The previous night on the phone Sig and Vi organised to meet in a cafe right across the road from Kelly Campbell’s electoral office in Hawksburry. They had no plans to storm the man, or bash in his door, in fact they knew the chances of the fat and balding pork barrelling politician even being in his office were slim because he lived three suburbs away and preferred his company to come from a more upper class crowd than the one he supposedly served. The reason they chose the cafe they did was simple, they liked the coffee there and it was close to Vi’s house.

While they sat in the cafe talking Sig unboxed and unwrapped a new mobile phone. It was a not a fancy smart phone, it was simply a phone that could make calls and receive messages and he’d chosen it because it was cheap. If he ever found his other phone he would happily dump the cheap phone, but he refused to by another $500 phone for he felt it was a surefire way of finding the lost one and leaving him with two expensive phones he didn’t like.

“So what are we going to do about that big tub of lard over there?” Vi asked pointing at the shop front window across the road where there was a larger that life screen printed head of Kelly Campbell.

“Stick him in the fry pan and turn on into liquid?” Sig replied, laughing at his own joke more than Vi did.

“I’m serious the fat prick needs to pay for what he had done to you.”

“Well we can’t very well just go in there and nut the prick because we knows he had a hand in the shit somewhere. We need proof that he was involved.”

There was a noise outside Sig didn’t take any notice of because he was deep in thought, but Vi did. “There is your proof right there.”

Vi pointed across the road and suddenly Sig realised what she was talking about. Two motorbikes had pulled up on the footpath on the opposite side of the road. They weren’t the noisiest of bikes but they were clearly not road bikes either and the two men climbing of them were not wearing full body leathers and the other safety gear you saw most riders wearing. The two riders on the opposite side of the road were wearing denim jackets with leather sleeves and they were wearing the bucket type helmet often seen in television shows like Sons Of Anarchy.

From the distance they were from the two bike riders Sig and Vi could not see the frayed holes in the grease stained denim jeans or, the scuffed leather of the black knee high riding boots. They also couldn’t see the single badge sewn on the left hand chest of each of rider’s jackets, but they also didn’t need to see that badge to know that embroidered on each one was the word “PROSPECT”. Both men dropped their bucket helmets on the rear of their bikes and disappeared into Kelly Campbell’s office.

“As much as it’s damning to us, two bikies walking into a politician’s office really isn’t the smoking gun we need. Even the fact that they are barely hiding their gang colours, they are Prospects, the gang would deny any involvement even if the media decided to run with the story.” Sig replied not paying a great deal of attention to the two bikies but to his new phone instead.

“It’s got to be worth something.” Vi said.

“Well to us it is, but what can we do about it. I’m not about to go over there and ask a couple of wannabes why them or their mates threw me off a roof. I don’t think that would be a good career goal for me.” Sig paused in thought for a second then added. “Even if Lard Arse is there it’s not like they’d be discussing future plans to take care of the guy they failed to kill a few months ago. They are prospects, they’ll be doing little more than passing on messages. If we went in there now it might reveal that I suspect more than I told the cops.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Vi said, “and the way that fucking Roadson prick carried on I wouldn’t mind betting that both Kelly and his mates know exactly what you’ve reported to the police about the accident.”

“Yes, seems like a given to me.” Sig took a large sip of his coffee then said. “We need more evidence and we need some kind of plan. Upsetting the prick’s apple cart at a public meeting or in front of the cameras is no longer enough. We need them all to listen. We need them to listen enough that even the Devil Dogs know that any form of retaliation is not worth their trouble.”

Sig and Vi fell easily into a conversation about what their next moves could be or what their plans should include. By the time they were finished their coffee they didn’t have any solid plans but they did have pieces of plans that could work. Sig’s general thought was that the Devil Dogs were not his main concern, they might be happy to do some of Kelly’s bidding because of the family connection but they stood to gain very little whether the politician remained elected or not because he was little more than a small pawn in the big game of chess that was Australian politics. He could start a motion, he could plead for things to be changed but unless all of his party agreed with him he had no power to enact anything. In fact the risk to Kelly for being caught associating with an outlaw motorcycle gang far outstripped anything either side could possibly gain.

By the time bikkies left Sig and Vi still had nothing more than empty coffee cups.

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