Page 9 of Peer & Coco
Chapter 3
The members of Blue, an intercity gang within Portland, were already at the meeting spot under the St. John's Bridge by nine o'clock. Peer rode behind Roar, Brage, and Elling with Marcus and Joel at his side. The cargo ship set for Norway would leave in two weeks, and they needed to pick up the extortion money first.
Scanning the area, he slowed down and came to a stop. Each monthly pickup made them more alert to Moroad Motorcycle Club ambushing them. The contracts had belonged to Moroad until Slag confiscated them from the motorcycle club located in Federal, Idaho.
"Let's make this quick." Roar left his helmet on and strode forward with Brage.
Getting off his Harley, Peer kept his eye on the man exiting the passenger side door of the lead car. He expected someone to pull a gun.
They'd been commandeering the payment for over two years. Blue had plenty of time to figure a way out of the corner Slag pushed them into and had yet to act. Month after month, it came as a surprise when they handed over the cash without any trouble.
"Another one. Left rear of the third car." Joel shifted to his left, keeping the man in sight.
As if another Blue member joining the meeting was a signal, all the doors on the cars opened. Peer brought out his pistol and held his position. His first job was to protect his president.
Roar and Brage continued the exchange, not showing any fear. None of the men gathering in the area reached for a weapon or approached those making the exchange. A few walked toward the water, thirty feet away.
"What the fuck are they doing?" said Joel.
"I don't like it." Peer moved in front of his motorcycle in case he had to dash out and protect Roar. Then, it dawned on him that they could be distracting him, and he turned around and watched the road.
"Keep an eye on the entrance points," said Elling.
Peer's gaze swept over the street, under the bridge where an unmarked road allowed traffic through to the residential area a block away. There was no movement, no sight of any vehicles parked nearby, no signs that men sporting blue bandanas and wearing flannels over their sport's team shirts rushing around any corners.
Roar and Brage stepped away from the leaders. Peer had missed the exchange.
The members of Blue came back from the water and walked directly to the vehicles while the leaders turned their back and headed away from Slag's president. Peer continued to scan the area even after Roar and Brage came back to their motorcycles.
"Everything okay?" asked Elling.
"Ja." Roar swung his leg over his Harley. "Let's ride."
As one, they all mounted and rode off. Peer took up the rear, keeping an eye on the side mirror of his motorcycle. Blue let them leave without any problems.
Twenty minutes later, he rolled past the gate into the alley between bar and clubhouse. He parked his motorcycle in the line of bikes and toed the kickstand. Taking out his phone, he checked for any calls and texts. The tension in his chest eased. He'd given instructions to Coco to call if she needed him while watching Tyr.
No message meant Tyr was safe.
Roar reached inside his vest and pulled out a stack of cash, holding it out in Peer's direction. He strode forward and took the extortion money.
"That's it from Red and Blue. In two weeks, we'll travel up to Seattle." Roar looked around at the crowd of Slag members filling the alley. "Because of the large supply of weapons that we sent with the last shipment; this will be it for the Mother Chapter."
"Is it enough?" asked Dag, a newly patched-in member.
"We'll make it work. In the meantime, Elling is working on finding a way to intercept one of Moroad Motorcycle Club's shipment of illegal guns. We'll discuss it more during the meeting." Roar motioned for Peer to go.
He walked through the crowd and entered the clubhouse. Going straight to the meeting room, he shut the door. There were only two people who had the combination for the safe. Him and Roar.
In the case of both of them dying, the Slag information packet would be opened by the vice president or the next in line who was still alive. The official document, from the Mother Chapter in Norway, would let the Portland Chapter know how to access the money and find all the information they would need to run the club.
He removed the Slag Motorcycle Club flag from the hooks on the wall covering the safe, tapped in the combination on the keypad, and pressed his thumb to the scanner. The fire-proof steel door unlocked.
Retrieving the financial records book and the cash pouch, he stepped over to the table and sat down. He grabbed a pen, and after counting the money, he put the cash flow in the appropriate columns, dividing the profit into thirds.
Norway, Seattle, and Portland Chapters would all benefit.
He leaned back in the chair. If he died, what would happen to Tyr?