Themis and Artie arrived at the clubhouse last, judging by the bikes parked outside. The van was still there, unmoved since the night before, but the Dodge was gone. Artie did not waste her chance to take advantage, stealing Dinah’s spot. It only saved them a few steps until they got to the clubhouse, but the prestige of the third-in-command’s spot was invaluable. They parked and entered the clubhouse, greeted by Rita behind the bar. She looked paler than usual, but outside of that the party the night before didn’t seem to have affected her in the slightest. The rest of the bar was empty, Themis sighed in relief that Raven wasn’t around.
The door to the hof was open, and there was chatter heard from the inside. They entered, Themis closing the door behind her. Her hair was on the side of the table this time, next to Minhua. Dinah’s seat was unsurprisingly empty. The girls said their greetings and the chatter continued on for a few minutes. The rest of the club looked miserable, as if they had just dragged themselves out of bed; outfits thrown together, ruffled hair, and competing on whose sunglasses could block the most light. Finally, Odin put an end to the noise with a soft smack of her gavel, not daring to deliver anything stronger and hurt herself and her club.
“Alright, ladies,” Odin said. “Let’s get this shit over with and go on with our lives. Carmen, where do we stand with the Two Timers?”
“I brought Franco around, despite his brass’ disagreements,” Carmen said. “He’ll cut us in. We agreed with ten percent for the first run. But he needs a gesture of good will first, pro bono.”
“What is it?” Odin asked.
“They got a shipment coming,” the Road Captain said back. “And they need muscle. Dinah and I can take care of it.”
“Dinah is not around,” Katrine reminded her.
The hof felt quiet for a moment. Assignments like that were Carmen and Dinah’s bread and butter; too simple to fuck up but promising a good chance for a fight. The rest of the club were not as excited to stand around a cold port in the middle of the night, looking over their shoulders for danger. There was a window there, an opportunity for Themis to step up and prove herself to the club.
“I can do it,” Themis jumped on the opportunity. As one the rest of the club turned to her, as if they had forgotten she was even there. Odin in particular did not seem happy with her speaking up.
“What kind of money are we looking for from the run?” the President asked.
Katrine shifted through a stack of papers, finding one she had scribbled numbers on. She cleared her throat and said: “From what Carmen told me, the Timers sell upstate for seven fifty per brick. Seven of us can run ten kilos each comfortably, meaning fifty two and a half thousand in our pocket for a weekend’s work. And if it goes well…”
“We can renegotiate,” Odin finished her sentence. “Very well. Is there gonna be any… complications with the shipment?”
“They assured me it’s just for appearances,” Carmen said. “We’ll just be there, to show strength. A preventative measure.”
“And you trust him?”
“Fuck no,” the Captain said with a grin. “There are always complications.”
“Let me sit on this.”
“Fair enough.”
Odin brought her hands up to take her glasses off briefly and rub her eyes. “Alright. Minhua?”
“There is too much trash, I’m still shifting through it,” Minhua sighed. “I should have something in a few days. Next week at the latest.”
“Alright, then. Keep at it,” Odin shook her head. “Artie, I want you to check on Dinah, help her out if she needs anything. After that I want you to pass by my house, Samantha needs help with the renovations.”
“Got it,” Artie said, wincing at the thought of spending her evening knocking down drywall and huffing paint fumes.
“Anything else?” the President asked. Gail raised her arm, but a kick to the shin under table made her reconsider.
“Alright, meeting adjourned. Get the fuck out,” Odin said, smacking the gavel.
The meeting broke and the women hastily emptying the room out. Odin, like usual, was the last one to leave, locking the door behind her with the only key that she kept on her person. Everyone went in their own direction, with Katrine heading straight for the bar, Minhua leaving right away and Odin walking all the way to the lounge and sinking on one of the couches.
Artie grabbed Carmen near the exit and the women whispered conspiratorially, stealing glances of Themis as they did. She decided to join Katrine, and ordered a beer from Rita. It was quiet, soft music playing from the speakers as the sound of a bottlecap being cracked open was a sound for sore ears. Unfortunately peace was not made to last.
Themis only had the time for a single swig, before Carmen parked her substantial behind to the next stool over. She slapped the counter, ordering a beer for herself, as she turned her attention to Themis.
“Hi, Themis,” she said, in a sing-song voice. “What you doin’?”
“What’s it look like?” Themis shrugged. “Talking to a fussy womanchild.”
“Oh, that's real classy. Getting back at me for all the hazing I put you through, huh? You are just like your sister.”
“I’m taking that as a compliment,” Themis said, taking another sip.
“Take it however you want.”
Rita took her sweet time placing a still sealed beer in front of Carmen, who used one of her rings to pop the cap. She kicked back about a third of it in one go, before exhaling with satisfaction. Themis made the mistake of hoping that she was safe, only for Carmen to turn her attention back to her.
“Hey,” she said.
“What?”
“Get up. I need to show you something.”