They were waiting for the food to be brought out when Enki reached out. Cameron could feel his presence, but nothing more. To establish the connection he had to focus, and there was a chance of levitating. The only place to accomplish this, and obscure him from others was the restroom.
While the two were forming a link Victor was entering their headquarters. He was sweeping the club for any bugs before joining the others. Entering the room one could see a band of irritated bikers around a large table.
"Took you long enough."
Sitting at the head of the table was a man with long black hair slicked back. His name is Trevor, and he's the current president of the chapter. Trevor and Victor were the only people aware of today's sudden meeting.
Recently their shipments have been intercepted by the DEA regardless of a switch of tactics. For something like this to happen they were either bugged, or a rat was at the table. Today's meeting was to figure out which one and handle it.
Sitting in the corner of the room curious about the meeting was an undercover named Marcus. He was unaware that Victor received a photo of him in uniform. Victor took his seat next to Trevor and signaled he knew the cause.
"As you all know by now only one shipment has gone through in two months," Trevor announced.
"We've even lost a brother over it." Victor glanced around the table.
"Every once in a while this happens."
"It's a part of the business."
"Laying low for a little should smooth things out."
"We just need to find a safer way to transport it," Marcus suggested.
'Of course, you say that.' Victor tried to keep his composure.
"We've already got a new system in mind, and have a model outside," Trevor announced.
Hearing this the other members looked around the table. They never displayed merchandise at the club, but the newest patch was still unaware of this. Everyone got up from the table and worked their way to the crusher.
'Victor's been unusually quiet.' Marcus gauged their behavior.
Realizing they were heading for the corner of the property Marcus stopped. Their reports mentioned they operated out of a junkyard to mask the noise of executions. He covered his tracks carefully, but something must've leaked.
'Acting now is my only chance.' Marcus quickly reached for his vest.
A gunshot echoed off the mountain as Victor smirked. Marcus took a shot to the shoulder and was promptly seized. Trevor sighed and approached them slowly before knocking Marcus out.
"You should've waited." Trevor scolded Victor.
"He went for his vest." Victor spits at Marcus.
"Now we have to wait to handle this. Take the cut, and toss him in a car in case someone shows up." Trevor ordered.
"How's the front looking?" Victor radioed the office.
"A few customers in the diner, and they're starting to look around." The prospect replied.
"Turn the crusher on, and bring them here," Trevor announced.
"If they escape you can kiss your patch goodbye." Victor radioed.
Jordan was attempting to open the bathroom door, but it was bolted shut. He started knocking when the phone in the diner rang. Megan saw the prospect approaching from the garage and a group trailing behind him. She promptly grabbed a steak knife and shuffled it into her sleeve.
'Where are they going?' Megan noticed the workers taking cover in the kitchen.
"You need to come with me." The prospect demanded.
"Fuck off." Megan retorted.
The prospect reached for a gun, but Megan stabbed him in the shoulder. When the pistol dropped to the ground she scrambled to retrieve it. The prospect reared back to strike Megan as Jordan smashed a coffee pot across his face.
"That's enough."
They looked up to see several guns in their direction. Megan dropped the pistol, and slowly stood up with her arms raised. Victor looked around but failed to see the third person.
"Where's the last one?" Victor called out.
"B-bathroom!" The manager shouted.
Victor tried to force the door open but got frustrated when it failed. He sent the larger biker to handle the door as he seized Megan's arm. Before they could cause another ruckus Victor hauled them to the junkyard.
While the biker was ramming the door Cameron was still meditating. He was being briefed on S4, and how the Syndicate operates. The bathroom door came crashing down as Cameron was snagged up from the floor.
"Wake up asshole!" He shouted.
Cameron was unresponsive as the biker dragged him out. The staff poked their heads up to see him being carried like a dummy. Enki's instructions finished relaying as his eyes opened.
'What's going on?'
After struggling Cameron forced the biker to drop him. He returned to his feet noticing the others absent. Before turning back the giant man seized Cameron by the collar lifting him up.
"About time you woke up."
"Let go," Cameron demanded.
A heavy blow struck Cameron across the jaw as blood dripped down his chin. He looked back at his assailant before wiping the blood from his lip. The massive biker looked down at Cameron with a smirk.
"Or what?"
In an instant, the biker went crashing through the diner wall sliding across the sand. Blood began seeping into the ground as his hand twitched erratically. The trembling employees just watched a three-hundred-pound man fly across the room.
"Where are my friends?" Cameron investigated.
"I do-don't know." The manager replied.
Their breath became visible as Cameron turned in their direction. Witnessing the counter crumble under his grip they gulped. While doing this Cameron's eyes never left the manager making the threat clear.
"J-ju-junkyard." The manager backed up to the wall.
Before Cameron awoke Jordan and Megan were rounded up with the rat for disposal. Looking around Jordan counted a total of twelve men, and each of them was armed. Megan began checking on the wounded officer as the bikers argued.
"We already have it on so let's get it over with."
"It's easier if they're all in the same car."
"I still think we should do it in the desert."
"So we can get caught on the road? That's a bright idea."
"You wanna hear a good idea? Let us go before it's too late." Megan announced.
'She has to say something every time.' Jordan sighed.