Chapter 12 : All Roads Lead to Rome
In that place that looked like a dungeon, filthy and foul-smelling, where no light entered, only pitch-black darkness. The walls were made of cold stone, the floor was damp, and the smell of mold and urine filled the space.
Ebiel spoke in a tired voice: "Hey Thomas... can you hear me?"
Thomas's voice came from the other corner: "What do you want?"
Ebiel sighed: "How long do you think it's been? A day? Two days? Or days?"
Before Thomas could answer, a voice cut through from behind the iron door.
Voice from outside: "Are they still conscious?"
Another voice answered with a sarcastic tone: "Piggy, put them to sleep."
They heard a faint laugh, then Piggy: "Easy, Karl."
The door swung open violently, and light exploded into the dungeon like a knife. Ebiel and Thomas squeezed their eyes shut, the temporary blindness stinging their nerves.
Ebiel cursed: "Fuck..."
Thomas: "Close the door... sons of bitches."
Karl entered first, his massive frame blocking part of the light: "Get him, Piggy."
Piggy didn't wait. He kicked Thomas hard in the stomach, making him double over in pain.
Thomas: "Ahhhh... you son of a bitch... you're soft, you fat fuck."
Ebiel tried to get up: "Stop it!"
Piggy turned to him, his laugh cold: "Listen... your brother's smart."
He turned back and punched Thomas again.
Suddenly, a sharp voice cut through from the end of the hallway:
Distant voice: "Hey Motherfuckers! What are you doing?! I said I want them alive! The plan changed!"
Piggy looked up, confused: "Whaaaaaat?!"
The President entered. He was tall, with short black hair, his dark sunglasses hiding his eyes. He stood in the middle of the room as if he owned it.
President in a cold voice: "The plan changed."
Piggy looked at Karl, confused: "Karl... check the President?"
Karl shrugged: "Hey... you okay? You joking or what?"
President ignored them, turned to Ebiel and Thomas: "Yeah, you heard. Close the door. I need you for something else..."
He paused, then turned his head to Karl: "Oh, I remember. Did they eat anything?"
Karl: "No."
President: "Get them something to eat."
Piggy grabbed the door to close it.
Ebiel spoke weakly: "Wait... wait! I need to take a piss."
Karl laughed: "Piss on yourself. Do it in your pants, that's your problem."
President: "Take him to the bathroom upstairs."
Karl: "How kind you are to animals."
Piggy pulled Ebiel by his hair and forced him to stand: "Let's go, move."
As Ebiel passed by the President, he stopped suddenly. He turned toward him, his eyes staring into his face despite the pain.
Ebiel in a quiet voice: "I need to tell you something."
President: "What?"
Ebiel didn't wait for an answer. He lunged forward, slamming his forehead into the President's face. The sound of cracking filled the room, and the President fell to the ground, blood streaming from his broken nose, writhing in pain.
Ebiel laughed loudly: "Hahahahahahahahahahaha!"
Piggy lunged at him: "What did you do, you fucking bastard!"
Piggy and Karl rained down kicks and punches on Ebiel. Each kick shook his thin body, but he didn't stop laughing until he fell silent, on the edge of death.
Karl pulled out his gun, his face burning with rage.
President, holding himself together, wiping blood from his face: "Easy... I need him alive. He's important."
They dragged Ebiel and threw him back into the cell like a living corpse.
Thomas: "What happened?"
Ebiel in a hoarse voice, a choked laugh: "I broke their leader's nose... hahahahahahaha."
Thomas laughed despite everything: "Hahahahahahaha... but you're suffering... hahahahahahaha."
In the cell, between the darkness and the damp, their laughter echoed off the walls like a silent challenge.
One Hour Earlier – A Street Near Charming
One hour before Nero reached the back streets of Charming, the President of the Lucifer Club walked down a main street outside the city. His steps were confident, slow, as if the street belonged to him. His features were cold behind his black sunglasses, a burning cigarette between his lips. The leather jacket he wore bore the club's emblem: a demon with outstretched wings.
He stopped in front of a black car parked by the curb. He tapped on the window with his finger... once... twice.
The window rolled down slowly. Nothing appeared but a hand holding a cigarette, and half a face shrouded in shadow.
Voice from inside the car: "You have something that belongs to me... Kenny?"
Kenny took the cigarette from his mouth, a faint smile: "Something that belongs to you?... What? You got your money in full like we agreed."
Person in the car: "Doctor Fighter."
Kenny raised an eyebrow: "We don't have anyone by that name."
Person in the car: "Then you have someone without introductions. I want him. And I'll waive your taxes."
Kenny laughed bitterly: "You call them taxes? Call them money you skim off us as you please. And we're the ones running this business, suffering for it."
Person in the car: "Not my problem... We're making a deal now... or you want to move to the next stage?"
Kenny was silent for a few seconds. Then he extended his hand to the window.
Kenny: "Congratulations on our new deal."
He shook the hand that came out of the car, then walked away without looking back.
+1h
In one of the back streets of Charming, the kind only known by those who had lived there, Nero parked his old car. The place was quiet, but the quiet here didn't mean peace—it meant danger was asleep, and hadn't woken yet.
No sooner had he killed the engine than he scanned the scene ahead. Moments later, a young man emerged from the shadows. He wore only pants, the rest of his body covered in tattoos that told the story of his gang. He walked slowly toward the car, with the arrogance of someone who knew he was in his territory.
Young man: "Stop, old man! Where you going? Turn back."
Nero didn't answer. He opened the door quietly, got out, and stood in front of the young man, who was a few centimeters taller. He looked at him from under his brows.
Then Nero moved fast. One punch to the young man's face sent him staggering, then he grabbed him by his shirt and pressed his gun against his ear.
Nero in a cold voice, close to his ear: "Where's your leader?"
From the alleys, young men began pouring out. Some carried baseball bats, others makeshift rifles. One of them shouted: "Let him go! Let him go!"
The noise grew. Nero raised his gun to the sky and fired a shot, the sound echoing off the walls.
Nero: "Shut up or I blow his head off. Where's your leader?"
Silence for a moment, then one of the members said: "Alright... follow me."
Nero followed him through the narrow alleys, the young men forming an unspoken ring around him. They reached a modest house made of red brick, a rusty iron door.
The member entered, and five minutes later, the leader came out. He carried an AK-47 on his shoulder as if it were part of his body, his face covered in scars, his eyes showing no fear.
Crazy 8 (Leader of The Serpents gang): "Which bastard dared?!"
Nero stepped forward, his expression unchanged: "Me, Crazy 8."
Crazy 8 stopped. He looked at Nero, then at the young men around him. Slowly, he lowered his weapon and handed it to one of his men.
Crazy 8: "Nero... man, is that you?"
He walked toward Nero, a wide smile on his scarred face. But Nero didn't smile. He released the young man he'd been holding, holstered his gun, and stepped forward.
They embraced like two men who had known each other for a long time.
Crazy 8: "That's really you! Man, it's been a long time. Come inside... Boys, get some beer, we've got an important guest tonight."
They sat at a wooden table, two bottles of beer in front of them. Crazy 8 took a long sip, then set the bottle down.
Crazy 8: "What brought you here? Don't tell me you want back in the game."
Nero laughed sarcastically: "No... I'm old."
Crazy 8: "Old and you did what you did to my boys this morning?"
They laughed together.
Crazy 8: "Money?"
Nero: "No... just questions."
Crazy 8: "Like what?"
Nero took out his phone, opened a video: "Watch this clip carefully."
Crazy 8 watched the video, his expression slowly changing. He handed the phone back to Nero.
Crazy 8: "I've seen it. Those are members of the Lucifer Club. A club that's been expanding fast lately. Drugs, weapons... sons of bitches."
Nero: "Thanks for the beer."
He stood. Crazy 8 looked at him, puzzled: "Where you going? We missed you."
Nero: "Personal business. I'll let you know when I'm done."
Crazy 8 stood, slapped him hard on the shoulder: "Take care of yourself... and don't disappear on us again."
The SAMCRO Clubhouse
In the club's main headquarters, where men gathered and life-changing decisions were made, night had stretched across the walls. Around the large wooden table sat Chibs, Tig, and the rest of the members. Empty bottles were scattered around, the air thick with heavy anticipation.
Tig placed his elbow on the table, looking at Chibs with narrowed eyes: "You told me you came back for something important. Time to tell all of us."
Chibs took a sip of whiskey, then set the glass down quietly. He looked at the faces around him: Danger, the bald one who resembled Happy; Forrest, the handsome one whose features hid a strange story; Bishop, the tall one with the scar who didn't speak much; Skinny, the thin one whose build betrayed that he'd once been a boxer.
Chibs's voice rose slightly, carrying a new edge: "Ebiel and Thomas."
A profound silence. Even the air seemed to stop.
Tig: "Jax's boys?"
Chibs: "They visited me every day. Two days ago... they disappeared."
He breathed deeply. His breaths came out with difficulty.
Chibs: "Ebiel told me he got into it with some guys wearing leather jackets... with a demon patch."
He stared at Tig, then at the others one by one.
Chibs: "Who else around here wears that patch?"
Tig answered slowly, his face hardening like stone: "Lucifer."
Danger shook his head: "The Lucifer Club? Those guys are crazy. They've been expanding fast."
Bishop slammed his fist on the table, making the bottles rattle: "Doesn't matter. If they're the ones who took Jax's boys..."
Forrest smiled, but his smile was cold as ice: "Then they better get ready for hell."
Chibs stood slowly. In his silence were decisions that couldn't be undone.
Chibs: "Jax was my friend. He was my brother. And what's left of him in Ebiel and Thomas... I'm not going to let it die."
He reached his hand to the table, picked up his gun, and tucked it into his belt.
Chibs: "Tonight... we go get Jax's boys."
End of Chapter 12