Micah

 

Petrov's eyes widened just a fraction of an inch as he asked Kaci his question.

 

She feigned ignorance. “Who? Me?” she asked, laughing nervously.

 

A spike of fear immediately shot through me. I hadn't even thought about whether or not someone as far up the food chain as Efraim would ever recognize Kaci, just another girl working on her back. “This is over,” I said, my immediate focus on getting both my woman and myself out of there in one piece.

 

“Yes,” Efraim said, standing up from the picnic table abruptly and stepping clear of the bench. “I believe it is. Have a good life, Mr. Marlow.” And, with that, he turned and headed through the children to the six Storm’s Bloods who were assembled just a short distance away, glaring and pacing as they watched their boss approach them.

 

This didn't look good. Not at all. “We gotta go,” I said, grabbing Kaci by the forearm and jumping up from the bench with the folder tightly gripped.

 

“What the fuck?” Kaci squalled as I bodily ripped her from the table and dragged her tiny frame behind me, her heels sliding through the grass as she tried to find purchase. “Micah! You're hurting me!”

 

“Move, Kaci!” I said, my voice low and serious. I glanced back over my shoulder as she finally found her footing and started tramping through the grass beside me.

 

Efraim had finally met with his Storm’s Blood security. He looked back at us, pointedly, then turned back to his security detail and gave a sharp nod. Three of the Riders crossed after us. Not running, just walking quickly as we headed back to my bike, and away from innocent bystanders.

 

I wanted to head straight for Gov and Agent Brumfield, who were parked with the rest of their team right around the corner, but heading that way would take me through a long expanse of empty park. At least, this direction led to my bike, and a reasonable getaway. I could meet up with the feds later, if we made it out of this without any new holes to breathe through.

 

“Three of them are following us.” I said to Kaci under my breath. “When I tell you to run, I want you to run. Got it?”

 

Still rubbing her arm where I'd grabbed her, she simply nodded. She reached down, grabbed my hand tightly and squeezed harder. She was shaking like a leaf, and I couldn't blame her. Not one bit.

 

We broke through a line of trees, and my bike was finally within sight. I glanced back in time to see the Storm’s Bloods pick up their pace to close the gap. They were three abreast, maybe ten feet apart, and all ugly as sin. Big bruisers with necks tattoos, swastikas on their upper arms, and grimy oil-covered jeans.

 

Up ahead, though, I could see a New Orleans transit cop making his rounds. Sure, he wasn't Agent Brumfield and her feds or anything, but he was at least a law enforcement officer.

 

“Run,” I yelled, pulling Kaci along with me as I took off a breakneck speed. I glanced back over my shoulder as we sprinted off, saw the Rider on my right reaching inside his vest.

 

The three of them took off after us, with the one on the right dropping his hand from inside his vest so he could catch up. Beside me, Kaci huffed and puffed, her long legs still having to work extra hard to keep up with me.

 

“Stop!” one of the Storm’s Bloods yelled. Whether it was at me, or the guy who'd gone to draw his gun earlier, I had no idea.

 

I looked back, my heart thumping so hard I worried it might rip out of my chest and just keep on running if I stumbled.

 

The guy on the right had drawn his pistol, stopped, and leveled the barrel at us. He had to have been more than thirty or forty feet away, but if he was a good enough shot that wouldn't matter much.

 

There's two rules a man should live by. Don't bring a knife to a gunfight. And, don't stay at a gunfight when you don't have a gun.

 

“Get down!” I yelled, pulling Kaci to the ground with me as the loud pops of gunfire split the city air. The wire I wore beneath my shirt had been uncomfortable before, but now it was digging into my chest as I sandwiched it between my chest and the park.

 

I found a distant part of my brain wondering if the FBI would send me a bill if I broke it, just as I heard the bullets whiz over us like angry hornets, spinning through the air as they continued onto into the city street ahead. We buried ourselves in the grass, hands cradling the backs of our heads.

 

Another pop of a gun firing, another bullet flying by. This time, it kicked up grass just to my left, barely missing me by a couple feet.

 

That was about enough for me! If they got any closer, I was going to have to risk running, which was never a good idea. It just gave a shooter time to line up his shot.

 

I glanced up, saw the cop car stop with its lights on. A police officer was already out and came running from the passenger side, sprinting towards us. The patrol car took off, its lights still going, as it headed up to the other side of the park.

 

Beside me, Kaci stirred in the grass, rolling over on her side. “Shit,” she groaned, her voice breathless.

 

Panic flashed inside me. “You hit?” I asked, my voice coming out more frantic than I'd intended.

 

“No,” she gasped out. “Wind knocked from me, that's all.”

 

I rolled over a little and looked back as the cop came running up to us, his walkie-talkie chattering like the whole department was on the horn.

 

“In pursuit,” he yelled into the crackle, pop, hiss as he gripped the radio on his shoulder. He went running past us, his boots tramping through the perfectly manicured grass. “Stay down,” he yelled at us as he headed into the park after the three Storm’s Bloods.

 

I looked at Kaci as soon as the cop passed us, and she nodded immediately. We didn't have any intention of sticking around. Together, we climbed to our feet and went off at a run, angling towards my bike.

 

The moments trudged by as we ran to it, my head pounding, my feet slapping the ground. Every step we took was one that brought us closer to safety and took us farther from danger. We hopped on the back of my chopper and I started her up. We took off down the street, headed for our rendezvous point with Gov, Brumfield, and the rest.

 

“That,” Kaci shouted right into my ear, over the roar of my bike, “is the only time I've ever been glad to see a cop!”

 

I grinned back at her, my adrenaline finally wearing off. We'd made it out alive. But, the real question was whether or not we'd gotten enough to convict Efraim Petrov.

 

# # #

Kaci

 

“None of it?” Micah, seated beside me, asked with a look of total dejection on his face. “You've got to be fucking shitting me! I ruined my fucking life over this!”

 

I silently shook my head, my fists resting on my thighs, balled up tighter than a whore's pussy on her first day. I couldn't believe this. All that trouble, all that effort, Micah ruining his life, me not taking my shot.

 

We were sitting in the back of the FBI's surveillance van, surrounded by radio transmitters and blinking screens. I might have even thought it was cool, like we were in an episode of CSI: New Orleans or some shit, but I was too damned pissed to think straight.

 

I just kept shaking my head, my teeth grinding away.

 

“There's just not enough there,” Avery explained. “We send that to a judge for a warrant to search his holdings, or even to get just a wiretap, we'll get laughed right out. The US Attorney's office won't take less than a complete admission by Petrov. You knew that going in, Micah.”

 

“Goddammit!” Micah shouted, pounding his fist on the desk he was pulled up next to. He bit his knuckle violently, his eyes wild.

 

Micah had thrown his life away for me. But I'd thrown away the last chance I had to kill Efraim.

 

Children around, or not, I could have just taken the shot. The Russian's motherfucker's bodyguards couldn't have done shit to stop me. It would have just been pop-pop, you're dead. I looked up at Agent Brumfield and caught her staring at me. “What else can we do?” I asked. “I want this fucker, Avery.”

 

“We?” she asked, shaking her head before leaning forward. “We don't do anything, Kaci. You guys are out of it, at least for a while. The other agents and I will see what else can be done, though.”

 

And, with that, we were out of the loop. Micah and I rode home together, our bodies as tense as our minds. If I only hadn't stuck my nose into this, we would have been fine. If Gov had gone along instead of me, Efraim wouldn't have been the wiser in any way.

 

This was my fault.

 

I'd blown my chance.

 

We were out of it for good.

 

At least, though, I got to keep Micah. That by itself was almost enough to soothe any wound.

 

Micah's phone buzzed as we pulled into the garage. He pulled the phone out, showed me that it was Avery Brumfield calling already, then answered. “Yeah?”

 

“What?” Micah asked, his voice sounding confused and distant. “Why? Why would they do that?”

 

Micah paused, listening to whatever it was she had to say.

 

“Alright,” he said, his face downcast. “We're on our way.”

 

“What's going on?” I asked as he turned the bike right back around and he went to start it up. “What's wrong, babe?”

 

“Grandpa Xaiver,” he said. “He's dead, baby.”