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🕑 Added 2025-04-16 08:06:27 +0000 UTCWind in the Smoke
Chapter 183 - The Serbians
During the time SAMCRO had been working to take control of the streets, groups known as meth labs started popping up, usually in neighborhoods where security was practically non-existent.
To solve this problem, Dante hired certain individuals tasked with cleaning the garbage out of those houses in exchange for protection.
In other words, SAMCRO authorized robberies in these kinds of houses, allowing the intruders to take whatever they wanted—as long as they left something behind for the police to arrest the criminals.
It was working quite well. The police usually handled those small cases, and crime had significantly dropped. In no time, SAMCRO managed to gain full control of the streets.
However, one issue remained out of their control—a group known as The Mayans MC, who had begun trafficking coke from Mexican suppliers hiding from a visit by Felipe Lobos.
This group had allied with The Niners, a gang of African American criminals SAMCRO had clashed with in the past—especially during the fight for control of California’s weapons trafficking.
And now, another group had emerged—the Irish Kings, a network of Irish drug traffickers who had become quite a thorn in the side.
The Irish had connections to both arms and drug trafficking that disrupted SAMCRO’s business. These issues wouldn’t have existed had Dante not implemented a new chain of command where violence was the absolute last resort.
Nowadays, gangs in territories untouched by SAMCRO had started joining forces—and rumors suggested some even had connections with the DEA.
That’s why Dante decided he would take care of the Serbians before making any other move.
…
In a secluded mansion far from the city, a convoy of trucks emerged onto a lonely road.
“This where that pig lives?” Dante’s calm gaze from behind his mask showed indifference as he awaited a concise answer. Truth be told, he didn’t like these methods, but there wasn’t much choice now that the flies were starting to gather.
“This is the place. We have top-quality intel that he’s hiding here.” Crocodile, Dante’s right-hand man, was confident Minic was holed up in the mansion—and that today, they’d finally put an end to the Serbians in the city.
“Alright then. Before we meet with that FBI director, begin the operation.”
“As you command.” Crocodile stepped out of the vehicle and, along with the assault team, moved away from the convoy Dante was traveling in.
He didn’t like doing things this way, but he’d rather clean up the mess here than risk war in broad daylight in the city. He already had enough problems.
…
About thirty minutes later and a few kilometers away, an elite team was on the move.
“Zz… Entering the mansion!”
A group of men in black tactical combat gear entered through the backyard of the massive three-story mansion. Scanning their surroundings, they spotted a trio of dogs watching them. One soldier stepped forward and fired a series of tranquilizer darts.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
As the dart pierced the dog’s chest, it collapsed. The team moved forward. When they reached the door, Crocodile—leading the op—peeked inside and reported via radio:
“Zz… Cutting power. Three, two, one… Go!”
Boom!
With a blast at the door, the group stormed the building, sweeping each area before advancing.
“What was that explosion?” Jason, who was receiving a weekly business update after Dan’s arrival in the city, jumped at the sudden noise.
“Sounds like it came from the front door… Hold on, can anyone get a signal?” One of Jason’s men grabbed a radio but found interference. His eyes darted around to the other guards.
“Who’s going to check?”
One man turned on the radio, trying to communicate as he approached the entrance—only to hear footsteps. A split second later, bullets tore through his head.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The men behind him felt something hot splash across their faces. When they touched it, they realized it was thick blood.
“No way…”
“Who the hell are you?”
Crocodile, having identified the targets, didn’t waste time.
“Shoot everyone but the man. No witnesses.”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
As everyone was gunned down without a chance to react, Crocodile walked up to the table where Jason stared at him fearlessly.
“Seems like this is the only way you bastards can get things done.”
“We’re both evil men. Wouldn’t you agree?”
The barrage of bullets was relentless. Anything in their path was riddled with holes, ensuring nothing would rise again easily.
“Zz… Crocodile, the place seems to be under police surveillance.”
“Zz… We need to hurry. Detectives might be nearby.”
The first team held the lower floors while others pushed upstairs to clear the rest.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“AAAAHHHH!!!”
Boom!
Crocodile turned his head toward the second floor, just in time to see two of his soldiers hurled into a wall by some unknown force.
“Zz… Team One, seal the exits. We’ll burn this place to the ground.”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The mission had turned dangerously unpredictable. Following protocol, Crocodile called for backup from other sources—ones that would only be deployed if their special skills were truly needed.
And clearly, they were now needed.
“Seems you didn’t play your cards right,” Jason grinned wickedly. “To beat the Sons of Anarchy, I had to make a deal with the DEA, you sick son of a bitch.”
“Zz… Multiple helicopters inbound. You’re surrounded.”
Crocodile’s expression remained unchanged. He wasn’t worried. He waited for the interference to clear before making a call.
“Boss, the DEA’s here.”
“Zz… I’ll make a call.”
A few minutes later, the helicopters circling the mansion backed off slightly. DEA agents entered—but not to arrest SAMCRO.
Instead, Jason watched in horror as his own bloodstained men were cuffed.
“Sorry, but our boss has better connections.” Crocodile smirked at the DEA agents, then exited the mansion—taking Jason with him, of course.
Jason, furious, noticed a pistol on one of the agents escorting him. He managed to grab it.
“What the hell are you doing?!”
“You’re not taking me to him. I won’t give him that satisfaction.”
Bang!
Jason pulled the trigger on himself.
Crocodile, stunned by the unexpected turn, looked at the agent.
“What the hell was that?”
“He was crazy. You expecting that?”
“No… not really…” Crocodile picked up the radio and spoke:
“Zz… The pigeon’s down. Took his own life.”
“Return. Now.”
Comments
Nato J
Seems criminals are starting to smarten up and means Dante needs to up his game if he wants to stay ahead in the underworld.
