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If anyone had the nerve to ask, it would be said that President Quinn never skirted the call of duty when the club called on him.
Late one night, he got a distress call from, of all people, the National Vice President of the Sons of Anarchy.
Jackson 'Jax' Teller needed help in Charming.
Arriving at the funeral home, Quinn found Jax standing next to a fresh cadaver wrapped up in plastic. "Thanks for coming, Quinn. I owe you one."
"When the club calls, I answer. What happened?"
"He was stalking a friend of mine. Tried to kill her. This same piece of shit also broke into my house, pissed all over my kid's nursery and tried to bring down the club."
"The doctor who ran off to Chicago? She's the reason that this dirtbag is sporting a hole in his head?" Quinn asked.
Jax nodded. "I can't have this shit blow back on her or the club."
"Are the tools here?" Quinn asked. Jax pointed over to the tables where the gloves, hazmat bags and surgical knives were set up. Taking his cut off, Quinn put on the gloves, took a blade for evisceration in hand to check the sharpness.
"Cover the floor twice over with hazmat plastic. You're going to be wrapping up what falls out."
Ten minutes later, after the tools were cleaned and sanitized, Jax began mopping up the floors while Quinn made everything he took out from the body disappear.
When he got back, the hollowed out body was wrapped up. Jax and Quinn made quick work putting a layer of plastic cover in the trunk of Tara's Cutlass prior to dumping the body in and closing the lid.
Before Jax could say anything, Quinn halted him. "We get this shit done first. Then I'll listen to what you have to say."
Arriving at a clearing near the woods, Jax and Quinn put bags over their shoes to prevent leaving footprints. Working as a team, they walked through the forest until they found the grave Quinn dug up. It was not so deep that it could leave fresh earth but not shallow enough for anyone to stumble upon it.
Throwing the body into the grave, Quinn took a makeshift Molotov cocktail and threw it into the grave, setting the body ablaze. Some time later, after the fire died down, Jax and Quinn filled the grave.
Changing into some clean clothes and getting their cuts on, the two Sons went back to Tara's house, left the Cutlass in her drive way, mounted their respective Harleys and rode out to a diner on the outskirts of town.
Sitting at a table in the corner of the dining area where they could get a good field of vision for whoever walked in, Quinn spoke first, "Who did we give the big send off to tonight?"
"Agent Kohn. ATF."
Those six words had Quinn reaching into his cut, pulling out his flask and downing a shot of top quality Moonshine that Sharky sent him every month. "Go on."
"He was stalking Tara in spite of a restraining order she put out against him. Used the club as a way to get into Charming. He was crazy."
"Is that why she came back? Damn it, Jackson. She knew that you wouldn't hesitate to do what the police wouldn't do. One call from her and you practically broke the speed limit to get there, didn't you?"
"If it was Emily Duncan in Tara's position, you'd have the entire Nomad charter up in arms ready to take down the entire ATF overnight."
"Never try to estimate what I would do in your shoes, Jackson. Even if it's close to the truth." Quinn said just as the waitress showed up to take their orders, thinking about his own Ol' Lady at Jax's words. He knew they were true.
When she had walked away, Jax asked, "How could you do what you did to Kohn without puking?"
"My first time, I was a grunt. I knew what would happen when I opened fire. I was trained to know what I could inflict with the weapons at my disposal. It took everything in me to keep myself together. My CO, even if he didn't see the residue, only had to smell my breath to know. He told me that it was better to lose your lunch than your life on the battlefield. All the ones after that, I didn't even think about them. It came naturally to me after that."
After their breakfast had come back and they started eating, Jax said, "You're right up there with Tig and Hap. You know that, right?"
Quinn said nothing while he downed another shot. Only now did Jackson Teller understand why the Nomad President was the only man Tig and Happy feared.
A/n: I figured that Jax might have needed help and who better to call on than the Nomad President himself. If this story entertained, be kind to leave a review. Thanks for reading.