When the limo pulled up to the gate, two guards, with rifles clearly visible, came up to his car. He rolled down the window, "My name is Max Rozzi. I'm a long time client. I would like to go up to the house. Is there a problem?"

 

"Afternoon, Mr. Rozzi. I'm very aware of who you are and it is an honor to meet you. Your position in this city is well known. There was trouble, but not any longer. It is completely safe. Please continue up to the house and I'll call ahead to ensure you are allowed inside."

 

"Thank you," he said, noting that the man was wearing a very nice suit for a guard carrying an assault rifle.

 

As they passed through the gates, he asked his assistant, "Cathy, that suit?"

 

"Five, easy," she told him.

 

"Thoughts?"

 

"Lou?"

 

"Hmmm, interesting." Max murmured. "He did say he knew what my position was, didn't he?"

 

"Very few would; you aren't that popular to the masses. He would have to have a reason for knowing your name, or to recognize you on sight like that."

 

"Yes, agreed. You stay here. I don't think I'll actually get anywhere, so I don't think this will take long," Max told her.

 

The door was opened by another guard, but no rifles there. All handguns and shoulder holsters, "Afternoon, Mr. Rozzi. It is a pleasure to have you here."

 

"You're one of Lou's men?" he asked.

 

"Yes, sir. Temporary detail. One month only," he said.

 

"And the trouble?"

 

"Has been taken care of," the guard assured him.

 

Instinct made him ask, "When?"

 

The guard fumbled, but then seemed to find no reason for secrecy with that, "Yesterday, about noon."

 

"Thank you," Max said and walked directly toward the front door like owned the place. Coincidence? Her transfer and abduction, and the end of trouble, which previously required this much firepower? Max didn't believe in coincidences of that nature.

 

The house was a three-story mansion and when Max came through the front doors, the lobby of the house had a greeting desk with a man sitting behind it, making the place feel like an office, with receptionist.

 

Who to ask for. Gabriel, or Nicole? He walked to the receptionist and introduced himself.

 

"Yes, sir. I'm well aware of your standing with our service. How can I help you? Gabriel will not be back until at least six this evening."

 

"That's fine. Actually I am here to visit with Nicole. I was told she would be in this location now."

"Nicole?" he said and Max could see a great deal of surprise in the young man's face. "I'm afraid that she is not really available. She's had some…problems."

 

"Ah, well, I would still like to see her; you may charge my normal rate. Thank you."

 

"No," he smiled and almost laughed, "I can't charge you that much, Mr. Rozzi. After you see her, you would have my hide. And she's --"

 

"House pussy. Yes, I know," he said matter-of-factly. "I've been over this," he continued, pulling out his money clip and handing over five hundred. "One hour, probably much less. I am on a schedule, so please, let's not banter any longer."

 

The young man took the money and his eyes shifted toward the guards, then back to Max, "All right, but --"

 

"You warned me, yes, yes, lead the way," Max pressed, walking around the desk and forcing the man into action.

 

"Right this way, Mr. Rossi," he said, hurrying into a leading position.

 

Well, that wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be, he said to himself.

 

She was Nicole, or at least the shell of Nicole. Her beauty was still intact, but everything he loved about her was gone. Her eyes were dark marbles and no one was home. He got to the bed and sat down, "Nicole? It's Max. I'm back. Nicole?"

 

"Max?" she asked, searchingly.

 

"Yes, I'm here."

 

"Max. Cole. Please. Cole."

 

"Coal? What do you need coal for?"

 

"Cole, Max. Please. Horsemen. Please. Help. I'm hurt, Max. I'm hurt."

 

"I know. I'm going to help you," he said.

 

"Find Cole Max. Find Cole."

 

"All right. Where can I find coal?"

 

"Horsemen. Horsemen. Help. Hurry."

 

Max spent a half hour with her, but that's all he got that made any sense and that much didn't make any sense at all. Horsemen? He eased her back down on the bed from his lap, "I'm going to get coal for you. I'll be back soon."

 

"Thank you, Max. Thank you. I love him."

 

Him? Coal is a man? Him. Horsemen. There was no way he would get out of here with her. He didn't think the guards would kill him, but the possibility of being wadded up, stuffed in his limo, and sent on its way was viable.

 

Back in his limo, he told the driver to start heading downtown, waiting for further instructions. "You all right with a long night, Bill?" he asked.

 

"Willing and able, sir. I feel the same way Cathy does," Bill, his driver, told him.

 

"Then let's go, but no sense hurrying until we have a destination.

 

"Yes, sir," he said and took the limo out on the road.

 

"I think we better hurry on this one," Max assessed, "I don't believe he's trying to break her. I think he's trying to kill her. She's really gone, but physically she looks all right."

 

"What did you get?"

 

"Not much. I got key words: Horsemen, Coal…possibly a man's name. That's it," he said with frustration. "Oh, and she loves him. Coal."

 

It took Cathy over three minutes this time to come up with, "Chrome Horsemen. Chapters in Milwaukee, Detroit, and Chicago. An outlaw biker group that, until yesterday, according to news reports, was in a gang war with an unknown group. Several shootings, raids, and fires."

 

"Yesterday, eh?" Max said, feeling a scent in his nose. "Find them. A location. Anything."

 

A minute later, she said, "I have an address; it's a bar."

 

"Give it to Bill and tell him to rush," Max ordered.

 

Once the limo gained speed and purpose, Max said, "I don't know how much a group like that can do with the security I saw around that place. They seem the fastest resource, but get on the phone and put together a team of hostage rescue men. Men who don't mind pulling shit like this on U.S. soil and understand that until she is able to walk and talk, they'll probably be at risk for kidnapping charges at the very least. I want the best you can find and I'm fairly open on the budget," Max told her. Then he added, "In fact, make it a budget of $5,483,609.00."

 

Cathy looked up at him, "That was a fairly specific amount, for a budget."

 

Max gave her a sad grin and looked out the window as his driver rushed them through Chicago.