SAUL: The Pagans MC Read online

  “Nice to meet you, Saul. Please sit down,” Johnny said as he began to sit.

  “Saul, we’re having a lot of trouble with the locals. The police are useless,” Ryan began.

  Saul struggled to hide his smile. “Oh? How’s that?”

  “It’s mostly kids, but they crowd up on the barricades and make a lot of noise, or slip past our parameter and walk through shots, shit like that. Like I said, the police are useless. We can block off the roads, but since they are public streets, we can’t legally prevent people from entering. We’ve asked for police on the barricades for crowd control, but…let’s just say they have been less than completely cooperative. We’ve hired a few off-duty police officers, but, frankly, we don’t have enough.”

  Saul nodded. “You want my club to provide security?”

  “That’s right.”

  “We can do that. What’s it pay?”

  “Five hundred a day.”

  Saul began to rise. “Thank you for your time.”

  “Wait!” Ryan said. “What will it take?” he asked as Saul sat down again.

  “Fifteen hundred dollars a day. For that I guarantee security when and where you need it.”

  “That’s pretty expensive security,” Johnny said softly.

  “Your fifteen hundred buys you as many as one hundred fifty men and a guarantee you won’t have any problems.”

  Johnny and Ryan looked at each other. “A thousand a day, with a five hundred dollar bonus if we meet our daily shooting schedule.”

  “I have no control over you meeting your shooting schedule,” Saul pointed out.

  Ryan drummed his fingers on the table. “I need some guarantee.”

  Saul smiled. “Okay. I guarantee you won’t have crowd problems or you don’t have to pay us. But I have a few conditions.”

  “What?” Johnny asked.

  “First, we handle security. The cops have to go. They may not like some of our methods. Second—”

  “Wait a minute!” Ryan interrupted. “We can’t have you roughing people up!”

  Saul’s smile widened slightly. “And we don’t intend to. But do you want the crowds to quiet down or not? You make an example out of one or two people and the rest fall in line. We’ve provided security to a lot of events and people around here know us. It probably won’t come to that, but I can’t have you tying my hands and still do the job. Second,” he continued, “we handle only security. We’re not a bunch of flunkies you can order around. My men report to me, and me alone. You want something changed or done, you see me. Finally, we have access to the facilities on the set. It’s hotter than hell out there, and my men will be there every minute, so we need to be able to get something to eat or drink, and use the restrooms.”

  There was an extended pause as Ryan and Johnny looked at each other. “We have to do something or we might as well pack up and go home,” Johnny said.

  Ryan paused a moment longer then extended his hand and Saul took it. “We have a deal. I’ll have a contract drawn up. But we have a few conditions, as well. Foremost among them is no talking to the talent. You don’t speak to them unless you are spoken to first. Understand?”

  Saul snorted. “Not a problem.”

  “If you need something, find a crew member. There will be plenty of PAs around.”

  “PAs?”

  “Sorry, Production Assistants. Their job is to make sure everyone and everything is where it needs to be when it needs to be there. Talk to them. If they can’t handle it, they’ll know who can.” Ryan looked at his phone. “It’s one-thirty now. There’s a ten o’clock call at the Plaza Cinema downtown. You know where that is? Can you be setup for that?”

  “Call?”

  Johnny grinned. “You’ll get used to the terms. Call mean when we want you at the location or on set. We’ll start setting up around eleven and start shooting between one and two. Tonight we’ll shoot until four or until we get the shot.”

  Saul nodded. “We’ll be there.”

  Saul was rising to leave when Angela walked in and headed directly for their table. She was lovely, of course, and Saul admired her as she approached. Standing five-five or five-six, she had wavy coal black hair to just below her shoulders, large dark eyes set wide in her round face, and a body that would stop a clock.

  “I just got the call sheet,” she began, her voice hard. “If it’s going to be like last night, you can shove your fucking movie. I’ve got better things to do than to sit around sweating my ass off while the crew jacks off. What are you going to do about these fucking hick rednecks?”

  Saul sucked on his teeth in annoyance, but held his tongue. He didn’t give two shits what she thought. He knew from watching her over the last few days she was nothing but a spoiled bitch who would be best served by having a cock shoved in her mouth so she couldn’t talk.

  “We’ve contracted with a new security team and they have guaranteed they can handle the crowd,” Ryan explained, his voice firm but deferential.

  “That’s what you said before.”

  “This time it will be different. You have my word. We’ll have five times the resources.”

  She glared at him, then swept the table with her eyes, pausing on Saul for a moment before returning her gaze to Ryan. “See that it is. I’m not sitting around on my ass all night like I did last night. If the hicks keep fucking up the takes, I’m outta there.”

  “Angela, you have a contract that—”

  “I don’t give a fuck about the contract. You came to me, remember? I’ll do my job when you do yours.” She turned and walked away without a backwards glance.

  Saul watched her go, admiring the swing of her ass. “She’s a real sweetheart,” he said as she barged past a waiter, making him scramble to hold onto his tray.

  Johnny chuckled. “She’s young. She’ll grow out of it or she won’t last long,” he said, sounding like the kindly grandfather he looked like.

  “What’s with her, anyway?” Saul asked.

  “She’s fresh off a blockbuster, and she stared in a popular television show before that. It’s gone to her head. She hasn’t realized making good movies is a team effort,” Johnny explained.

  Saul gave a small nod. “Don’t talk to the talent you said? No problem.”

  ***

  Saul walked into the Pagans’ clubhouse and flipped on the lights. The Pagans weren’t a mega club, not like the Angel Hunters, Devil’s Advocates, or one of the other national clubs. They had 155 brothers in the Laredo area, in the one chapter, and that was it.

  None of the bothers drew their sole income from the club, even himself, so it wasn’t surprising the clubhouse was empty in the middle of the day, the brothers either at work or home with friends or family.

  It worked for them. The core of the Pagans, the twenty members who knew all the details of the club, had their own businesses that covered their expenses while they drew a portion of their income from the club. The other 135 members paid dues and were completely out of the loop on where the club generated the bulk of its revenue. As far as they knew, the club worked occasional security gigs or other odd jobs, and survived off the dues the members paid.

  He drew himself a beer from the tap then settled into his favorite chair and called Jacob West, his VP.

  “Saul,” Jacob said in way of greeting.

  “We got the job,” Saul began. “We start at ten tonight. Because we’re going to have to shut down what we started, I’m going to ask for everyone to be there. I want at least a hundred brothers on the barricades tonight. I’ll send out a text as soon as I hang up.”

  “Did you get what you we wanted?”

  Saul grinned. “More. Their star had a meltdown on set last night while I was there, so I told them I wanted fifteen hundred.”

  “And they went for it?”

  Saul’s smile grew. “They offered five hundred, but when I stood up and started to leave, they asked me what it would take. They balked, a little, but they’re desperate.”

 
“Out fucking standing!”

  “Yeah. Go fuck your old lady and then catch a nap. It’s going to be a long night. I’m going to want everyone at the clubhouse at nine.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “You can ignore the text you’re about to get,” Saul said. “Later, brother.”

  “Later.”

  Saul spent the next several minutes composing a text to the Pagans to round up the brothers. Text sent, he spent a few minutes watching the Houston Astros play ball on television until he finished his beer. He sat the bottle on the floor and leaned back in the recliner, and with the Astros up by two runs, drifted into sleep.

  Chapter Three

  “Listen up,” Saul said to quiet the group down. They’d had only eleven no-shows, which gave them a packed house. It wasn’t often all the members were in the clubhouse at the same time, but when they were, like tonight, it was a tight squeeze, so he wanted to wrap this up quickly and get on the road.

  The Pagans’ clubhouse was a small house in the poorer part of Laredo. The property backed up to the Rio Grande, with a television transmitter across the street. Nobody wanted the place because of its lousy location and they’d bought it, along with the house one either side, for sixty grand, cash. All three houses were dilapidated pieces of shit that had been sitting empty for years when the Pagans bought them ten years ago, but after they had gutted and renovated the center house and razed the other two, it was the nicest property on the block. After the clubhouse was finished, they’d had a little trouble with theft, but after a few severe ass-kickings put more than one person in the hospital, the locals realized the Pagans clubhouse was better left alone, and they’d had no more problems.

  Over the years, they had fenced in the yards, paved over a section of one of the lots for parking, and built a small shop with a bike lift and air conditioning, where members could come to work on their hogs in comfort, but there was still plenty of room for grass, a barbecue pit and a large covered area with a mister system where they could gather and enjoy each other’s company.

  “We’re going to meet at the Plaza at ten. The production crew will already be there, or will be arriving shortly after. When they get there, if they give you direction on crowd control, listen to them and try to accommodate them. If, for some reason, you can’t accommodate them, send them to me. If they ask you to do anything that isn’t related to crowd control, send them to me. If, for some reason, I’m not there, Jacob will be, so send them to him.” He paused a moment. “Any questions?”

  There were none. “Okay. A couple more things. I want everyone on their best behavior for this job, but I don’t want you taking any shit from the crowd. We will control the crowd, but if you are going to have to get physical, again call me, or Jacob, if I’m not around. If someone is going to bring in the thunder, I want it to be one of the officers, okay?”

  “What if someone gets in our face?” Pat asked.

  “If someone puts their hands on you, then you stomp them into a greasy spot. Got it?” The brothers chuckled. “I don’t want one of us starting anything, but we are the fucking Pagans, and if someone wants the hammer, we’ll give it to them. Tonight will be the first night and I expect we’ll be tested. Keep it clean, but if they want to go, you fuck ‘em up. Clear enough?”

  When nobody had anything else to say he continued. “We have full access to the food, water, and bathrooms. Feel free to use them, but make sure someone is covering you. The other thing: they asked we not talk to the cast unless they speak to us first.” He waited while the brothers groaned and muttered. “Trust me, I met Angela Moncrief today and she’s one stuck up bitch. You don’t want to talk to her. They didn’t say anything about the crew, so I assume that’s okay. To be honest, we’re going be well away from the action, so it probably won’t come up. Any questions?”

  Nobody had any. “Okay, standard cut on this, just like always,” Jacob said. “They’re paying fifteen hundred a day.” That got a couple of whistles, but with so many brothers working, the cuts would still be small.

  “Right,” Saul confirmed. “For the next couple of days we’re going to make a big push to establish our control, then we’ll probably cut back. I’ll let everyone know when and where we’re supposed to be. If you can make the times, be sure to let me know so Jacob and I can schedule.” He paused to give someone time to speak up. “Let’s motor!” he said as he slapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously, calling an end to the meeting.

  ***

  The Pagans were waiting as the first production trucks begin to arrive. They quickly establish a parameter around the production crew, taking charge of setting up the barricades. Ten minutes after the first production truck arrived, a ’86 Monte Carlo arrived with a blasting stereo. Saul smiled as he crossed the barricade and approached the kid propped on the Chevy. They might as well start asserting their authority now.

  “You’re going to have to turn that down when they begin to film.”

  The kid looked him over with bored eyes. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “I’m the guy who’s going to fuck you up if you don’t do what I say.”

  “Fuck you, man. This is a free—”

  The kid didn’t even have time to complete his sentence until he had his face pressed into the hood of his car, Saul’s hand on the back of his neck. “The only words I want to hear out of your mouth are ‘Yes, sir.’ Got it?”

  “Let go of me, you—”

  Saul pulled the kid up by the neck and slammed his face hard into the hood of his car. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  “You fu—” the kid said as he began as he struggled. Saul again jerked his head off the car and slammed it down again, even harder, making the kid cry out in pain. “Okay! Fuck! Sorry! Jesus! Let me go!”

  Saul let him up. “Now, let’s try this again. You’re going to turn your stereo down, now.”

  The kid looked at him and wiped his bleeding nose. “Yes, sir.” Saul waited until the kid reached in and switched the car off. “Happy?”

  “Very. Don’t make me come back over here. Next time I won’t be so nice. Pass the word to any of your friends who show up.”

  “Fuck you. I’m leaving.”

  Saul made a lunge at him, as if he were going to attack him, causing the kid to flinch and backpedal so fast he almost fell. Saul gave him a smile that didn’t touch his eyes, then turned on his toe and walked away without a backward glance, grinning to himself as the kid left with a squeal of tires. That’s one, he thought as Andy grinned and slapped him on the back as he passed through the barricade.

  ***

  It was almost midnight and there was a thin line of people crowding the barricade. So long as they kept their voices to normal conversation levels, and didn’t show their ass, the Pagans left them alone. Saul, with a few other brothers, had pushed their way through the crowd a couple of times to deal with trouble makers. Most backed down and left, but a few wanted to prove how big their dick was. So far, all of those who had wanted to rumble had left with little more than bruised pride and a few scrapes and bumps, but this latest one was about to get his ass kicked.

  “You don’t want to do that,” Saul said calmly as the guy jumped up from the pavement and pulled the knife, holding it in front him.

  “Knife!” Caleb cried, starting to move in to help but Saul held up his hand, never taking his eyes off the man in front of him.

  “Get everyone back!” Saul ordered as ten more Pagans ran up in support as the man’s friends began shouting for him to stop.

  The Pagans began to push the rest of the man’s friends back, checking them for more weapons and watching for trouble.

  “Pedro! Don’t!” one of the women screamed as she was pushed back. There were six men and women there, three of each, who had arrived in three cars, but Pedro was clearly the leader of the group.

  “You better listen to her, Pedro, before you get hurt.”

  “Yeah? The Pagans think they’re so fucking tough! Come
on! Let’s see how tough you really are!”

  Saul kept his eyes on the man. Pedro looked to be a little younger than him, perhaps twenty, but his eyes were cold and dangerous. Saul was armed, and could legitimately shoot the asshole now, but killing him would fuck up everything. He gave Pedro a cold smile and motioned him forward with the flick of his first two fingers.

  Pedro lunged in but Saul sidestepped, grabbed Pedro’s arm to prevent him from bringing the knife around, and drove his elbow hard back into Pedro’s face. He staggered from the blow as Saul grabbed his knife hand and twisted it hard.

  The entire crowd heard the snap of the bone as Saul broke Pedro’s wrist, pulling the knife from his numb hand as Pedro cried out in pain. He drove the knife hard into the hood of the Camaro, not stopping until it hit the hilt. Saul then pivoted Pedro around, grabbed him behind the head, and jerked Pedro’s head down to meet his fast rising knee.