32Listen, buddy, we don't need a
10:33translator. We need our nephew. Step
10:36aside. Shut up. Bear growled, taking a
10:40heavy step forward that shook the
10:41floorboards.
10:43The buzz-cut man froze.
10:45Ghost knelt down slightly to make eye
10:47contact with the boy.
10:49He signed a question.
10:51Are these men your family?
10:53The boy's eyes went wide.
10:55He shook his head violently and began to
10:57sign back in a rapid, desperate flurry
11:00of motion.
11:01His hands slashed through the air, his
11:03face contorted in pure panic.
11:06Ghost watched his relaxed demeanor
11:09evaporating. The color slowly drained
11:11from his face, replaced by a cold,
11:14hardened fury.
11:16Ghost stood up, his eyes locking onto
11:18Trent.
11:20What did he say?
11:21Brick asked softly, his eyes never
11:24leaving Trent's face.
11:26Ghost didn't look at Brick.
11:28He kept his stare fixed on the two men
11:30in the suits.
11:32He says his name isn't Toby. It's Leo.
11:36He says these men aren't his uncles.
11:39Ghost paused, his jaw clenching. He says
11:42they put his dad in the trunk of that
11:44SUV outside.
11:46The diner fell dead silent. The rattling
11:49of the air conditioner seemed to
11:50amplify.
11:52Trent's practiced smile vanished,
11:54replaced by a mask of cold, calculating
11:58stone.
11:59The facade of the worried uncle was
12:01gone.
12:02He reached into his back pocket and
12:04pulled out a black leather wallet,
12:06flipping it open to reveal a silver
12:08badge and a laminated ID.
12:12Child Protective Services, Special
12:15Investigations.
12:17Trent lied, his voice dropping, the
12:20friendly pitch turning sharp and
12:22authoritative.
12:23The boy is a ward of the state. His
12:26father is a violent fugitive currently
12:28in custody.
12:29You are interfering with federal
12:31officers.
12:32I strongly suggest you hand the boy
12:34over, get on your bikes, and ride away.
12:38Brick looked at the badge. Then he
12:40looked at Trent's shoes.
12:42Expensive Italian leather hiking boots.
12:45He looked at the heavy tactical bulge
12:47under Buzzcut's polo shirt.
12:49CPS.
12:52Brick mused, spitting a wad of chewing
12:54tobacco into an empty coffee cup.
12:57Funny.
12:58I've dealt with social workers a time or
13:00two in my life. None of them wore $200
13:03boots, and none of them carried a
13:06sidearm with a grip that prints like a
13:08custom Glock 19.
13:11Trent's eyes narrowed. I'm not going to
13:13ask you again.
13:15Good, Brick rumbled, because my answer
13:18is no.
13:19Buzzcut made his move. It was fast, the
13:22muscle memory of a trained professional.
13:24His hand swept back, clearing his shirt
13:27to draw his weapon.
13:28He didn't make it halfway before the gun
13:31even cleared the holster. A deafening
13:33clack clack echoed from the front
13:35counter.
13:36Trent and his partner froze.
13:39Standing behind the diner counter was
13:42Betty, the sweet 60-year-old waitress.
13:45Resting on the Formica countertop,
13:47leveled directly at Trent's chest, was a
13:50sawed-off double-barrel shotgun.
13:53"I believe the gentleman said no." Betty
13:56said, her voice steady as a rock. At the
13:58exact same moment, the distinct sound of
14:01leather creaking and steel sliding
14:04echoed through the diner.
14:06Trent looked back at the bikers.
14:08Every single Hells Angel in the room was
14:10on their feet.
14:12Bear had a massive Bowie knife gripped
14:15in his meaty fist.
14:17Ghost held a heavy Smith & Wesson
14:19revolver casually aimed at Buzzcut's
14:21knee.
14:23Brick hadn't drawn a weapon, but he
14:24stood over the boy like a mountain. His
14:27arms crossed, a dark, violent promise in
14:30his eyes. "Now."
14:33Brick said, the air crackling with
14:35lethal tension.
14:36"You're going to take your hands away
14:38from your waistbands, very slowly.
14:41And then we're going to walk outside to
14:43your shiny black truck.
14:45And we're going to open the trunk."
14:49Trent stared at the armed bikers, the
14:51old woman with the shotgun, and the
14:53heavy odds stacked against him. A bead
14:55of sweat rolled down his temple.
14:58The hunter had just become the hunted.
15:00The standoff inside the Rusty Pan Diner
15:03hung by a frayed thread. The heavy
15:05silence was punctuated only by the
15:07aggressive rattling of the air
15:09conditioning unit and the shallow,
15:11terrified breathing of the boy clinging
15:13to Riley Brick Dempsey's heavy leather
15:15vest.
15:16Trent, the man pretending to be a
15:18desperate uncle and federal agent,
15:20slowly raised his hands to shoulder
15:23height, his palms facing outward in a
15:25gesture of reluctant surrender.
15:28The polished veneer of his false
15:30identity had cracked, revealing the
15:32cold, calculating predator beneath.
15:35Beside him, his partner, the
15:37thick-necked man with the buzz cut,
15:40mirrored the motion, his fingers inching
15:42away from the hem of his tactical shirt,
15:45where his weapon remained holstered.
15:48"Smart choice."
15:50Brick rumbled, his voice dropping an
15:52octave, carrying the weight of a
15:54seasoned brawler who had seen more than
15:56his fair share of violent altercations.
16:00"Now, two fingers. Pinch your weapons by
16:02the grip, pull them out slow, and set
16:05them on that table. You make a sudden
16:07twitch, and Betty here is going to
16:09introduce you to a 12-gauge confetti
16:11party."
16:12Betty didn't flinch. The barrel of the
16:15sawed-off shotgun remained rock-steady
16:17on the countertop.
16:19With excruciating slowness, Trent used
16:21his thumb and index finger to extract a
16:24sleek, compact SIG Sauer from a custom
16:27inside-the-waistband holster.
16:30He placed it gently on the nearest diner
16:32table.
16:33Buzz cut followed suit, depositing a
16:36heavily modified Glock 19 next to it.
16:40"Bare."
16:41Brick commanded without taking his eyes
16:43off the two interlopers.
16:45The massive biker stepped forward, his
16:47heavy boots thudding against the
16:49linoleum.
16:50He scooped up the firearms, checking the
16:52chambers with practiced efficiency
16:55before shoving them into the deep
16:57pockets of his denim jacket.
16:59He then patted down both men with
17:01aggressive thoroughness, pulling a pair
17:03of heavy-duty zip ties and two
17:05switchblades from Buzz Cut's tactical
17:08pants. "Look at this."
17:10Bare chuckled, a dark, menacing sound.
17:14"CPS carries tactical restraints now.
17:17Budget must be going up.
17:20All right. Brick said, gently peeling
17:23the trembling boy off his back.
17:25He looked down at the kid offering a
17:27rare softening expression that hardly
17:29ever graced his weathered features.
17:33Ghost, you stay here with the kid. Keep
17:35him calm.
17:36Betty, keep the door locked once we step
17:38out.
17:40Nobody comes in. Ghost nodded, dropping
17:43to one knee again, his hands immediately
17:45resuming the fluid motions of American
17:47Sign Language, distracting the boy from
17:50the escalating violence.
17:52Move. Brick barked, nodding toward the
17:55glass door. Trent and his partner walked
17:58out into the blinding, oppressive heat
18:01of the Mojave Desert.
18:03The midday sun was brutal, baking the
18:05asphalt and sending wavy mirages dancing
18:09across the empty stretch of Highway 40.
18:11The remaining five Hells Angels filed
18:14out behind them, forming a tight,
18:16inescapable semicircle around the two
18:18operatives.
18:19They approached the black Chevy Tahoe.
18:22The engine was still idling, the faint
18:24hum of the V8 vibrating through the
18:26soles of their boots.
18:28Keys. Brick demanded. Trent hesitated.
18:32Listen to me, biker. You have no idea
18:34what you are walking into. You think
18:36you're playing the hero for some abused
18:39kid?
18:40You are stepping into a corporate
18:41crossfire that will bury your entire
18:44chapter.
18:45Walk away.
18:46Take the kid, leave us the father, and
18:48we forget this happened.
18:50Brick stepped into Trent's personal
18:53space.
18:54The height difference was only a few
18:55inches, but Brick's sheer mass made him
18:59look like a mountain preparing to
19:01collapse on a pebble.
19:04I don't play hero,
19:06but I despise a liar, and I despise a
19:09man who hunts children. The keys.
19:12Now, Trent exhaled sharply, reaching
19:16into his pocket and tossing the heavy
19:18key fob onto the blistering pavement.
19:21Bear scooped it up and walked to the
19:23rear of the massive SUV.
19:25He pressed the trunk release button. The
19:27heavy lift gate beeped twice and slowly
19:30motorized upward, revealing the dark,
19:33cavernous cargo area of the vehicle.
19:36The smell hit them first, sweat, copper,
19:38and raw fear.
19:40Curled into a tight, agonizing ball in
19:43the back of the Tahoe was a man in his
19:45late 30s. His wrists and ankles were
19:48bound tightly with industrial zip ties.
19:51A thick strip of silver duct tape was
19:53plastered across his mouth.
19:55His face was a canvas of purple bruises
19:58and dried blood.
20:00His right eye swollen completely shut.
20:04He was wearing what used to be a crisp,
20:05expensive dress shirt, now torn and
20:08stained brown with desert dust and
20:11blood.
20:12The man flinched violently as the
20:14sunlight hit him, letting out a muffled,
20:16desperate groan through the tape.
20:18"Jesus." One of the younger angels
20:21muttered, taking a step back.
20:24Bear reached in, gripping the bound man
20:26by the shoulder and effortlessly hauled
20:28him out of the trunk, setting him gently
20:31on the asphalt.
20:32He pulled a massive hunting knife from
20:34his belt and sliced through the thick
20:37plastic ties binding the man's wrists
20:40and ankles.
20:41Finally, he grabbed the edge of the duct
20:43tape.
20:44"This is going to sting, buddy." Bear
20:46warned, ripping the tape off in one
20:48swift motion. The man gasped, sucking in
20:51the scorching desert air as if he had
20:53been drowning. He coughed violently,
20:55spitting a mixture of saliva and blood
20:58onto the pavement. His good eye darted
21:00around, frantically taking in the
21:02bearded, tattooed giants surrounding
21:04him, and then landing on the two men in
21:07tactical gear.
21:09"Leo."
21:10The man croaked his voice, raw and
21:13destroyed. "Where is my son?
21:16Where is Leo?"
21:17"He's inside."
21:19Brick said, kneeling beside the battered
21:21man.
21:23"He's safe. One of my brothers is with
21:25him.
21:26He's the one who asked us for help."
21:28The man slumped back against the bumper
21:30of the Tahoe, a wave of profound,
21:33earth-shattering relief washing over his
21:36bruised face.
21:38Tears tracked through the grime on his
21:40cheeks.
21:41"Thank god.
21:42Thank god."
21:44"Who are you?"
21:46Brick asked, his voice steady but
21:48demanding.
21:49"And who are these two clowns?"
21:52The man swallowed hard, wincing in pain.
21:56"My name is David.
21:58David Fisher. I'm a senior forensic
22:00auditor for Vanguard Logistics in
22:02Chicago.
22:03Those men aren't cops. They're private
22:06contractors, fixers.
22:08They work for a man named Richard Vance.
22:11No, wait, sorry. His name is Richard
22:13Sterling. No, wait. I mean, Richard
22:17Richard Croft. Croft is the CEO."
22:21David took a shuddering breath,
22:23struggling to keep his thoughts coherent
22:25through the pain and exhaustion.
22:27"I found something.
22:29Three weeks ago, I was running an
22:31internal audit on our international
22:34shipping manifests. I found ghost
22:36accounts.
22:38Billions of dollars being funneled
22:40through dummy corporations in the
22:41Caymans.
22:43But it wasn't just money laundering. It
22:45was human trafficking.
22:47They were using our dormant shipping
22:49containers to move people across the
22:51border.
22:53Thousands of them.
22:55Croft has been running it for years."
22:57Brick's jaw tightened.
22:59The Hells Angels were outlaws. They sold
23:02contraband. They fought rival clubs and
23:05they lived entirely outside the
23:07boundaries of polite society.
23:11But they had a code, a rigid unwritten
23:13constitution of the streets.
23:16You don't touch kids and you don't trade
23:18in human lives.
23:20The men who did were considered the
23:21absolute bottom of the barrel. The kind
23:24of scum that even the criminal
23:26underworld despised.
23:29I downloaded everything.
23:31David continued his voice shaking.
23:34Ledgers, banking routing numbers,
23:36communication logs.
23:38I put it all on an encrypted drive. I
23:41tried to go to the FBI in Chicago, but
23:43Croft has them on the payroll. I was
23:46nearly killed in the parking garage.
23:48I grabbed Leo from school and we ran.
23:51I have an old friend from law school, a
23:53federal judge in Phoenix who isn't
23:55compromised.
23:57We were on our way there when these
23:59animals ran us off the road this
24:00morning.
24:02David pointed a trembling blood-stained
24:04finger at Trent.
24:06They grabbed Leo to force me to give up
24:08the decryption key for the drive.
24:10If they got that drive back, they were
24:12going to kill us both.
24:15Brick stood up slowly. The desert wind
24:17howled kicking up a swirl of red dust
24:20around his heavy boots.
24:22He looked at Trent who was staring back
24:24with a look of defiant venomous
24:26arrogance.
24:28You're dead men.
24:30Trent sneered showing his teeth. You
24:32biker trash have no idea the kind of
24:35money and power you are interfering
24:37with. Croft will send an army to wipe
24:39your little clubhouse off the map.
24:42Brick didn't yell. He didn't lose his
24:44temper. He simply walked over to Trent,
24:47grabbed the man by the collar of his
24:49tactical shirt and slammed him brutally
24:52against the side of the Tahoe.
24:54The impact dented the heavy steel door.
24:58You're in the Mojave now, suit. Brick
25:00whispered, his face inches from Trent's.
25:03Your corporate money doesn't mean a damn
25:06thing out here. Out here, the only power
25:09that matters is the man standing next to
25:11you.
25:12And you are severely outnumbered.
25:14Brick turned to his men. Bear, strip
25:17them. Take their phones, their wallets,
25:20their radios, and their boots. Tie them
25:23to that rusted water tower behind the
25:25diner.
25:27Give them enough slack to sit in the
25:28shade, but make sure they can't reach
25:31the knots.
25:32Bear grinned, his eyes gleaming with
25:34malicious delight.
25:37With pleasure, boss.
25:39As Bear and two other Angels dragged the
25:41kicking and cursing operatives around
25:43the back of the building, Brick turned
25:45to the Tahoe. He grabbed a heavy crowbar
25:48from his saddlebag. With a series of
25:50violent, measured swings, he smashed the
25:53headlights, shattered the windshield,
25:55and drove the heavy iron bar straight
25:57down into the engine block, destroying
26:00the radiator and the serpentine belt.
26:03The SUV hissed and died, a plume of
26:06white steam rising into the hot air.
26:09All right, David. Brick said, offering a
26:12massive hand to the battered accountant.
26:15Can you ride?
26:17David looked up at the towering biker, a
26:19mixture of awe and terror in his eyes.
26:23Ride, you mean? On the motorcycles.
26:26We don't have a minivan, Brick said
26:29dryly.
26:30We're taking you to Phoenix.
26:32The transformation of the Hell's Angels
26:35from a Sunday riding crew into a
26:36tactical extraction unit took less than
26:395 minutes. Inside the diner, Ghost
26:42managed to calm Leo down, explaining
26:45through sign language that his father
26:47was safe and that the bad men were gone.
26:50When David stumbled through the door
26:51supported by Brick, the boy let out a
26:54silent, tearful cry and sprinted across
26:58the room, burying his face in his
27:00father.
27:02David collapsed to his knees, wrapping
27:04his arms around his son, sobbing into
27:06the dusty hair.
27:08Even the hardest men in the room looked
27:10away, finding sudden interest in the
27:12scuff marks on their boots.
27:15Wrap it up. Brick ordered gently. We
27:18have 200 miles of open highway between
27:20here and Phoenix, and those corporate
27:23fixers will be missed. We need to move
27:25fast.
27:26Ghost knelt beside Leo again. He signed
27:30quickly, his face serious but
27:32reassuring. You will ride with me. Hold
27:34on tight. Do not let go.
27:37Leo wiped his eyes, looked at his
27:39father, and nodded bravely.
27:41David was fitted with a spare leather
27:43jacket to protect his battered torso
27:46from the biting wind and a heavy
27:48motorcycle helmet. He climbed onto the
27:50back of the massive Road Glide piloted
27:53by Brick. Ghost lifted Leo onto the
27:56pillion seat of his customized Dyna,
27:58securing a smaller helmet onto the boy.
28:01Ghost took an extra leather belt and
28:04strapped it around his own waist and the
28:07boy, ensuring Leo could not slip off if
28:09he fell asleep. The eight heavy
28:11motorcycles roared to life
28:14simultaneously,
28:15a deafening mechanical symphony that
28:18shook the windows of the rusty diner.
28:20Betty stood in the doorway, the shotgun
28:22resting over her shoulder, giving the
28:24bikers a solemn nod of respect as they
28:27peeled out of the gravel parking lot.
28:30They hit Highway 40 in a tight,
28:32staggered formation.
28:35Brick took the lead position with David
28:37clinging onto him.
28:38Ghost and Leo were positioned directly
28:41in the center of the pack, surrounded by
28:43a shield of heavy American steel and
28:46hardened outlaws.
28:48Bear brought up the rear as the tail
28:51gunner, keeping a sharp eye on their
28:52blind spots. 3 hours later, the
28:55sprawling concrete metropolis of Phoenix
28:58emerged from the desert haze.
29:01Following shouted directions, Brick
29:04navigated the rumbling convoy off the
29:06main interstate and into the quiet,
29:09affluent suburbs of Paradise Valley.
29:12They pulled up in front of a sprawling
29:13modern home surrounded by high stucco
29:16walls.
29:17Before the engines were even shut off,
29:19the front door burst open.
29:22An older man in slacks ran out flanked
29:24by two armed federal marshals.
29:27This was Judge Thomas Harrison. David
29:30practically fell off the bike stumbling
29:32toward the gate. The marshals raised
29:34their weapons, but the judge barked an
29:36order to lower them. He rushed forward
29:39catching David before he hit the ground.
29:41"I have it." David gasped, reaching into
29:44his boot and pulling out a small
29:46encrypted flash drive.
29:49"It is all here."
29:50"Croft sent a hit squad after us."
29:53The judge looked past his bruised friend
29:55staring in bewilderment at the heavily
29:57armed outlaws idling in his driveway.
30:00"David, who are these men?"
30:03David looked back at Brick, then at
30:05Ghost, profound gratitude shining in his
30:08swollen eyes.
30:10"They saved our lives."
30:12Leo ran forward.
30:14He stood next to the terrifying
30:16motorcycle completely unafraid.
30:18He reached into his pocket and pulled
30:20out the cheap blue ballpoint pen he had
30:23used to write the desperate note.
30:26He offered it to the giant biker.
30:29Brick carefully slipped it into his
30:30pocket.
30:31With a deafening engine roar, he left.
30:35If this incredible true story of
30:37unlikely heroes and desert justice kept
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30:54real-life tales.
30:56Have you ever experienced a moment where
30:58a stranger stepped in to save the day?
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31:03below.
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