Read Online Enforcer by Caesar Campbell, Donna Campbell - Free Book Online
Authors: Caesar Campbell, Donna Campbell
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bricks and half a sleeper to weigh it down. Mad Dog headed back up the street, through the main shopping centre of Ashfield, over to Summer Hill, and down to the railway line, extending the scratch mark through several suburbs to put any coppers off the scent. Satisfied he’d created enough confusion he retrieved his rope and zotted back to Bull’s.
A week later, we were down the Empire Hotel at Annandale and there was a fair-sized bloke in there with a real nice blonde. Mad Dog went up and was trying to crack onto the blonde. The bloke told him to piss off, but Mad Dog looked over at me and Lurch and said something to the bloke. The bloke looked at me and Lurch. You could see he wanted to smash Mad Dog but he wasn’t going to take us on. I said to Lurch, ‘Let’s go and stand round behind the partition where they can’t see us.’
So we moved behind the partition, but Mad Dog didn’t see us go, and he was still yak-yak-yakking on to this sheila. He turned and said something to the bloke, then looked over his shoulder only to see we’d gone. He hit the toe and was out of the pub.
At the next meeting I said to Bull, ‘Mad Dog’s just never gunna make it. If youse want him to hang round to do the dirty work, watch the bikes and go for food and that sort of stuff, you’re really not doing him a service because he’s gunna think he’ll eventually get in, and he’s never gunna get in.’
My brothers might have been looking for fighters, but one thing I judged people on was that if you picked a fight, you had to back it up. If anyone hanging round the club was the sort of bloke who walked into a pub looking for a fight only because he had the back-up of the rest of the club, I’d get rid of him. Those blokes are nothing but trouble.
I WAS out for a ride when I saw these four blokes pull over an old fella driving an FB Holden. The four blokes were slapping him round the car so I pulled over and started smashing them. One of them got me a beauty in the kidneys with a baseball bat before I managed to drop them all. My back was aching as I turned to the old fella, ‘Are you all right?’
He said, ‘Bikie scum.’
Nice.
If I’d been wearing a suit the old fella would probably have thought I was the greatest bloke in the world. But because I had my cut-off on and the tatts, and my long hair and bandana, I was the bad guy.
I got back to the bike, and it took a young sheila of about eighteen to help me lift my leg over the bike. That’s how bad my back was. When I got home Donna had to come out and help me off the bike. I ended up in the hospital; I was pissing blood, the whole bit.
***
F OR FOUR or five weeks, everywhere I went people were telling me that the Hells Angels were looking for me. I was riding down Parramatta Road at Annandale with Donna when I saw some bikes with death heads on them parked outside the Empire Hotel. I’m not one to run from a fight so I pulled in and we went upstairs to the lounge.
There was this big bloke playing pool, his vest slung over a chair. On its back were the words Hells Angels Sydney . He put his vest on and introduced himself as Guitar. He knew who I was. We started talking and as usual it turned out only to be rumours of any trouble between our clubs. He brought over five of his brothers and we chatted for about twenty minutes before I left.
A couple of nights later I was sitting at the bar of the James Craig Tavern at Birkenhead Point when Guitar walked through the doors. Bull and Chop grabbed him and were about to punch him when Guitar called out to me. I told them to let him go.
‘What are you doing here?’ I asked him.
‘Me old lady has just started work in the kitchen,’ he said.
I got Shadow to hop the bar and go out to the kitchen. Sure enough, Guitar’s old lady Joan was working there, so I said, ‘That’s fair enough, you can come here anytime you want. D’ya want a drink?’
‘Yeah, I’ll have a Jim Beam,’ he said. ‘Whadda you
A week later, we were down the Empire Hotel at Annandale and there was a fair-sized bloke in there with a real nice blonde. Mad Dog went up and was trying to crack onto the blonde. The bloke told him to piss off, but Mad Dog looked over at me and Lurch and said something to the bloke. The bloke looked at me and Lurch. You could see he wanted to smash Mad Dog but he wasn’t going to take us on. I said to Lurch, ‘Let’s go and stand round behind the partition where they can’t see us.’
So we moved behind the partition, but Mad Dog didn’t see us go, and he was still yak-yak-yakking on to this sheila. He turned and said something to the bloke, then looked over his shoulder only to see we’d gone. He hit the toe and was out of the pub.
At the next meeting I said to Bull, ‘Mad Dog’s just never gunna make it. If youse want him to hang round to do the dirty work, watch the bikes and go for food and that sort of stuff, you’re really not doing him a service because he’s gunna think he’ll eventually get in, and he’s never gunna get in.’
My brothers might have been looking for fighters, but one thing I judged people on was that if you picked a fight, you had to back it up. If anyone hanging round the club was the sort of bloke who walked into a pub looking for a fight only because he had the back-up of the rest of the club, I’d get rid of him. Those blokes are nothing but trouble.
I WAS out for a ride when I saw these four blokes pull over an old fella driving an FB Holden. The four blokes were slapping him round the car so I pulled over and started smashing them. One of them got me a beauty in the kidneys with a baseball bat before I managed to drop them all. My back was aching as I turned to the old fella, ‘Are you all right?’
He said, ‘Bikie scum.’
Nice.
If I’d been wearing a suit the old fella would probably have thought I was the greatest bloke in the world. But because I had my cut-off on and the tatts, and my long hair and bandana, I was the bad guy.
I got back to the bike, and it took a young sheila of about eighteen to help me lift my leg over the bike. That’s how bad my back was. When I got home Donna had to come out and help me off the bike. I ended up in the hospital; I was pissing blood, the whole bit.
***
F OR FOUR or five weeks, everywhere I went people were telling me that the Hells Angels were looking for me. I was riding down Parramatta Road at Annandale with Donna when I saw some bikes with death heads on them parked outside the Empire Hotel. I’m not one to run from a fight so I pulled in and we went upstairs to the lounge.
There was this big bloke playing pool, his vest slung over a chair. On its back were the words Hells Angels Sydney . He put his vest on and introduced himself as Guitar. He knew who I was. We started talking and as usual it turned out only to be rumours of any trouble between our clubs. He brought over five of his brothers and we chatted for about twenty minutes before I left.
A couple of nights later I was sitting at the bar of the James Craig Tavern at Birkenhead Point when Guitar walked through the doors. Bull and Chop grabbed him and were about to punch him when Guitar called out to me. I told them to let him go.
‘What are you doing here?’ I asked him.
‘Me old lady has just started work in the kitchen,’ he said.
I got Shadow to hop the bar and go out to the kitchen. Sure enough, Guitar’s old lady Joan was working there, so I said, ‘That’s fair enough, you can come here anytime you want. D’ya want a drink?’
‘Yeah, I’ll have a Jim Beam,’ he said. ‘Whadda you
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