Chapter 34
Slick
As midnight approaches, conversations around me falter, each of us in silent reflection, going over plans in our heads and, probably all the same as me, eager to get out and get this shit done. Looking across the room I can see Wraith impatiently bouncing his leg and Drum tapping his fingers on the table where he’s sitting with Lost and Crash. At last the prez glances at his phone to check the time, then stands and gives us the signal it’s time to get this job started. Finally. Wasting no time, I call my team together and we go over the arrangement once again. And then it’s time for the first team to head out.
Men slap each other’s back and exchange hugs, cries of “good luck” and “watch your fuckin’ backs” abound. I give one last look around the ruined clubroom and then gather my crew.
We’re third lot to leave. Crash, the Vegas VP, I quickly discover doesn’t mind following orders despite the fact he outranks me and rides alongside as we head to our designated address. I’m well prepared, as usual, Mouse has given us all the details—where to park up and how best to avoid security cameras. Stowing our cuts on our bikes we approach the house and it’s then I get my first clue things might not go as smoothly as planned. There are lights on inside, when I’d hoped to find the single occupant asleep.
Crash waves two of his men forward, Rope and Cuff, who I’ve been told, do everything together. And apparently that means everything. “Go see what’s goin’ on.” After instructing them, he turns to me. “Those two move like fuckin’ ghosts.”
I’m quite happy he’s offered their services. Neither Shooter or Viper are particularly light on their feet. Now I’m unable to do anything but stand with my foot impatiently tapping the ground as I wait for intel that will give us suggestions as to how to proceed.
Within moments they’re back. “Fuckin’ party inside,” Cuff tells me. From the expression of disgust on his face, I’ve got a pretty good idea what he means.
My heart beats faster. “One of their specials?”
“Yeah, fuck it.” Cuff spits on the ground. “Fuckin’ perverts.”
“How many fuckers in there?”
“Seven that I saw. Could be more. And two girls.”
“Your move, Slick.” Crash shows he respects my lead. “How do you want us to play this?”
I’m for being cautious, so I query a bit more. “How much could you see? Is it possible they’re ready and waiting for us?”
Rope shakes his head and gives a disgusted snort. “Man, we could see in through the side window. Looks like they’re fully occupied with their entertainment to me.”
I’m still wary this could be a trap. “We need to get the girls clear.” I hesitate, but only for a moment. “Brothers, we were here to take out one man, but from what Rope and Cuff say none of those fuckers in there are innocent. I say we end them all.” And even while it seems unlikely, I can’t take any chances. This could still be a trap. At the back of my mind hovers the thought that the Herreras have set us up and, while it looks genuine, it could be anything but.
And we’re outnumbered. My team numbers six. It’s good to have the Vegas boys here, who’ll I just have to trust know what they’re doing. Part of me wishes I had more of the brothers I know.
I make my decision. “We go in quiet, quick and clean. We don’t give them a chance to draw their fucking weapons. Shooter, your aim still good, Brother? Think you can take two of them?”
Without a pause he gives a quick nod in response. I stare at him for a moment, remembering how shaken he was when he’d make his first kills, but he seems to have his head on straight. Under my examination he raises his chin. I slap my hand on his back.
“Won’t be a problem, Slick. They’re not men, they’re animals.”
“You got that right, Shooter.”
Cuff lifts a semi-automatic into my line of sight. I nod at him, I’ve set mine to single shot, having eyed up nearest residences, not too close, but near enough to disturb me. If we need to change to rapid fire we’ll do so, but for now, “We use silencers if possible.” No point getting the cops here too quickly. Cuff nods in understanding.
Once I know my message has gotten across I continue, “Right, rear, and front entry.” Fuck, we’re becoming practiced at this, but it had worked for Drum when we saved Jayden, hopefully it will work again now. Though this time I won’t be knocking on the front door. “Once those fuckers are dead we get the girls out.”
“What’s the timer on that?” Crash nods at the device I’m checking before putting it back in my pocket.
“I can set it for whatever we decide.”
“Three minutes will give us enough time to get clear.” And the house will be blown sky high. Each of our hits tonight will be via a different method. Make it less easy for them all to be linked to the same group.
The time suggested is reasonable, so I indicate my agreement. It’s a fucking shame we can’t do this as planned. Make sure Lucas was inside, sneak inside to find him sleeping, a quick shot to the head, and then get away clean. But the presence of the girls and other men changes all that. Luckily we’ve come prepared with the larger team as we’d all known we were going into the unexpected, and quite possibly an ambush situation. We’d tossed around many a scenario during church. And now I’m fucking glad we had.
“I’ll take the back with Cuff and Rope.”
I lift my chin to Crash, Shooter and Viper nod to show they’ll be with me. Giving a chin jerk, we slip on gloves then start to move forward, crouched down, keeping down behind a conveniently placed low wall. Reaching the front door, I check out the lock, then use my useful skeleton key to open it silently, then send a quick text to Crash, immediately receiving one back. They’re inside too. The party’s going on in the front room. So far nothing has changed, no one’s watching out for our arrival and our entry seems undetected.
We head down the short hall. I pause to let Crash come alongside, then burst through into the living room. Shooter’s quick on the draw, two men drop by his hand. I get a third. Others are falling. One man’s enjoying an almost comatose girl on the ground, while the other young kid is slumped over a chair. Holding my fire, as I don’t want to hit the girl, the last man looks around in surprise, pants down by his ankles. As he rises he tries to pull them up when he sees dead bodies around him. I take aim then pause. Fucking hell. I’m about to become a cop killer. My arm comes up and quickly pushes Crash’s weapon down. He looks at me sharply, and I shake my head.
“Not him.” I say tersely to Crash, and then address the man abusing the girl. “Hands up!” He’s probably got a weapon to hand. As he raises his arms his pants fall down again, the clang on the wooden floor confirming my assumption was correct. Crash quickly steps forward and seizes his gun.
Detective Archer’s eyes open wide, and lines appear on his forehead. His cheeks have gone pink, but when he looks at me his expression slowly changes and the worry lines fade. He looks around at the fallen men, then scoffs, “You’re fucking lucky you didn’t pull that trigger. Kill me and they’ll never stop coming after you if you shoot one of their own.”
Does he mean his professional colleagues or the Herreras? If it’s the latter and Leonardo’s straight he’s wrong. If the former he may have a point. But his words have no power to sway me. I only have to glance at the girl lying on the floor crying to realise whatever he says, his remaining life is now measured in hours.
He follows the direction of my eyes and must realise he’s not got me convinced as he tries to offer up something more. “I’ll lay off the Norman kid. Make the paperwork go away. Just let me walk. You can keep the brat.”
“What’s goin’ on?” A deep voice speaks by my side.
“This, here,” I point with my gun, “is a dirty cop.”
Crash’s eyes open wide. “Fuck.”
Yeah. Fuck. “Watch him.” Taking out my phone I move out of the room. I try a number a couple of times, but Drum doesn’t pick up.
“Ringing Prez?”
“Yeah, but there’s no answer,” I tell Viper tersely, who’s followed me out into the hallway.
“Reckon Prez will want to question him himself.”
Viper’s got a point. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’ll get a prospect here with the truck. We’ll truss him up and take him home.” I make a second call, this time one where there’s a reply. And while we’re waiting for transport maybe I’ll get some information myself. Returning to the main room, I quickly update Crash.
“Good call, man. From what you say, your Prez will want to hear what he’s got to say. We’ll use the waiting time to clean up.” He nods towards one of his men. “Cuff?” When he gets his attention, he jerks his head toward Archer. “We’re takin’ him back to the compound.”
“Wrapped?”
“Oh yeah.” Crash smirks. “With a pretty bow on top.”
There’s a reason why Cuff has his name. As he reaches around to his back pocket and takes out of pair of handcuffs I hold back a laugh. While Archer watches in horror, Cuff nods his Vegas brother who takes hold of the cop, roughly pulling his arms behind his back. The cuffs are on before he can blink. Then I watch as Rope walks around to his front, sneering at the immobilised man. The cop tries to back away, forgetting his pants are around his ankles and falls on his ass. Rope laughs, then quick as a flash kneels, leaning his weight on the man to keep him from moving, then takes the belt off the pants and wraps it tightly around Archer’s shins, keeping them tight together so he can’t kick off his pants. It’s a ridiculous sight. Especially when he pulls the detective to his knees and he has difficulty balancing and his flaccid cock’s flapping in the air.
“You can’t kill me.” Archer might be trussed like a turkey, but he doesn’t sound particularly worried as he basically repeats what he said before. “I’m a cop. And you need me.” Suddenly he’s smirking as if he thinks he’s got the upper hand. “Kill me and you lose the kid. Now the order’s been served social services will get involved. She’ll be taken away unless I put a stop to it. Only I can do that. I know the judge. Let me go now, I’ll say nothing of this, and I’ll make your problem with the brat disappear.”
I don’t trust him. But it will be Drum’s call. He’s got a vested interest in keeping Amy safe. For now I’ll stick to my plan.
“While we’re twiddling’ our fuckin’ fingers, think we ought to be gettin’ them out of here.” Crash points to the girl on the floor, and then indicates the one on the couch.
“You can’t touch me. Untie me, let me go now.”
Tuning out Archer’s continuing protests, I focus my attention on the girl lying prone on the floor. I’d thought she was totally out of it but she seems to have recovered at least some of her senses. Although she’s surrounded by dead bodies, she isn’t looking at us in horror, she’s looking at us like we’re her saviours. And she’s not even a woman, can’t be much more than twelve. Knowing Drum will want to take the lead on Archer, with great difficulty I resist the urge to thrust my fist into his face and send his teeth into this throat. We caught him raping a fuckin’ kid.
Instead, I throw a nod at Shooter and then incline my head in the girl’s direction. As he approaches her, his arm reaches out to touch her and she flinches away.
“Hey, we’re not like them. I’m gonna get you out of here, pet.” I’m impressed how he keeps his voice gentle. “Can you stand? Where are your clothes?”
Her eyes flit around wildly, eyeing the corpses as though they might get up and abuse her all over again. Shooter sees her looking. “They can’t hurt you anymore, sweetheart. But you’ve got to get dressed, else I won’t be able to get you home. It’s over now, pet, I promise. They’ll never hurt you again.” As he looks at me I see his face is tight.
But what he’d said to her though? That, right there, is why we’ve done good here tonight. The men lying dead aren’t going to abuse any more young girls.
Viper’s calling my name. When I focus my attention on him he’s cuddling the other girl. She can’t be more than ten, if that. He’s obviously calmed her, she’s got her hands clasped in his tee. I lower my head into my hands. Archer’s still going from complaining to threatening and then back again. If he had any sense he’d shut up. Finding him here with these girls? He’s lucky not to have broken bones.
Shooter and Viper have got the girl’s moving, and somehow they’ve found their clothes. When she puts hers on, Spider’s girl looks younger than ever, her tee having a sparkly unicorn on the front. The other’s even worse, her sleep shorts and tank have kittens on them. My stomach churns with the need to vomit, but I swallow it down. We can’t leave any DNA here.
“We’ll take them home and meet you back at the compound.” The girls throw a look at each other, and then nod. Going home must seem like a fucking good idea to them.
I turn to Viper and Shooter, wary there might be something going on in Tucson tonight that we’re still unaware of, and wanting to take every precaution. “You travel together. Drop the younger one off first. Fuck, how do her parents not know she’s missin’?” And how would you groom such a young girl?
Viper seems to know what I’m thinking. “We’ll get Mouse to look into their backgrounds, but for now, let’s get them back to their folks. They’ll be safe enough there for tonight.
“Discretely though, Brothers. No ringin’ of door bells. Just let them get inside.”
Archer’s still immobilised, so Rope and Cuff start cleaning up, looking for spent bullets or anything else that would show we were here. While they do their bit, I stare at the man kneeling on the floor. Suddenly I can’t keep a rein on my curiosity any longer.
Going to the cop, I put my hands on his skull, pulling his head back so I’m staring into his face. “What’s the story with Heart’s kid? Why the fuck are you so intent on putting her in the hands of a fuckin’ junkie?”
Archer tries to pull his head out of my hands. “You’re going to have to let me go,” he screams, “I’m the only one who can put a stop to her being taken away from you. You want the brat, you let me loose.”
Is that true? Not sure Drum’s going to like it if it is. Fuck, I wish I’d been able to get through to him on the phone. Releasing Archer, I try to call him again. Still no fucking answer. And the prospect and the truck will still be some ways out.
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“Want me to give him some incentive?” Crash is rubbing his hands together.
I nod. It wouldn’t’ hurt. Drum will be fine with that, as long as we don’t damage the goods too much.
Seeing a stranger approach with a knife in his hands, Archer panics and tries to get away, but trussed as he is he just falls on his ass again. Crash moves fast, moving behind him and putting his knife to Archer’s neck.
“Don’t hurt me!” the coward cries as the blade presses in and a trickle of blood starts to run down. “I’ll tell you, alright? The bitch of the grandmother, Clyde. She’s well into the Herreras for drugs. Couldn’t pay up. She said she had a grandkid she’d be willing to give up.”
I step closer, Crash digs his knife in some more. “Kid’s got parents.” I watch as Archer swallows, his Adam’s apple bobs precariously close to Crash’s knife. He’s hiding something. “How could a junkie give you a kid that wasn’t hers to give?” I’m starting to smell a strong odour of fish. My heart misses a beat. It couldn’t be. Could it? And then the more I think about it, the more it fucking adds up.
I move closer to the man lying back on his ass. “When did she make you the offer?”
Archer stays quiet.
“I asked you a fuckin’ question.” I nod at Crash who presses the knife in again. Archer tries to jerk away. I take another step toward him and say, menacingly. “Drum might want the kid, but whether she stays or goes makes no odds to me.” I’m lying through my teeth but he doesn’t know that. “And I don’t give a damn if I take out a dirty cop. So tell me! When did she make the fuckin’ offer?” Yeah, I can do intimidating when I need to.
“Six weeks ago!” Archer cries out.
Fuck it! I’m right! But I still need to make sure. “Yeah,” I prompt, “you got fuckin’ lucky when Heart and Crystal had that accident which made that the kid all but an orphan.” Taking a step forward, I aim a kick into his balls. As he folds over, Crash is only just able to change the position of the knife at his throat in time. He gives me a quick grin, and I can’t help smiling back. Wouldn’t have bothered me if his throat got cut. Except, I reckon there’s more he can tell us. And of course, Drum might object.
“Thing is, Detective, I don’t believe in coincidences.” Six weeks ago Crystal was alive, and Heart still functioning.
Recovering sufficient breath to speak, Archer looks up and actually smirks. “You fucking bikers think you’re invincible, riding around on your death traps, preening yourselves that your gang rules the roads. Two wheelers ain’t got much chance against four.”
Crash exchanges a look with me, clearly sharing my growing suspicion. He pulls back Archer’s head, and now speaks. “Reckon you’ve got more to tell us, Archer. I might not kill you, but I can put you in a whole world of hurt. You see my brother here? He wants some fuckin’ answers. Now either you tell us everythin’ you know, or you’re gonna lose a fuckin’ eye.” He places the tip of his knife against Archer’s left eyelid. “You’ve can choose to tell us everythin’, or I’ll give you another fuckin’ choice to make. Left or right.”
Archer goes white, the threat more than sufficient. He quickly starts spitting it all out. “I put the word out on Heart, got the patrols looking for him. It was only a matter of time until he left the compound. Officers called it in one Saturday afternoon. He was getting onto the I-10 at Tombstone, and there was only one direction he could be heading.”
If it was up to me, Archer would be needing an eyepatch by now. But I force myself to remember Drum will want him whole. Like a scab I can’t help scratching, I probe for more. Even though every word out of this bastard’s mouth is making me sick.
“You arranged for him to be taken out?”
A prod with the knife’s tip and Archer keeps spilling. “It took me by surprise, didn’t have time to arrange anyone else to do the hit so I did it my-fucking-self. Fucking piece of cake. Grabbed one of the trucks off the Herrera compound, easily big enough to take out a bike. He didn’t suspect a fucking thing as I came up behind him, only gave a quick look back as I was coming up so fast. And lucky for me he had his wife up behind him. Thought I was going to have to do it in two hits. But I killed two birds with one stone.” And he looks pleased with himself. And then he laughs.
Seeing nothing but red I breathe in and hold it. “You fuckin’ killed Crystal.” So enraged, it’s hard to get the words out. And he’d left Heart in God knows what state. Almost without me being aware of it my hand holding the gun rises.
Archer follows my movement with his eyes. “You can’t kill me! Not if you want the kid!” He repeats what he previously warned me.
But all I can see is Crystal alive, happy and laughing, that thought juxtaposed with the sight of her coffin being lowered into the ground. My cheeks burn, the room starts to suffocate me.
“Slick!” Crash shouts a warning at me.
But my arm keeps moving, my fingers twitch on the trigger.
“Don’t, Slick!” Crash yells again.
But nothing can stop me applying a little more pressure. My aim is sure, a bullet flies out and I shoot straight at his groin. Archer goes white and slumps forward, blood pouring out.
“What the fuck, man?” Crash looks horrified. “Drum could have your patch for this.”
Part of me is devastated with what I’d done. The other part feels no remorse, except for the fact he didn’t suffer more. I’ve killed the man who murdered my brother’s wife.
The cop’s body is twitching. “Christ, Slick.” Crash takes matters into his own hands, and slits Archer’s throat. There’s no way he’d come back from that injury, and no longer any point taking him to the compound.
Fuck. The bloody body on the floor brings me back to my senses. What the fuck is Prez going to say? My eyes meet Crash’s. “Look, I fuckin’ lost it, alright? Heart, fuck. Heart didn’t deserve that. And he ran Heart off the road so he could get hold of the kid? That’s fuckin’ deep shit, Brother. And he laughed! He fuckin’ laughed!” Echoes of Archer’s proud mirth seem to be all I can hear.
Crash quickly moves across to me, his hand touches my arm. “I understand, Brother. I’d have made the same call for one of our own. Fuck, it was hard for me to hear it and I don’t know Heart or Crystal. I’m just fuckin’ concerned what your prez will say. What if he was tellin’ the truth, and he was the only chance for him to keep hold of the kid?”
Now it’s over, it sinks in what I’ve done, and how much I’ve cocked up.
Crash tries to be supportive. “Slick, I’ll tell Drummer how it went down, and how that fucker wound you up. And at least we did what we came for.” He points to a body lying at the back of the room. “We took Lucas out, he won’t be torturin’ and abusin’ any more young kids.” Ignoring the dead man without a dick, I look past him to the man Crash pointed out. The VP’s right. His features match the photos Mouse had provided, and which I’d committed to memory. Not so much the deep hole in his chest. I should have checked that first, that we’d killed the man we’d come for... Fuck, there’s a reason I’m not officer material.
“Let’s finish up.” Crash signals to Rope and Cuff, who’ve been silent but watching, then leads me outside. As we get back to the bikes Road pulls up in the truck. The Vegas VP takes charge, walking over and saying some words. Road turns around and starts driving back.
On automatic pilot, I lay out the explosives and set the timer. We’re riding away as the whole place blows sky high. It will take weeks for them to put the all the pieces together. And yes, I do mean human parts.
For once I don’t feel the pride I normally do in my handiwork. Prez could take my patch.