Australasian Biker News
Outlaw spills gang secrets
Article from: The Sunday Mail (Qld)

DANGEROUS games ... the truth about outlaw bikie gangs in
Queensland is revealed by a former gang
member.
Paula Doneman
June 15, 2008 12:00am
AUSTRALIA was captivated by the revelations of Melbourne's sinister
gangland culture in the television drama Underbelly.
The storylines of brutal killings, violent bashings, drug dealing,
standover merchants and hired hits shocked and appalled viewers.
But as families sat glued to their TVs watching this controversial
series, many were unaware that an equally chilling gang war is erupting
right outside their safe suburban homes.
Until now, the frightening truth about the dangerous world of outlaw
bikie gangs in Queensland has remained fiercely protected by a code of
silence.
But after his harrowing decision to turn informant on his
brothers-in-arms, one former gang member has decided to speak publicly
for the first time about the current bikie war.
In an exclusive interview with The Sunday-Mail at a secret location,
"Steve" (whose real identity has been suppressed by a court order) also
reveals the terrible choice that forced him to testify against his
mates.
A choice that also has left him a "dead man walking".
Steve formally joined the Bandidos in 2004 after being involved with
bikie gangs for 14 years.
"I joined because I liked the men and the whole brotherhood thing, the
loyalty and respect," said Steve, who had met several members while
earning a living as a drug dealer on the Sunshine Coast.
His criminal connections and past dealings with the club ensured a rapid
rise through the ranks.
Within 12 months, Steve was made a "full patched" member of the Bandidos
and was the sergeant-at-arms, the club's enforcer, for the Cairns
chapter.
"It's a lifestyle. It takes your whole life and your life completely
changes. Your family becomes a Bandido . . . the club comes first and
all your brothers come first," he said.
"We were a law unto ourselves. There is no feeling in the world of
riding in the front of a pack of 500 men . . . you feel unstoppable."
Steve embarked on hedonistic binges on drugs and alcohol that could last
for weeks.
"I didn't really use drugs before joining the club, then I was popping
20 pills and snorting lines of coke," he said.
Senior Bandidos had dubbed Steve "the future of Queensland" because of
his diehard loyalty to the club's needs.
"I would do anything for the club. I have done s--- that I will never
talk about and I have paid with my life a hundred times."
The Bandidos are one of 12 outlaw bikie gangs that now have chapters in
Queensland, boasting more than 700 members, according to police
estimates. The stakes are high for these gangs. Financial rewards are
dependent on the protection and expansion of criminal enterprise.
Territories, often designated by the presence of a clubhouse and
member-owned businesses, ensure ongoing profitability.
Steve said crime and the outlaw bikie gang culture of "one-percenters",
those bikies who declare themselves the 1 per cent of society who defy
the law, go hand-in-hand.
"While you've got an outlaw culture, you've got crime . . . even if you
have never done a crime before in your life, you soon will," he said.
The gangs are involved in criminal activities ranging from drug
distribution to extortion and contract killings.
It is a culture whose members' propensity for violence to resolve
conflict has played out nationwide in shootouts, murder, bashings and
firebombings.
Chapters each have members with "underground connections" but most will
set up their criminal enterprises at a distance so as not to bring
"heat" on the club.
The Bandidos also have a strict code of conduct – mandatory attendance
at the clubhouse every Friday night, never leaving before the president,
and strict dress code.
Members are expected to pay a monthly fee to help with maintenance, rent
and other members experiencing financial difficulty.
"I was pretty wealthy when I came into the club and I left broke, owing
money to other members; at one stage, I was in debt $50,000."
As sergeant-at-arms, meting out brutal beatings to fellow members and
externally to anyone who stood in their way became a frequent "duty" for
Steve.
He was convicted of assault and grievous bodily harm in Cairns after a
brawl with police when they tried to question the group over a bashing
at a local hotel.
He would not detail the penalties for members if they broke club rules,
saying only that punishment varied from fines to demotion within the
club and being assaulted.
About two years ago, gang life turned treacherous at Steve's Brisbane
chapter as a national war between the Bandidos and Rebels erupted.
The bloody feud between the country's two largest gangs was sparked by
the defection to the Bandidos of several senior interstate members of
the Rebels.
"The law within the clubs is that to defect to another club you have to
have left your club for two years in good standing. There has to be a
cooling-off period of two years," Steve said.
Defection between clubs was taken seriously as gangs fear members will
betray secrets, leaving them vulnerable to attack.
The battle reached a point where once-sacred areas such as members'
homes and businesses were no longer no-go areas.
"You see a Rebel in a shopping centre, it's your job as a Bandido to
take him out, no matter what, otherwise you'll be thrown out of the
club," Steve said.
"The war between the Bandidos and Rebels has been going for two years.
The last one went for seven and I don't ever see this one ending."
An attack on a Sunshine Coast Rebel in 2006 by Bandidos sparked a series
of violent clashes and broke an already uneasy truce between the
Queensland-based gangs, which had decided to keep clear of the national
war. The Rebel was run off the road and bashed, suffering serious spinal
injuries. He told police he had been in a traffic accident.
In February last year, in an alleged revenge attack, members of the
Rebels drove into a group of Bandidos riding in formation at Ningi near
Bribie Island.
The Rebels, who have been charged over the incident, allegedly bashed
Bandidos with baseball bats and axe handles.
"I had taken some leave at the time, because I needed a break," Steve
said. "The loyalty and respect had gone in our chapter. Before you could
trust a brother with your life, but that was gone. (But) I was getting
calls that brothers were getting hurt and I had to go back.
"After this happened (Ningi), there was a lot of talk about revenge on
the Rebels."
It was this event which lead to Steve's downfall.
In what many would believe to be a suicide mission, Steve and three
fellow gang members torched the Rebels' "mother" clubhouse at Albion on
Brisbane's northside.
Steve said he was forced to take part in the revenge arson attack or he
would have been "beaten to a pulp". Had he refused to take part, his
club would have ejected him on "bad standings", leaving him open to
attack from every member of the Bandidos.
He said they would have attacked him on sight and removed his club
tattoos with an angle-grinder or oxy-torch.
"If I had been thrown out, they also would have called the Rebels and
said I had been kicked out of the club because I had done the arson.
"I had nowhere to go," he said.
Steve later told police that discussions about the revenge attack had
been held between himself, club vice-president Ivan Glavas,
sergeant-at-arms Kenneth James Whittaker and the then past-president
Blair Raymond Thomsen.
He said an initial attempt on the Rebels' Albion clubhouse on March 26
last year failed, but Thomsen ordered Steve to leave a business card
from the Bandidos' Sunshine Coast chapter in the door.
"The reason I think he wanted to do the (Albion) clubhouse is because
there is more history, more memorabilia, it's the mother chapter of the
Rebels," Steve said.
The following day, the four men again entered the property.
Whittaker climbed on the roof and was passed four jerry cans containing
40 litres of petrol that he poured through a hole he made using a
crowbar. He then tossed a lit match into the building and leapt to
safety as the clubhouse exploded.
In the days following the arson, Steve said, he had armed confrontations
with members of the Rebels, after they twice attacked him on the
Sunshine Coast.
In the first attack at his Yandina rental property, he woke in the early
hours of the morning to hear people on his roof.
"I put my family in the bathroom and I ran out with a shotgun and
handgun just firing shots . . . I saw them and knew who it was."
No one was harmed in the incident which Steve never reported to police.
The second attack was outside a paint shop at Nambour when he and
another member were allegedly confronted by three armed men.
He said the men knew he was there after being tipped off by a mutual
associate who kept them updated about Steve's movements.
"They (allegedly) fired shots into my car, they missed me but shot a
chunk of my hair off as I dived into the air . . . I was unarmed at the
time. But if I had been, someone would have died," he said.
The following morning, Steve confronted one of the men at gunpoint over
the incident saying his family could have been in the car when they
attacked. He refused to talk to police.
"The cops came and we had to flick our guns . . . it was serious s---."
Steve said he asked for help from his club, but received none.
"We wore no balaclavas, no gloves, and I read in the news police had
tape of the arson. I felt like my brothers had abandoned me and I didn't
want to lose my family.
"I was left with no choice but being the fall guy."
At the same time the Queensland police bikie Taskforce Hydra was closing
in on the Bandidos and raided Steve's Sunshine Coast home, which was in
Rebel territory.
Frightened for the safety of his family and feeling like he had nowhere
to go, Steve did the "unthinkable" and turned to the police task force
for help.
"It nearly killed me doing it, turning on the club."
In August last year, Steve testified against his "mates".
Steve and another Bandido, who cannot be named, pleaded guilty to their
role in the arson and received five years' jail, wholly suspended.
Last week, Brisbane District Court Judge Gilbert Trafford-Walker
sentenced Whittaker, 33, and Thomsen to five years' jail, to be
suspended after they have served 20 months, for the "more significant
part they played".
He then handed Glavas, 47, a four-year sentence for his role in planning
and providing tools, to be suspended after serving 16 months.
John Debilla, the getaway driver who was not a gang member, was jailed
for three years, to be suspended immediately.
Steve remains in hiding and knows he can never return to Queensland.
"Almost every day I wake up and check my car for bombs. I change cars a
lot and never stick to routine.
"The day they attack me is the day I will go to jail for the rest of my
life . . . if I don't die."