The police spent most of their time dealing with parking offences, low-level drug dealing and burglaries of rarely used second homes. Even the Brigands knew better than to piss in their own backyard and usually kept whatever trouble they caused behind the high fences of their clubhouse. A burned out house with five bodies inside was the biggest crime in decades. Twenty-six-year-old constable Kate McLaren had never known anything like it. The media had poured into the area, split between the crime scene and the car park around Kingsbridge police station four miles away. Photographers, journalists and TV vans fitted with satellite dishes were double parked in the street awaiting a press conference.

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Its agents are aged between ten and seventeen years. Cherubs are mainly orphans who have been taken out of care homes and trained to work undercover. Quite a lot. NAVY is a reward for outstanding performance on a single mission. Part One 1. There were dozens of clubs just like it: mean dudes on big bikes, oozing menace and scaring regular citizens.

As he cruised Los Angeles freeways on his Harley Davidson, Kurt Oxford never could have imagined that his motorcycle club would one day have seventy chapters spanning the United States and a hundred more, from Sydney to Scandinavia. In , Brigands membership was estimated at more than three thousand full-patch members, and ten times that number of associates and hangers-on. Their clubhouse was a creaky affair, converted out of a pair of barns on fifteen acres close to the wealthy enclave of Salcombe.

He liked hanging out with his dad at the Brigands clubhouse, which was usually on Wednesday and Friday nights when his mum drove to Plymouth for evening classes. Dante would get behind the wheel of a wrecked Ford and pretend to drive, or make a ramp with bits of rotting wood and send empty beer kegs crashing down the hill. Mostly there were other kids around. Best of all was when Teeth came and coached kids in the boxing ring. None of the Brigands were exactly teddy bears, but Teeth looked scary even by their standards.

Huge and muscular, he wore sharp spurs on the back of his boots and greasy jeans held up with a length of bike chain that could be ripped out and used to beat the shit out of anyone who messed with him. Biker names were usually ironic. Little George was the size of a house, Fats as thin as a rake and Teeth had nothing but squishy gums and a couple of brown molars at the back.

Dante asked one time and Teeth just said, you should have seen the state of the other guy. Teeth was a nightclub bouncer with a sideline in drug dealing, but he wanted to be a pro wrestler. Teeth would take Dante and any other boys who were interested into the big room at the back of the main barn which contained an ancient boxin g ring with frayed ropes and a warped floor. Every Brigand in the world has to attend a Wednesday-night clubhouse meeting known as church.

There were always other kids around. Joe was always there. Dante and Joe were in Year Four at the same school and they were good mates. On this particular Wednesday the pair had stuffed themselves with chicken wings, cocktail sausages, oven chips and cola before each getting a hard smack and a threat of worse to come after dumping an older girl called Isobel into a puddle by the line of motorbikes out front.

This got repetitive after a while, so Dante and Joe were pleased when church ended and Teeth came out of the meeting room. Most of the Brigands joined the women and club associates at the bar, but Teeth sauntered past the pool table and blinking fruit machine to stick his head between the elasticised ropes of the boxing ring and give the two eight-year-olds high fives. The two eight-year-olds were covered with grime and dust off the floor of the ring.

They had bright red faces and glistening brows. Both boys groaned. Play nicely. The two men had been holed up in the club office for more than an hour after church finished. Scotty was a big man, thirty-four years old, square jaw, rugged looking and with the same tangled red hair as his son. Short and squat, with a titchy Hitler moustache and his arms fully inked with tattoos.

His bald head and fat belly meant that Dante could never look at him without being reminded of a bowling pin. Then he turned to Teeth. Sandra and the other teenage girl backed off as Martin got bundled against the wall. He turned towards Teeth and Scotty and began an explanation. Can you imagine that? My son, the school punchbag. So I brought him down here tonight and told him to get Teeth to show him some moves.

So what does he do? Four or five sessions will teach you enough to stick up for yourself. Pay off the bully with a bag of sweeties? He moaned as his hip slammed down on the planks. So he grabbed him around the waist and pulled him down off the ropes.

Scotty and another biker waded in to help.


Brigands M.C.

After moving in with a foster family, a Dutch member of another Brigands chapter attempts to murder Dante with a bomb inside the controller of a remote-controlled toy car on his birthday. Shaken, Dante moves in under the care of Ross again. Four and a half years later, biker Neil Smith tries to join Brigands M. Meanwhile, James purchases a new bike and is invited on a run with the Brigands to the Rebel Tea Party, a motorcycle convention in Cambridge. On the run, the Brigands are attacked by rival gang the Vengeful Bastards and James saves the life of Brigand Dirty Dave when a member of the Vengefuls tries to stab him with a sharpened hammer. After he and Nigel help the Brigands in smuggling arms into Britain, Julian gets scared and confesses to his father, who is a judge. James and Kerry start dating again.


Brigands M.C. (2009)

Its agents are aged between ten and seventeen years. Cherubs are mainly orphans who have been taken out of care homes and trained to work undercover. Quite a lot. NAVY is a reward for outstanding performance on a single mission. Part One 1.



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