Charlie was sat in his yard, music again blaring as he downed the remainder of his bottle of beer and tossed it lazily towards the pile that had accumulated beside his porch. Knight’s house was one of a few dotted around the a somewhat remote dirt road along the outskirts of Geurchville, though far from the fanciest of dwellings they were certainly a whole lot better than many of the other ‘houses’ around and bigger to boot. But of course the main thing he had bought it for was the privacy – he’d always hated nosey neighbours, something that had only gotten far more prominent with his less than legitimate hobby.  

Leaning back in the shoddy lawn chair he reached over and retrieved another bottle from the small mini-fridge that stood perched in the open window into his kitchen. His phone buzzed and he took a moment to twist open the beer and take another gulp before he pulled it from his pocket.
 
The caller ID showed that it was none other than Bobby Laurent, which caused Charlie to frown a little as he wondered what exactly he wanted.
 
“Heeey Bobby, what can I do for yah?” he chirped down the phone as he took another swig and leant back in the chair with his feet up on the porch railing.
 
There was a few moments silence before a rather monotone husky voice replied “Moons hit the op on Crabtree. Adam and David are dead, so’re the others. Product’s all gone n just a bloody mess left behind”
 
The words struck Charlie like a bolt.
 
“Dead? What..?” he managed to blurt as the news only just began to sink in.

“Listen, shit’s going down [i]right now[/i].  O’Toole n the boys are headin to the Sin Den an that shithole garage they use to make those leather wearin bike fuckers pay in kind for what they done.”
 
Charlie tried to search for the words to express himself, but nothing came out of his mouth other than a little groan. 

“Yeah” continued Bobby “so if that chick you seein is there I’d  go get her out, you know what O’Toole is like”.
 
Dry mouthed and head still spinning Charlie managed to reply flatly “Thanks Bobby”  before he hung up. His mind was racing at the thought of Adam and Dave being dead and the Laurents heavy hitters making their way to the Sin Den to cause who knew how much carnage. He knew things had been ramping up in Geurchville over the last year, but this was a new extreme level of violence he somehow never thought he’d see.
 
Charlie and the others had never seen or considered themselves actually getting killed – and for it to be over a grow-op of all things just felt like a big punch to the stomach. Gritting his teeth as his mind raced he thought about Adam, the two of them had been friends for more than ten years and now he was just gone. Charlie was gripping the bottle so tightly his knuckles were begging to turn white as he felt anger surging through him the more he thought about what had happened.

Swearing he threw the bottle as his blood pounded through him, the projectile shattering against the wall of his house as he jumped up and grabbing his bag he stormed over to his car as he wrenched the door open and threw it inside. He wasted no time in firing the engine up as he reversed and tore out of the long dirt track that led into his property before he screeched out onto the road and floored it towards the centre of Geurchville at practically double the limit – the whole while swearing and pounding his fist into the steering wheel as he worked himself up into quite the state. 
 
By the time he tore into the centre he was downright furious as he came screeching to a halt haphazardly across two spaces in the parking lot. Reaching over he yanked his new Sig Sauer from the bag as well as a knuckle-duster from his glovebox, the knowledge that he was supposed to be shooting at bottles and random wildlife with Adam and David right now made it feel appropriate as he clambered out and stuffed the gun into his waistband and slipped the metal onto his fist.
 
He still wasn’t sure exactly what he was going to do as he walked towards the entrance of the Sin Den, he could already hear the sounds of violence inside but it didn’t look like the Laurent's real muscle  had arrived yet by the lack of pickups surrounding the place. As he walked past the line of parked bikes he took the opportunity to vent some of his anger as he kicked one of them which caused it to fall creating a chain reaction which sent them all crashing into the ground before he made his way inside – the doorman undoubtedly somewhere inside trying to quell the chaos that was unfolding.

As soon as he was inside he saw that things really were a mess already, the entire joint was starting to look a little trashed as Moons, Laurents and everyone in-between clashed as some tried to escape and others threw themselves into the fight with relish. After only a few steps a pair of brawling idiots crashed towards him, one of them wearing riding leathers and heavy boots – it was safe to assume he was a Moon from his getup. Without a pause Charlie launched himself into the guy, his knuckle duster making contact with his ribs which crunched sickeningly as he cried out and whirled around. The next hit took him squarely in the jaw only moments after he lunged at Charlie and he crashed to the ground like a sack of shit. 

The other guy stared at him for a moment before he took the opportunity to make for the exit. Landing a swift kick into the unmoving goon’s stomach Charlie turned and stalked deeper into the Sin Den – far from feeling better his mood was now thoroughly foul as he half looked around for Tara and half looked for another Moon to vent his rage upon.
 
In the centre of the club he spotted Óscar Guijarro, recognising him from the few times he’d worked with the Laurents – though right now he seemed to be landing hits on both Laurent and Moon alike, brawling like a man possessed with a snarl covering his features he looked angry.
 
“Hey Óscar!” he yelled trying to get the Spaniards attention, but before he could repeat himself someone smashed into Charlie from behind sending him crashing into a table  which gave way as he sprawled on the ground. Bearing over him one of the hairiest bikers he had ever seen, the man easily twice his size as he launched and array of heavy punches and kicks at Charlie whilst he tried to scramble to his feet whilst protecting himself. Springing up Charlie dodged a rather sloppy swing and landed his own punch catching the giant on the brow with his duster. This however only seemed to enrage the beast who with a roar charged forwards and snatched  Charlie into a bearhug of sorts as they crashed into a small group of bikers and another booth sending more drinks flying as the impact drove the wind from him and sent his vision swimming as he tried frantically to escape the biker’s meaty clutches as he scrabbled to reach around for his gun - which he discovered unfortunately was now laying on the ground of the club out of his reach half under the overturned table.