Saints & Sinners

By Jack Dalton

From helicopters in Vietnam to Harleys on the homefront, "Saints & Sinners" is the amazing, riveting memoir of one man's survival as he battle the demons of war.

Four decades later Luke Gavin opens up about his hair-raising experiences. Haunted by vivid dreams of his Vietnam tour as a teenage paratrooper, he immersed himself in the wild lifestyle of an outlaw motorcycle club.

While others chased wealth by dealing drugs, Luke pursued his passion in life of beautiful women.

With his close friend Casey, a powerful Marine veteran, and an assortment of other young men at similar loose ends, the Pagan motorcycle club wreaked havoc on the streets of New Jersey.

Booze and drugs fueled the bonhomie of the Pagans but also took a heavy toll. "Death or jail" was one of their mottoes, and those were increasingly the fates of Luke's comrades. When the club wasn't battling other biker clubs, they often battled among themselves.

And while Luke struggled with his memories, his surprising survival continued to plague his mind. Meanwhile renegade chemists were busy cooking up ever more lethal and potent drugs, and a Pagan leader was making millions running an enormous drug operation that threatened the lives of thousands.

When Luke came to realize that he was the only one who could bring down the drug kingpin, he knew he faced one more life-or-death mission.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Saints and Sinners LLC
• Release date: Mar 6, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386874980

Jack Dalton

Jack Dalton is a proud veteran of the Vietnam conflict. This is his first novel half a century after his return from the battlefield. He hopes that readers will come to realize how traumatic war can be and how difficult the adjustment to civilian life can be.

Book preview

From the fury of the pagan deliver us, o lord.

Chapter 1

The A Shau Valley, Viet Nam

As Luke Gavin stared out the window of his city apartment, he finished his red wine and put out his cigarette. It had been a long day, and now he was tired, but as he closed his eyes, he was wary of sleep.

For with sleep came dreams.

He felt the now familiar awareness of his subconscious mind’s desire to take him to a tumultuous time that seemed so long ago, yet was so recent. For dreams have no barriers, they know no distance and are timeless and at times formidable.

To fight it was futile, so he relinquished all resistance as the vessel of his mind transported him from consciousness to the place of dreams where he would encounter his past and confront his enemies.

The first shades of dawn captivated the young paratroopers. Their view of the A Shau Valley wasn’t the Viet Nam most Americans saw on the six o’clock news. Their view included a mile-wide carpet of elephant grass bottomland, flanked by lush tree-lined mountains standing thousands of feet high.

A cool breeze brought an aroma so sweet, so foreign to these young soldiers, one could not blame them for being seduced by the valley’s pristine beauty and mystique.

Luke Gavin watched as Cpl. Mancini made coffee in his steel helmet and offered him some. It was barely warm, but after a cold night on the hill it was good.

Mancini stood watching the sun peek over the emerald hills and observed, Great artist.

The sunrises in Viet Nam were spectacular and at times looked to be at the beginning of creation.

But the soldiers maintained their vigilance, never forgetting that despite its beauty, the A Shau Valley was the deadliest place in Viet Nam. The North Vietnamese army owned it, and they liked playing king of the hill with the American troops. Good men broke from being there.

As the two soldiers checked their gear getting ready to go back out into the jungle, Luke couldn’t help thinking that he only had two weeks left of his tour in Viet Nam, yet he was aware that any hour, any day could be his last in this country.

He had survived the Tet offensive, lived through fire fights and missions as a helicopter door gunner and braved everything the enemy threw at him, but he knew his luck was running out. His Irish heritage was deep rooted in superstition and luck, and on this beautiful morning Luke felt an eerie calm as he geared up ready to go back out with Mancini, who was the forward observer for the artillery battery that was positioned behind them on top of the hill. Luke’s assignment was to protect Mancini as he picked out targets for the five howitzers that would rain down shells once the targets were acquired.

As the soldiers prepared to move out, Luke donned his helmet and motioned to Mancini to start down the small path that would take them into the jungle. They did not get far but were stopped in their tracks by the familiar high-pitched sound of mortar rounds cutting through the air. They dove for cover as the shells impacted behind them, only to find themselves between a frontal enemy assault and their own troops firing down the hill. They were in the worst possible position as they watched red and green tracers criss-crossing over them. As the lines closed, the battle raged higher. The fire support base was literally a powder keg with thousands of rounds of 155 mm howitzer shells stacked up in neat piles and hundreds of gallons of JP-4 helicopter jet fuel stored in large rubber bladders. With the enemy firing off rocket-propelled grenades all around, at any second the hill could turn into an inferno.

Luke turned and watched as Mancini tossed grenades down at the encroaching enemy. He saw Mancini pull a grenade pin and stand up to throw it, exposing his position. At that moment the howitzer crew fired off a flechette round point blank. The concussion from the blast knocked Mancini to the ground, and he dropped the live grenade.

Luke dashed to Mancini, tossed the grenade down the hill, then, while holding his stunned and bleeding comrade, berated him over the deafening din of the battle: Those silver wings on your chest do not make you invincible, they make you expendable.

Luke had a way of getting to the truth.

If Murphy’s law is a rule of life, it holds true threefold in combat. Suddenly Luke heard the distinctive sound of Huey helicopters coming in for a strafing run. He looked up apprehensively as the two Hueys made their quick and deadly approach above the smoke and carnage, firing their lethal weapons and closing in fast on their position.

Luke held Mancini and closed his eyes waiting for his own death in this tiny grid of longitude and latitude that was so peaceful only moments ago.

His thoughts as he anticipated the hot steel that would tear through his flesh were not fear but regret, regret that at nineteen he hadn’t had a chance to live life. He made peace with his God, wished for a temporary reprieve from his fate and vowed to Him that he would return to Viet Nam if given another chance to experience life. ...

As usual these dreams left him confused at first. Did he just have a vivid dream? Did any of this really happen? He was dazed yet wired for action. Just a moment ago he was in his jungle fatigues, holding an M16 and now he was naked, half awake and back here in the real world. Then he remembered that the answer was in the box under the bed where he always retrieved the pictures of himself and his other comrades of the Screaming Eagles. He touched the medals they had gave him, pulled out the other spoils of war and then studied the picture of Mei, the half-French half-Vietnamese women he had once loved. And only then did he realize that the hell of his dream was real and he had not only experienced it, he’d survived it.

He walked to the kitchen, opened a beer and lit a cigarette. He struggled to make sense of these memories. He felt as if he were in The Twilight Zone.

But that was just the way it was. This was the insanity that was part of him now, but he didn’t have a name for it. It’s crazy, but after facing his past, his present transition to civilian life was just as strange.

He looked over at the denim cutoff jacket hanging on the door. He stared at the patch of the Norse god, Thor, sitting on an arc of fire and wielding a sword. Above that, the word Pagans reminded him of what he had become. He was one of the leaders of the Pagans, the biggest outlaw motorcycle club on the East Coast, and he was bewildered as to how this metamorphosis had taken place.

****

In late September, New Jersey transitioned from summer to autumn. Crisp air, gray skies and leaves of a dozen shades of gold and orange decorated the area. The hordes of people who invade the Jersey Shore every summer were now gone. Solitude returned.

Today Luke was preparing to drive his chopper to Massapequa Park on Long Island to pick up Nicole and bring her back to Asbury Park for the weekend. He thought about her sexy ways and smart mind and the way she lights up a room when she walks in — and yet she was only 19.

As he started his motorcycle, riding north along the beach towards the Island, he found himself looking forward to being with Nicole. The rough surf crashed on the beach in a rhythmic pattern as he rode up the highway. It was a long ride, so there was plenty of time to let his mind wander to her, reliving the events of the chance encounter that had changed them both.

How did it go? Yeah, it all started with a phone call from Casey. Luke’s most trusted friend and confidant, Casey had called him at home in Newark to tell him that he had just stopped at a South Jersey biker bar and by coincidence he’d run into a Virginia Pagan sitting at the bar. He recognized him as Mac, a goon squad member of the West Virginia chapter.

Now Casey, a six-foot-four ex-Marine with steel gray eyes, was all business. He did a hard tour in Nam, and as a result developed a sixth sense that served him well. He knew Mac was up to no good, because out-of-state members don’t usually come to another state unannounced. Mac was a dangerous person, but not particularly smart and, after drinking several hours with Casey, had told him everything.

A while back, a couple of Long Island Pagans beat some guy to death outside a Levittown bar. Nicole, who was Tito’s old lady at the time, witnessed this. Tito and the others were locked up almost immediately, but they made bail and were out on the streets again, before the D.A.’s office realized that the only witness had been swept away.

Come down to the Inkwell in West Long Branch so we can help this girl, Casey told him. That’s all Luke knew, but he trusted Casey’s judgment. When Luke arrived, Casey filled him in on the rest of the details.

They sat down with Mac, and Luke held out some cash. I can appreciate your position, Mac. Now here’s $500. Same money Tito was going to give you for the girl. Take it and go back to West Virginia, and we’ll take care of Tito.

He looked suspiciously at Luke for a moment, but then grabbed the money and stuffed it in the front pocket of his pants. They drank their last shots and sent Mac back to West Virginia.

Now, we’ve got a little meeting to go to. Let’s get the others. Luke planned how they’d approach the situation as they drove to Spacer’s house a short distance away. They were meeting Tito and needed backup.

When they arrived, Spacer stood in the driveway with Billy and Donny, who were working on an old Chevy. These men were all a part of Luke’s inner circle. All combat vets, all Pagan brothers. They pulled up and Luke instructed, Get in. We need you for an important meeting with Tito.

They piled in the car and took off. As he drove, Casey filled them in on what was going down. They were going to surprise Tito with a visit and ruin his plans to get rid of his old lady. They passed around a bottle of Boone’s Farm and joked with each other. It felt good to be on another mission. Luke held up the bottle in a toast to his comrades: We are the calling of the hazard.

As they pulled up to Jack Peterson’s house, Luke told Casey to come inside with him, and instructed the others to stay outside in the van. When Jack opened the door, he stepped back in, surprised.

What’s the matter, Jack? Now, who’d you expect at your door? Casey asked sarcastically as he pushed the door aside. Jack was a member of the Breed motorcycle club, but he had the trust of a lot of the Pagans.

Do you know what’s going down? Luke asked Jack.

No, I don’t. I don’t know anything except a couple of brothers are meeting here.

Okay, good, that’s just what’s happening. We gave the reaper the night off.

What do you mean by that? Jack asked.

Luke studied Jack’s reactions and could see he really didn’t know the plan.

What time is Tito getting here? Casey asked.

Soon, I guess he’s late.

You don’t know why they’re coming here? Casey asked again.

"I don’t know. You know I don’t ask questions. I don’t want to know anything. All I know is they needed a place to meet and they picked me."

Just then a black sedan with two men and a young woman pulled up. Tito and Benny got out of the car and began walking to the house. Spacer and Billy came up behind them to usher them inside, while Donny stayed outside with the woman.

Tito faced Luke with a look of disgust in his eyes. What do you think you’re doing here? Anger, the kind that goes way back, began to heat up the room. Tito was totally enraged that Luke was there. Then Tito glared at Jack.

Jack didn’t tell me anything, Luke said in order to keep Jack from getting killed. "But I do know what was supposed to go down, and that’s just not going to happen." Tito’s eyes flashed with rage.

Tito looked around the room, realizing he didn’t have a chance. Benny just stood there looking down at the floor. He wasn’t going to be any help. With Casey towering over him like a Spartan warrior, he realized he was in a hopeless situation.

You look bewildered, Tito, so I took this opportunity to make some changes in your plans, Luke’s sarcasm was pissing Tito off even more. I know why you’re here and I could make things real bad for you. I mean, you coming here to my state, behind my back and all, it’s disrespectful. I know you have a little witness problem and you’re facing some hard time, but it’s not going down the way you thought. I’m taking the girl and you and your ‘girlfriend’ Benny here are going back to Long Island. She’ll be our guest in New Jersey ’til your trial is over.

Tito clenched his fists and glared at Luke, but reluctantly gave up the fight. Turning around, he said, Let’s get out of here, Benny. This fucking air’s beginning to stink. He knew them well enough to know his other option was worse than his upcoming trial. As Luke and Casey followed them out of the house, Luke noticed that Donny had moved the girl to the van.

Casey looked back, pointing his finger in Jack’s face. We weren’t here, Jack.

Yeah, yeah, no one is ever here, he grumbled and slammed the door after them.

They piled into the van, and Luke looked back at the young woman for the first time. She appeared plump and wore a dirty gray hat and scarf that covered much of her face. Her old Navy pea-coat was soiled. She reminded him of a Depression-era newsboy whose chunky body made her highly unattractive. Great, he thought, what the hell do we do with this now?

Okay, listen up. Who wants to be a babysitter for a couple of months? Luke looked at each guy thinking he could quickly resolve the problem of what to do with her.

She’s all yours, boss, Spacer snickered from the back seat. Hell, we have old ladies.

Donny, what about you? She’ll clean your bike, take care of your needs, whatever you want.

Donny fidgeted with his jacket lapel, She’s not my type, boss. I’ll pass.

Since when do you have a type, Donny?

Since tonight.

She finally spoke up from under the hat, Hey, fuck you. Who the hell do you think you are, you fucking dirt bags? Take me back to the Island. I don’t want to be with you Jersey freaks.

This is great. Just great. Another fat, ugly bitch with an attitude. You’re like an endangered species. Spacer wasn’t going to take her lip.

Like I said, fuck you. Take me back to the Island. I’d rather be in Bangladesh than Jersey, anyway, and certainly not with you creeps. She whipped off her scarf as if to make it a weapon, if she needed to.

Who you callin’ creeps? Spacer closed his fist getting ready to hit her.

Yeah, you, you fucking creep. You think you’re doing me a favor?

Luke listened to them go back and forth. She was the only one who didn’t know the twist of fate that had saved her from a nightmare journey to certain death. If Mac had taken her to West Virginia, her worst nightmare would begin. She would be drugged, gang-raped, tortured, and then killed. She’d be pushing up cotton balls somewhere in Dixieland and never be heard of again. Casey and Luke knew these things did happen, and they were determined to foil Tito’s plan.

Finally Luke interrupted, Okay, we got off to a bad start. How about you stay with me for a couple of days ’til we figure this out?

Luke knew that if she went back to the Island, she was dead. Tito wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice, but she had no idea who he was or what he was capable of doing to her. She thought Tito loved her and just wanted to keep her safe until the trial was over. She had no clue of his treachery. Now if Tito got acquitted, that was a different story. He’d have no reason to kill her.

So Luke turned back to her. How about we try to get along to make it easy on all of us. Maybe us Jersey creeps will grow on you. What’s your name?

Nicole, she replied.

Nicole what?

What are you writing a book? What difference does it make?

****

As Nicole and Luke entered his apartment, she looked around. The apartment had Day-Glo posters with black lights, a parachute draped across the ceiling with blinking Christmas lights. A Thompson machine gun protruded from under the mattress.

Real classy place you have here, she said sarcastically.

Yeah, well it’s home.

Do you mind if I smoke?

No, not at all.

She reached in her purse, lit up a joint and handed it to him.

No, I don’t like that shit, Luke said, and he walked to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of wine.

For a few minutes, he stared out the window looking over the city where he grew up, thinking, Why is God making me stay with this fat, ugly pot-smoking chick? What did I do to deserve this?

She interrupted his thoughts. May I have some wine?

Yeah, help yourself. The maid is off today,

I want yours. Her voice was bold.

Disgusted by her demanding tone, he swung around to confront this brassy bitch. He was taken aback at what he saw. She was standing there with the pile of her clothes at her feet. As he scanned her body, from the floor up, he saw a pair of slender legs, skimpy pink panties, a tiny waist and under the flimsy tee shirt she wore, he noticed the outline of a pair of perfectly shaped breasts.

She was taller than he remembered, although he’d barely looked at her before this. As his eyes continued to move up and down Nicole’s body, he was taken by her long strawberry blonde hair and stunningly beautiful face. She flashed a wicked smile, pleased at her ability to shock him in such a mischievous way.

You look surprised. Anything wrong?

Well, you look different than you did in the van.

How’s that?

I thought you were a … a fat, ugly chick with an attitude.

And now?

Oh, now I think you’re a really beautiful chick with an attitude.

She smiled again, confident of her beauty and her ability to tease this Pagan leader into submission. And he was quite a man — six feet tall with brownish blond hair. He was handsome but not a pretty boy. He carried himself like a leader of men, and she wondered if he knew his way around a woman’s body.

Luke, still dazed by the transformation, took a few steps closer. How did you do that?

Well, I’m supposed to be disguised so the cops don’t get me, right?

Yeah, right.

Luke shook his head in disbelief, musing, Whoever the guy is upstairs pulling all the strings, he must really be amusing himself at my expense, but that’s okay. Let’s just keep moving along. I’m enjoying the ride.

He was close enough to breathe in her scent. He touched the ends of her wavy hair as if to see if it was real. Nicole had that wild smell, and as they looked into each other’s eyes, the animal attraction grew. Yes, it was inevitable that he’d take her to bed. He smiled, confident in his own power to seduce. Luck was with him tonight.

****

It didn’t take long to build a bond with Nicole. Her beauty matched her personality, and her sexuality was off the charts. It seemed to Luke that every breath she took was designed for his sexual arousal. Yet in addition to Nicole’s expertise in the bedroom, she was a gentle listener and a witty, intelligent woman.

She knew that in his sleep, he would drift off to Viet Nam where he would encounter the spirits of war and perhaps negotiate a truce or find some sense of it. Every night he returned to Nam, and she’d be left behind as he entered that dream vortex. In Nam, it was said that the enemy owned the night, and it could still be said that he owned Luke’s dreams.

She felt sad for him, but he assured her everything was alright, for in Nam he was in his element and though he couldn’t explain it, he felt comfort in the dreams.

In his waking hours, the only place Luke felt totally free was on his Harley. He enjoyed the rush of riding his machine so much he’d ride through the harsh Jersey winters and, when they were together, Nicole was on the back of that Harley with her arms wrapped tightly around him, never complaining. She felt safe with him and, for now, they belonged to each other.

When they hung out with the guys from the club, Nicole kept up her charade as a fat chick. Yet, Nicole liked hanging out with them. She enjoyed the camaraderie, the friendship and the good times, as well as the bad.

Every night, something unexpected happened.

There was the night brother Rags came into the bar totally despondent. He had just been drafted into the Army and because he was enjoying life too much, he didn’t want to go. Froggy, who was a 4F himself, suggested that if Rags had a criminal record they would not take him. So after about ten gin-and-tonics a plan was devised. Rags would go down the street to the Irvington Police station and throw a rock through the window.

His brothers all gathered around him for moral support as he hurled a rock through the window and, when the cops came running out, he burned his draft card in a final act of defiance. They all cheered him on as the police dragged him into the station house, beating and kicking him the whole time. But the plan didn’t work because Rags was drafted into the Army. Once he was in, though, he decided to go airborne. He completed jump school, did a tour in Nam and went on to become one of the foremost paratroopers in the military.

Another night, Luke watched from the back of the bar as his brother, Saint James, came in drunk — looking to get drunker. Saint James did a hard tour with the 3rd Marines; he was on patrol when his squad was ambushed. He took two machine gun bullets to his legs, and still that tenacious Newark Marine crawled over and hurled a grenade into the enemy gunners, killing them. And when he was recovering from his wounds in Okinawa, he stole a jeep, got drunk and crashed it.

Now he had a metal plate and an absolute short circuit in his head. Luke’s standing orders were that when fights broke out, someone was to guard Saint James, because he could die from a blow to his head. Luke also had a lot of admiration for James and cut him a lot of slack when he screwed up, which was consistently happening.

But on this night, Saint James started taking people’s money off the bar to play the jukebox. No one seemed to mind, since he was a six-foot-three blond poster boy for the Marines. But as he put coins in the jukebox, he got increasingly agitated.

He turned to Nate, the owner of the bar, What the hell? Where are the Irish songs? It’s St. Patrick’s Day, and I can’t even find a goddamn Irish song on the jukebox.

Luke intervened on Nate’s behalf. Hey, calm down. Nate is Jewish. Maybe he forgot to get Irish songs for the jukebox. But that just infuriated Saint James even more. He fired two rounds from his Colt .45 into the box.

Nate looked like he was going to have a heart attack. Luke assured him everything would be okay. But then Saint James rallied other Pagans to roll the jukebox outside into traffic where it was hit by a car.

As always, restitution was made to Nate. But that week, when Nate ordered a new box, he also made sure he included Irish music in the record selection.

And then there was the time when the Pagans were lined up around the bar at Nate’s, drinking depth charges – in their version shots of tequila dropped into mugs of beer. The door opened, and in walked Black Bart. Now Black Bart, from Newark’s West Ward neighborhood, was known to everyone. He got his name because after he got out of the Navy, he grew a big black beard. He looked just like Popeye’s rival, Bluto.

He was a big bully to most, but was cautious around the club. But that night, he felt inclined to test the waters. He walked up to Nicole, stopped and stared, making unintelligible sounds. Standing behind Nicole, he mumbled something to her, then started walking around drinking people’s drinks on the bar.

Luke let that slide; after all, it was no big deal. But then he did the unthinkable, ripping off Luke’s screaming eagle patch from his field jacket. Luke hit the sailor with a kidney shot that buckled his knees. Then Casey, Saint James, Donny, Spacer, Luke and Mongo picked Bart up sideways and with a running start threw him head first out Nate’s big plate glass window.

The momentum was so powerful, he slid across the sidewalk and into the street, causing cars to come to a screeching halt. As the Pagans looked out the broken window, they thought Bart might be dead. But, to their surprise, he got up, dusted himself off, made some kind of hand gesture to the guy in the car who almost ran him over and walked in the side entrance of the bar.

Luke and the other Pagans welcomed Bart back in with cheers. Bart bought the bar a round of drinks and told them he wanted to be a Pagan and he would get a Harley Davidson and start as a prospect.

But that was not to be. When the bar closed, they paid Nate an inflated price for his window, and Bart decided he was going to drive his 1958 Chevy station wagon home in reverse. He was doing a pretty good job of it until he hit a big elm tree on 18th Avenue, one block from his home. He was ejected out the rear window and died immediately.

Out of respect for this neighborhood boy, the Pagans attended his wake. West Ward was like that. Everyone came to the funerals — it was a family town. Bart’s mother said she was honored that they were there and asked them to be pallbearers. They agreed and as they carried him out of Sacred Heart Church to the hearse, Luke thought how odd it was that they were in that exact formation when they heaved Bart through the window just a few days before.

There was always something going on.

The winter passed, and the first warm days of spring arrived. Tito’s trial ended in an acquittal. A month later, he and Benny were out celebrating when they left a bar. Tito was on the back of Benny’s Harley heading home when one of New York City’s finest, drunk and rushing to get to his precinct, ran into their bike. Tito was killed instantly while Benny was left as no more than a living vegetable. Luke smiled at the irony. This was an improvement in his personality. The cop didn’t know it, but it was probably the best piece of police work he’d ever do in his career.

The whole club turned out for Tito’s funeral. His adoptive parents buried him on a beautiful hilltop in Upstate New York. Luke’s Jersey chapter stayed back from the others and after the ceremony he told the chapter presidents, A couple hundred years ago, a gentleman named Longfellow said, ‘Justice renders to everyone his due.’ This is as true now as it was then.

And what’s that supposed to mean? Billy’s eyes narrowed, not getting the point.

It means just what it says. That piece of shit they just dropped in the hole got what he deserved. And if we change from who we are, we can expect the same.

On the ride back, Nicole held onto Luke. He knew she was sad Tito was gone. She must have had feelings for Tito, he thought. But Luke was glad because that cop had probably saved him from doing the job himself. As he rode on, he argued with himself about whether he should tell her the truth about Tito. How would it affect her? Would she become hard or have a drastic personality change? He felt he owed her the truth.

When they returned home, he told Nicole about Tito’s plan to have Mac take her to Virginia — and what would have happened to her. She cried. At first she was in shock, not believing this could be true. But by now she knew Luke well enough to know he would never lie to her. Luke’s hope was that this would make her smarter, not harder. He loved her exactly the way she was.

Nicole tried to sleep that night, but her sobbing kept them both awake most of the night. She turned to him. Tomorrow, can you take me back to the Island? I want to see my parents.

Of course. It’s been a long time.

In the morning, Nicole was in better spirits. He greeted his lover with coffee and a smile. Before I take you to the Island, can we stop at the clubhouse for a few minutes?

Sure, but why?

I want you to say goodbye to my crew.

Yeah, that’d be great. I would like that.

For the first time, Nicole shed her disguise for her real clothes. She threw away her pea coat, hat and baggy pants. She put on a short black skirt and tube top, boots and stockings and a red French beret. She looked hot on his bike.

The Pagans were standing around outside the clubhouse in small groups, but they turned to Luke and Nicole as they rode up.

Whoa, boss. Where you get her? Billy said.

Oh, picked her up. She was hitchhiking.

Casey nodded his approval. What’s your name?

I’m Nicole, Casey.

Nicole from the Island? Casey stepped in for a closer look.

Yeah, that Nicole. She danced and twirled around to flaunt her real body.

You two got one over on us. That just doesn’t seem right, Donny said, shaking his head.

She was offered to you first, Donny. You declined.

But I didn’t know... Donny held out both hands to Nicole in admiration.

Nicole went down the line hugging everyone. I’m going home for a little while. It’s been a good year, but I need to see my family. Not sure when I’ll be back.

Don’t go. I feel like I just met you, Billy said.

Yeah, but you have an old lady, remember? I’ll be back, she assured him.

Tears streamed down Nicole’s cheeks. She knew these guys had saved her life and accepted her as family.

This sucks. Donny shook his head. I just can’t believe this is Nicole.

Luke kicked his Harley to life, said goodbye to his comrades and, with Nicole seated behind him, headed to Long Island to be reunited with her parents.

Chapter 2

Thanks for the Ride

Nicole’s return home wasn’t always harmonious with her parents. She couldn’t wait for Luke Gavin’s occasional visits to whisk her away on his Harley. One ominous looking autumn day, when Luke pulled up to Nicole’s house in Massapequa, she was outside waiting for his arrival and arguing with her mother.

You are not going to get on that bike with him, her mother yelled.

I’ll be alright. He rides really well, and he’ll be very careful.

"But it’s going to rain. You can’t go out on that thing in the rain. Here, take this umbrella. What kind of guy is he? He doesn’t even have a car, and he picks you up on a motorcycle in the rain."

I’m fine, Mom, Nicole said, giving her a quick kiss.

Luke thought the umbrella was an unnecessary encumbrance, but he indicated that it was a good idea as he zipped her up in the new black leather jacket he’d just bought for her.

Do you have clean panties in case we get in an accident? he whispered, once she straddled behind him on the bike.

Panties? Oh, I forgot my panties.

That’s even better. She knew how to shoot sparks of desire through him.

They began the journey back to Jersey. When they stopped at a gas station to fill up, Luke looked up at the ominous storm clouds darkening the sky above them. Lightning bolts were getting closer, and thunder boomed above their heads — the air was full of static electricity. He started his Harley, hoping they could beat the worst of the storm back to Jersey.

As he rode on, the winds kicked up. Torrents of rain swirled in front of them. He had to squint just to see. Twenty cars pulled off to the shoulder, and a newspaper flew up in front of them. Still he rode on, and it seemed the farther they rode, the worse it got. He looked back periodically to see how Nicole was doing. By then, her makeup had streaked down her face and her hair clung to her skull.

By the time they got to the entrance to the Verrazano- Narrows Bridge, the winds were so bad that the span was closed to all vehicles, and several policemen diverted traffic. Luke pulled back about fifty yards. I’m driving over the police barricade, but it’s too dangerous for you, he said, so I’m going to drop you off here. Take the train. I’ll meet you on the other side.

I’m not taking a train. If you go, I go.

Get off, he insisted. Catch a ride from one of those cops. They’ll drive you to the other side. I’ll meet you there.

Driving over this 13,700-foot bridge in a tempest was something he had to do. The beast in the storm was taunting him, and the gods had thrown down the gauntlet. Luke accepted. Being reckless with his own life was one thing, but he didn’t want to jeopardize Nicole’s.

Get off! he shouted over the howl of the storm, I’ll see you on the other side.

She leaned forward to plead with him. Please let me go with you. I really want to do this. You’re everything to me. Please, let me do this just this once.

Are you sure? He studied her eyes.

Yes.

The rain stabbed their faces like vicious needles. The gusts of wind made it nearly impossible to keep the bike upright as he surveyed the entrance to the bridge. On either side of the entrance he saw two Port Authority cop cars, red lights flashing, and a bunch of cops and bridge workers flagging down cars. Then he saw an opening.

Here goes!

He pulled in the clutch, put the Harley in gear and opened the throttle. Because there was so much rain, the water had nowhere to go. As he accelerated, he left a wake like a PT boat, working his way past the stalled cars and gaining speed as he approached the men at the entrance. They waved their arms back and forth to block his entry. The Harley was moving at a good speed as he narrowly passed between two cops, splashing them in his wake.

The first quarter into the span was bad. The wind and rain hit them, the girders and cables creaked under the strain. The bridge seemed to sway from the force, and shards of glass from the street lights fell down around them.

Halfway across the span, it got even worse. It became almost impossible to control the bike, but too dangerous to stop. With an open throttle, Luke rode at an angle to compensate for the winds that were so fierce they pushed him back into the walkway. He knew he was only a few feet away from falling into the black abyss of no return.

As he rode farther, the back wheels spun, he decelerated and put his leg down to keep the bike from going down. As he got out of the first fishtail spin, he accelerated again. Now the two cop cars were slowly pacing behind him with their red lights flashing, reflecting the wet mass as he finished the last quarter of the span. The winds got less violent as if the gods said LET THESE MORTALS PASS, THEY’VE EARNED IT.

But the cops weren’t going to be as forgiving as the gods. When he pulled over on the other side of the bridge, he looked down at his pant legs. They were totally shredded as was a sleeve on his leather jacket.

The squad cars pulled over, and the cops started walking over to them ready to enforce the law. For whatever reason, Nicole decided to open the umbrella her mother had given her and held it over them. That girl had a quirky sense of humor, but her gesture made the cops stop in their tracks. The older cop just shook his head and smiled, but the younger cop shouted something that Luke couldn’t hear. He had depleted too many 7.62 rounds of ammo in Nam to hear well.

What’s he saying, Nicole?

He said, ‘Go. Get out of here!’

That’s it?

No, he said the war is over. He told you to slow down.

What else?

She hesitated as if she wasn’t sure she got the message right. He said, ‘If you’re going to kill yourself, don’t take an innocent with you.’

Just then, a gust of wind tore the umbrella from her hand, and they watched as it blew off into the darkness. They pulled away, heading toward the Goethals Bridge and back into Jersey. The storm lost its force as they rode down the shore.

Once in Long Branch, they decided to stop at the end of the boardwalk to warm up and have a drink at the pier. The pier extended a couple hundred yards over the water with rock jetties on either side where the surf broke. The local fishermen were out there day and night, so the bar stayed open all night to accommodate anyone who needed a place to go.

After 2 a.m. it was the only game in town, so Nicole and Luke spent many nights watching the sun rise over the Atlantic Ocean, playing pool and putting coins in the jukebox. That night, at the end of the pier, a big black guy with a hat played his saxophone in the drizzling rain, upsetting the peace and quiet of the old fishermen.

Their friend Carl, the bartender, was a welcome sight after facing the storm. Luke racked up the pool table for Nicole as Carl brought over their shots of brandy. There was a good crowd of younger locals there, hanging out and enjoying their youth.

Nicole ran into this hippie looking musician she knew. He had recently put together a band in Asbury. She introduced him and his friends to Luke.

Bruce, this is my beau, Luke.

Hey, Luke, man, you look like a ragamuffin. Bruce eyed Luke’s shredded jacket, and only then did Luke realize he must have appeared strange in a public place.

We just rode in from Long Island over the Verrazano-Narrows in a hurricane, Nicole explained. Her eyes lit up and she used sweeping gestures to tell the story.

When the big black guy finally came in, Bruce motioned to him. Clarence, this is Luke Man.

What’s with the tatterdemalion?

What do you mean? Luke wasn’t used to being questioned about his dress.

Tell Clarence the story. Bruce brought Nicole into the circle, and she gladly repeated their adventure.

The pier was energized that night. Bruce played his harmonica. Everyone sang and danced, and the drinks kept coming. These guys keep the place jumping, Luke shouted over the noise.

Everyone was having a great time, and as Luke watched Nicole dance with the hippie girls, he savored her raw sensuality. Her beauty lit up the room, even now with ruffled hair and no makeup. But then, that was Nicole.

Luke’s thoughts went to Tito. How could he want to end a life like this? In times like this, he believed in a God. After all, Tito was dead and Nicole was dancing. Say no more.

He continued to watch her and thought how lucky he was that she was part of his life. It wouldn’t last, nothing does. But they’d enjoy their youth tonight. So he pushed all other thoughts out of his head. Those intimate nights with her were like no other and, as Luke watched her dance, he was anticipating just how he would make love to her later that night.

As the night wound down, he grabbed Nicole by her arm, It’s been a long day, let’s go home.

As they said their goodbyes to everyone, Luke shook hands with Bruce and Clarence.

You know you guys got a lot of talent. You can really motivate people, but I gotta tell you, you got to change your band name, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band just won’t sell.

Luke and Nicole walked out to the Harley and headed back to Asbury. When they got home, Luke started a fire, and they got out of their wet clothes. Soon they were under the covers. Her skin was electrifying. He kissed her tenderly, caressing her lovely breasts. Their fullness sent a charge through him and in that instant, he craved the rest of her. At nineteen, she had perfected the art of lovemaking, bringing him to places he’d never traveled.

After making love, they normally shared a cigarette and talked into the night. Nicole turned in bed to face him squarely. Right now, I can’t imagine my life without you, she began. She hesitated a moment, took a deep breath and continued. But I think we have to take a different direction to prepare for the future. I think you should get out of the club and get a decent job somewhere. You have to change your lifestyle.

Luke’s eyes looked past her, as she went on about marriage, children, and the house they could buy. As she described the straight life, he folded his arms over his chest.

He was silent for a moment, but then answered her. Nicole, you can have any guy in the world — a doctor, lawyer, anyone. Guys would leave their wives for you, and without a doubt if there was anyone I would consider marrying, it would be you. But I’m doing you a favor when I tell you that I’m damaged goods, and my destiny is on a collision course.

You can change all that. She turned to him to give him all the support she could muster.

No, it’s preordained.

Don’t ever believe that. One controls their own destiny. All your bad times are behind you. Just walk away. We can do this together. I don’t want to be with some boring jerk. I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. She held her breath, hoping her argument was convincing.

For that I am honored, but we’d both have to feel the same way. He began to stroke her hair as if it could ease the blow.

You don’t feel the same for me? She took his hands in hers, hoping she had somehow misunderstood him.

I do, very much so, but I feel different about life and how it should be lived.

In an effort to explain himself he said, "Let me tell you a story from my past. I met an airline stewardess on a flight from Oakland to Chicago. She was older, maybe twenty-eight or twenty-nine. She picked me up and we spent the night in some Chicago hotel.

In the morning we took a taxi to the airport, and I asked her if we could see each other again. She turned to me and said, ‘Into each woman’s heart must one day walk a rogue, a complete good-for-nothing whom she will love for a while but never marry.’ She knew something about me that I didn’t know about myself. And she was the first of many people I’ve met along the way who advanced my personality, just like you did.

How did I advance your personality? Nicole didn’t like the way this conversation was going, but she wanted to understand his point of view.

You made me a better person by making me a more thoughtful person. Coming from Newark, I didn’t have that. And Viet Nam was about destruction and violence. I needed that and a blend of many traits. You will always be a part of me.

They looked away from each other. The bitter taste of his words began to sink in as the moon cast a shadow on the floor.

He continued, "The things you want in life are normal and reasonable. But the person that you chose to live life with isn’t. This has been a great year in our lives, great memories, and I do love you. But I’m choosing my lifestyle, not yours.

"Remember what the cop said on the bridge? I didn’t hear him, but you did. He knew I was in Nam because he was there too. And as strange as that sounds, he knew. When he said, ‘Don’t kill an innocent,’ he was right. I should never have taken you over that bridge. The whole time I was thinking about you and how stupid I was.

For me to change my lifestyle now would be a death sentence. A young death is inevitable for me, but I chose this life. I don’t know why.

She took one last shot at changing his mind. If you try to change…oh, it might take a while, but pretty soon, it will come naturally to you, and you’ll be grateful that you did. You can even see a doctor about your dreams.

That’s not going to work. Do you think I’m going to sit with some shrink up at the VA and let him put me on tranquilizers so I’m docile and happy? I’ll pass on that. Besides, I find some kind of solace in my dreams.

For a moment, there was silence as they both considered the finality of their conversation. He broke the silence by saying, For whatever it’s worth, this has been the best time of my life. I’m free while I’m with you, and I do love you.

You’re also rich, Nicole said softly.

What’s that?

Casey made you rich. You can have anything you want, go anywhere you want. If you ever wanted, you could buy a legal business. She wasn’t giving up without a fight.

Where did you get that from? Luke looked directly at her.

I have eyes, I see. You haven’t worked a day this past year, yet you have ten grand in your pocket at any given time. I know what you and Casey do. I don’t care. I’m just saying, I know.

Casey’s smarter than me. He’s just paying me to walk the point. He could of had any job, but he knows what happens to the Mother Club members — death or jail.

And he’s your friend? she asked.

Yeah, he is. I love him like a brother.

She took a deep breath, then changing her tone said, But forget about it. I don’t want to think about that now.

Nicole lit the candle that was sitting on the dresser by the window and turned on some quiet music. She swung her hips around, facing him, giving him that devilish look that said she was ready to be in charge of what happened next. The song, We Got Tonight, played on the record player. Its words told the truth. She gave herself to him in the most passionate way, far beyond what he could imagine.

When he woke, he was alone in the bed. Maybe she was getting coffee.

Luke walked into the bathroom and saw a note scrawled on the mirror in red lipstick, I will always love you rogue. Thanks for the ride. Nicole.

His heart sank. He thought about jumping on his Harley to see if he could catch her at the train station. He missed her already, but he was the one who’d chased her away. So he had to let her go.

Chapter 3

Zeitgeist - The Spirit of the Times

It was the summer of ’69, the era of Janis Joplin, Steppenwolf and Woodstock. It was also the time of the Pagan.

Those days were undeniably magical. You couldn’t escape a feeling of change in the air brought on by a new generation who were not afraid of living. They embraced the times and rode it like a surfer on a perfect wave, hoping it would never end.

Luke Gavin and his crew were free spirits, taking this era to an even higher plateau. Riding their Harley choppers, they were content to be society’s renegades. The Roman senator Tacitus, 2000 years ago, said, The more corrupt the state, the more numerous the laws. So the Pagan Nation lived by a few simple common-sense rules, but, if broken, the consequences were swift and violent.

One summer day, the Pagans hit the highways, navigating to the Jersey Shore, every twenty or thirty miles connecting with other chapters. The New York chapter hooked up with the North Jersey chapter, Philadelphia joined the Camden and Atlantic City chapters, until all the local Northeast chapters were one.

By the time they converged on Seaside Heights, there were a thousand motorcycles in this parade.

Luke had given the chapter presidents orders to keep all their guys in line, to be respectful so as not to have hassles with the law. That always worked until they started drinking, which they did at the first bar they found. The local cops were taken by surprise because they were no match for the power at hand.

The Pagans were there for the same reason everyone else was, to enjoy the Jersey Shore. There is no place on earth like the Jersey Shore. The smells of the food mixed with the salt air and the boardwalk and rides and all the pretty Jersey girls. It was a great time to be alive.

Luke and his most trusted friend, Casey, walked slowly down the boardwalk. Everywhere they looked there were Pagan colors. They had taken over, and there were no problems. The citizens and Pagans were getting along. The Jersey people had seen it all — a tough lot — and the Pagans were home-grown boys.

As Luke and Casey strolled farther down the walk, Donny, Saint James and Billy followed. Luke noticed a beautiful young woman with a little boy across the boardwalk at an amusement stand. She and the boy were trying to shoot out a red star on a white piece of paper to win a prize, and Luke could