Micah

 

“Cater to his ego,” Agent Brumfield said as she set her beer down. “He's an arrogant asshole, surrounded by yes men.”

 

“Really pump it up,” Grandpa Quentin added. “Get him so puffed he feels ten feet tall and strong as Superman.”

 

“You gotta admit you never could've beat him,” Avery added, “and that's why you want to join him now.”

 

That last one stung a bit, having to admit that I would've lost in the long run. But, it was partially true, I guess. That'd make the lying easier. Lies are always easier to wrap up when there's a nugget of truth hidden inside. I nodded along with it all the same, though.

 

“And remember,” Grandpa Quentin added, “you gotta get him talking about everything, about all his dealings overseas. Enough that they can nail him on something when it goes in front of a jury.”

 

Saying I needed to get him to admit all his shit was one thing, though. Tricking him into doing it was something else altogether. “How should I get his confidence?” I asked.

 

“Here,” Agent Brumfield said, getting up and going into the living room to pull a file from her briefcase. “Almost forgot,” she called from the other room, then came back in with a manila folder outstretched in front of her like an offering.

 

“What's this?” I asked as I took it.

 

“Details on a government contract,” she replied. “Bidding process, along with sealed bids from a couple other companies.”

 

I opened the folder and began looking through the papers. Looked official and on the up and up. I didn't know the first thing about federal contracts, though. “Explain why it's important?” I asked as I kept leafing through the papers.

 

“These are the bids from other arms providers to the state of Louisiana, to arm their SWAT and National Guard forces,” Agent Brumfield said. “It basically gives Petrov all the information he needs to underbid all the competitors, but stay in a sweet enough spot to make sure he gets the contract.”

 

Gov whistled low as I kept flipping. I glanced up at him, but I still didn't get the significance.

 

“It's basically free, almost legal money,” Gov explained. “No one has those bids, so Efraim gets a free payday when you hand him that folder.”

 

“And it's real?” I asked, incredulous.

 

“Yep,” Agent Brumfield said, nodding. “Don't let anyone else see it, though. We needed it to look genuine, so I, uh, borrowed the file from a friend. We'll switch it out when we're done, so it doesn't make it into evidence. Luckily, though, if you get caught with it by a normal cop, there won't be any explaining to do.”

 

“’Cause they won't know what it is, mainly,” Grandpa Quentin clarified.

 

“So, I give him this,” I said, closing the folder and pushing it away from me, “suck up, play nice, get him talking. Then what?”

 

“Then we give you immunity on this,” Agent Brumfield said, opening up a new beer. “You, the rest of the MC. Then, you move onto Witpro.”

 

I nodded along, my eyes focused on that manila folder in front of me. I'd seen some of the numbers in there, numbers with lots and lots of dollar signs and zeroes. Real money, not this crap we were pulling down with the MC.

 

But, I had to forget about all that. Because I was going into protection. My life was going to be gone, disappeared. I was going to be disappeared. But, at least I'd be taking Kaci with me. I could live with that.

 

And besides, everyone else would be safe.

 

I nodded again. As long as the rest of the MC was able to stay clear of this, my biggest fuck up, I'd be fine. I wouldn't pull anyone else down with me, not like my father almost did all those years ago.

 

“Alright,” I said, finally. “Let's do this.”

 

# # #

Kaci

 

“I don't give two shits about what you think you gotta do!” Grin yelled right in Micah's face, flecks of spittle flying everywhere. His face was redder than a beet, and veins were popping out all over like he'd been shooting ‘roids for the last six months.

 

The look on Micah's face was calm though, collected, almost serene.

 

“Look,” my newly-minted partner in crime said, “I understand you don't want me to split from the club, but I have to. If I don't, we'll be having even worse things coming down the pike.”

 

Damn it was weird to call him that. Partner. It had a nice ring to it, though. I hadn't had anything like him since I was back home. All I'd had were all the men, and that didn't count for much of anything.

 

But now I had Micah.

 

Too bad I might have to lose him, too, when I went after Efraim again.

 

“Grin,” Gov added in a slightly frustrated voice, “just sit your ass down and listen to some fucking reason for once in your miserable life.”

 

“You can't leave the club, though! We've always had a Marlow in the lead!”

 

“And, maybe,” Micah said, pausing to take a deep sigh, “just maybe, that's been the problem. You guys can handle this just fine without me around. Probably better.”

 

Grin grunted and crossed his arms as he sat back down in his seat. He was still stewing, I could tell.

 

“What's the plan then? Why're we doing this?”

 

“To take the heat off you,” Micah reminded him. “Less y'all know, the better.”

 

“Agreed,” Gov said.

 

“Fine,” Grin said, harrumphing again. “What's going to happen, then?”

 

“You're gonna kick my ass at the big rally this weekend.”

 

Grin barked out a harsh laugh and shook his head. “Ain't no one gonna believe that, Don.”

 

“They will if you make it look good enough. What's that old quote? No one believes a little lie, but everyone believes a big one?”

 

After that, we closed down the meeting. We kept what was going to happen to just the top three men in the club. The less they knew, the better. At least, that was the way Micah saw things. I tended to agree.

 

After that, we closed down the meeting. We kept what was going to happen to just the top three men in the club. The less they knew, the better. At least, that was the way Micah saw things. I tended to agree.

 

With Grin gone, Micah pulled Gov aside. “Alright,” Micah said, “here's the deal. I need you to set the meeting, but you gotta do it in person, up at his offices in Baton Rouge. Can't have this tracked back to us if things go tits up, right?”

 

“Alright, Don, anything. You got a place in mind? Like a hotel?”

 

“The Renaissance, downtown. Tell him one other person will be coming with me as backup.”

 

Gov nodded, scratched his chin. “Sounds good to me. When should I leave?”

 

“Today. Right now, even,” Micah said, clapping his buddy on the shoulder. “Should be able to make it there and back before any of the guys notice you're gone.”

 

“Got it,” he said, then turned and left without even a second thought. One thing about Gov I liked is that he always seemed to do what he said was going to do. And he did it when he said it, too.

 

I knew it was going to hurt Micah to have to leave Gov behind. I understood, because it was going to hurt just as much to abandon Sydney this way, and to cut off what little life I'd already built up here. But, it was what I had to do. This meeting with the Bear was my last chance.

 

“Micah, babe,” I said to get his attention after Gov left the room and shut the door carefully behind him.

 

“Yeah? What's up?” he asked as he turned to me.

 

“I want to be in that room with you. When you meet with Efraim.”

 

Micah eyed me carefully, measuring whether I was trying to pull a fast one on him. “Why?”

 

“You need me there,” I said, licking my lips and thinking through my words carefully, “to make sure you don't go and get all cocky with the plan.”

 

“What makes you think I'd do that?”

 

I laughed, maybe a little bit too dismissively. “I saw the way you looked when Agent Brumfield gave you that folder. It looked like you'd just seen dollar signs, a new opportunity.”

 

It was a shot in the dark I was taking, but I had a feeling I was right.

 

He leaned back a little, his brow furrowed in consternation. He went to say something, but I interjected before the words could leave his mouth.

 

“'Sides,” I continued, pressing my point, “you're an ornery biker. You need a smooth-talking pro, like me, there. I'll be a good distraction, keep him on his toes. And we need him on his toes. This guy's like a fucking Bond villain or some shit, babe. Besides, who do you want watching your back with the Feebs? Me, some streetwalker? Or an ex-agent?”

 

He sighed and drummed his fingers on the meeting table, his eyes turned away from me, but unfocused as he looked off into space. He was thinking my idea over, which meant I had him hooked.

 

I hated having to manipulate him like this, and I felt as gutted as catfish that took its last bait. But, I needed to be in that room. And, honestly, I think I needed him to hate me a little bit at the end of this. If he really cared for me when it was all said and done, the pain he'd feel would be a thousand times worse.

 

“Okay,” he slowly said after a moment, dragging it out into almost two words, “but you gotta promise me something.”

 

“Anything,” I said, smiling that he'd let me convince him. “Just name it.”

 

“Give me your word me you won't do something stupid, like try to kill Efraim while we're on tape.”

 

I nodded quickly, maybe a little too quickly, and held up right hand with its three fingers extended. “Girl scout's honor,” I said.

 

He nodded as he glanced at my fingers, a little smile turning up just the corners of his mouth. “Good. We'll see what Efraim has to say, but you can come with me.”

 

I smiled a little, happy that he was bringing me along. Inside, though, I was reeling from the choice I'd made. This was my chance to finally get the Bear for Romeo's death. But, if I was going to take it, I was going to have to throw away the best thing that had ever happened to me.

 

Because, unfortunately, the joke was on Micah.

 

I was never a girl scout.