CHAPTER Thirteen
It was nine o’clock before Boss came dragging into the clubhouse. Nobody there had slept at all except R.C. She was on the way to the kitchen, expecting breakfast, as Boss was coming in the door.
She looked at him curiously.
“Long story,” he said. “Give me eggs, bacon, coffee, and I’ll tell it.”
“You want to eat my cooking?” she asked.
“Fuck no. Gotta be somebody around who can fry an egg.”
They were sitting in the kitchen while Bo served up breakfast. Bertalia was off on Sunday mornings, but Bo was not a bad cook. Catcher strode in and changed the big screen security grid over to local TV where they saw a big banner at the bottom announcing ‘breaking news’ .
A young Hispanic man stood at the gate of the scene. “Property ownership has been traced to a Las Vegas shell corporation. Law enforcement officials are investigating further.”
The report alternated between shots of the farm house, shots of the entrance to Night Flight, and clips of interviews with abducted girls talking about their nightmare experience from hospital rooms. “We’re just grateful to the guys who found us.”
That prompted a couple of high fives over the kitchen table.
R.C. looked at Win across the table as he took a sip of coffee then realized it wouldn’t be prudent for somebody to witness that exchange. They might get the wrong idea.
Or the right one.
Boss was uncharacteristically quiet as he finished shoveling in eggs and gulping down coffee. “Who’s on hostage duty?”
Cue said, “Smash.”
Boss nodded thoughtfully. “Goin’ on lockdown right now. Get the word out. Women and children need to be here within the hour. Tell ‘em not to take time to pack. We can get whatever they need. Cue, you organize escorts.” Cue nodded. “Armed,” Boss added.
To R.C., he said, “You stay put where you belong till this is over, missy.” For once, R.C. didn’t argue with her dad. She just nodded. “Need the words, sugar.”
“I will stay in Austin until you give the all clear.”
Boss gave the slightest nod. “That place you got there. It’s got security?”
She barked out a laugh. “Doorman. Keyed elevator. Got a remote for my personal alarm system in every room and it’s wired directly to instant response monitoring. Plus, I got the shotgun you gave me in my closet. Crimson Trace Glock in the kitchen. Laser Sig under my pillow.”
“That is not enough guns,“ Boss said.”Whachu got in the car?”
“Ruger Centerfire.”
“Jesus,” Win said.
Boss looked at him. “We got legal carry here, recruit. She’s got a license.”
Win took in a deep breath, but said nothing more.
Boss went on talking to his daughter like nobody else was there. “You get home, you let me know you’re there. Call in sick tomorrow. You gotta have groceries or whatever, have the doorman take delivery. But hear me good, Grace, you need to hunker down and stay put. Right now you’re the valuable target that could bring us all down. You hearin’ me?”
Win looked at R.C. and could not suppress outright laughter. “Grace?” He realized too late that no one else was laughing.
R.C. turned to her father. “I. Will. Kill. You.”
“Get in line. But you’ll have to wait until this is over.” Boss looked like someone unseen was talking to him just before he looked at Win and said, “You awake enough to take my kid to get her car?”
Win glanced at R.C. before saying, “Yeah.”
“On second thought, forget her car. If people see it in the parking lot at her place here, they’ll think she is here. Garrett, you put her in that black Ford out there. The one with the real black windows. Drive her home. Make sure she gets inside safe. On her own personal lockdown. Then hightail it back here. Got plans afoot.
“Roar, put a couple of guys on their tail as escort outta town. Make sure they’re not bein’ followed before you peel off. Take off now and meet up with your escort at Stripes. The one at Sun Valley and Old Temple.”
Roar grabbed two pieces of toast off his plate as he was standing up. “Yeah, Boss.”
To R.C., Boss said, “You know how to find that Stripes?”
“Grew up here, Pop.”
“That an answer?”
“Yes. I know how to find it.”
“Christ, you are difficult.” He turned to focus on Win. “Give them fifteen minutes, then put this pain in my ass in the floorboard of that Ford until you’re out of town. Stop at that Stripes to get gas so you can pick up your escort.”
“Got it.” Win yawned.
“You can sleep when you get back,” Boss said. “Load up on those…” He turned to Cue. “What do you call those?”
“Monster drinks.”
“Yeah. Get yourself a carload of those when you’re at Stripes.”
R.C. had her head between her knees in the passenger side of the Ford. “It’s weird traveling like this. Feeling every little stop and start and turn and engine doohickey, but not bein’ able to see out.”
“After we get south of town and traffic thins out, you can sit up.” He pulled into Stripes. “Gonna top off the gas like Boss said. Then I’m goin’ in there and get some of those caffeine-rich concoctions.”
“Do not get monster drinks. Get Red Bull. Not the sugar free kind. It’s awful. Get the fully leaded. It’s not bad and it works. To a point.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Means you will get the wild-eyed caffeine shakes if you have more than one.”
“Look. After we get out of town. Why don’t you pull over and switch with me? Catch a nap while I drive us in to Austin.”
“I’m not nappin’.”
“Why not?”
“’Cause.”
“’Cause why?”
“Just ‘cause.”
“Are you ten? Stop sayin’ that and tell me the reason.”
“’Cause I want to spend time with you while I can. Don’t want to sleep through it.” R.C.’s heart seized in her chest. Her mind froze, as did her tongue. “So you make me say it out loud and I get nothin’?”
“I’m… overwhelmed.”
“In a good way?”
“In a good way.”
“When this is over, look for me to show up at your door. First, we’re gonna enjoy a nice long slow fuck. And it’s gonna be good.” R.C. looked straight ahead out the windshield while her thighs clenched convulsively. “Then we’re gonna hold each other and drown in long slow kisses that last for hours and talk about what’s gonna happen next.”
She swallowed hard. “Okay,” she whispered.
“Okay?” He smiled. She smiled shyly in return. “I’m looking forward to it, Grace.”
She wheeled on him with eyes sparking like dragon fire. “DON’T YOU EVER CALL ME THAT AGAIN AS LONG AS YOU LIVE, WIN GARRETT! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?” When Win only laughed in response, she said, “I’M NOT KIDDING!”
“Simmer down. I agree that I won’t call you that unless you irritate me past the patience of a dead man.”
The gate guard at R.C.’s building wouldn’t let them into the parking garage without the official sticker for the car. R.C. was exasperated by that, but Win felt good about their level of distrust.
“You’ll have to go around to the front, Ms. Greer. Sorry.”
When they pulled up in front, Win said, “Want to see your place, but it’s gonna have to wait. Boss man said to hightail it back.”
“You gonna be careful?” she asked.
“Don’t wanna die if that’s what you mean.”
She threw herself across the console separating the bucket seats into a kiss goodbye. He didn’t want to let her go any more than she wanted to see him drive away.
She ran her hand over his jaw. He hadn’t shaved in a day and, even though his beard was a light golden color, it was visible. “Like the scruff.”
Win smiled. “Go on now.” That sounded a little more breathless than he intended. “I’m gonna watch you go inside. You do what your pop said. Don’t come out again until he tells you. Okay?” She nodded. “Shortly behind gettin’ that call, I’m gonna be here for you.”
She nodded again, clutched her big purse to her chest and got out of the SUV. “Promise?”
“Arcy. There aren’t enough angels in heaven or demons in hell to keep me away.”
She smiled, but her eyes went that deep bayou green and liquid.
Christ. How could a man fall so hard so fast?
As promised, he watched her speak to the doorman. She slipped inside, but not casting a look back over her shoulder, that reminded him of that first night in the clubhouse as she left with her childhood friend, Robin.
On the drive back to Waco he pondered how life could be strange. He didn’t believe in ‘meant to be’ crap, but did mull over the fact that he’d soon be returning to Austin having connected with a guy who offered unexpected friendship and a woman who looked a lot like the future.
When Win stepped back into the clubhouse, he did so with caffeine shakes and not a prayer of falling asleep anytime soon. Bo was behind the bar, but he was the only person in sight.
“What’s goin’ on?” Win asked.
“Everybody’s been busy gettin’ the families in house.”
“Where’s Boss?”
“Think he was sleepin’ for a little while. Might be in the office now.”
“Okay. Takin’ a shower if somebody needs me.”
Win took a shower, changed into clean clothes, but still felt too wired to sleep. So he went searching for information on new developments.
When he peeked down the hallway that led to security, he saw that Boss’s door was open. He knocked on the jamb.
“Package has been delivered.”
Boss looked up. “Good. Takes a load off my mind. Soon as all the families are in, we’ll move on to Phase 2.”
“What’s that?”
“Members met while you were travelin’. Made some decisions about what to do with Stars and Bars. I cast your vote by proxy. Knew it would be okay with you.”
Win smirked. “Thanks.”
“Anytime. We’ve decided their presence can no longer be tolerated. The only acceptable outcome is exile.”
“No.” Win shook his head.
“No?”
“That is not acceptable. Those guys need to be ended. Anything else, they’ll just go somewhere else and do the same.”
Boss sighed deeply. “I see you feel strongly about this. And I find that commendable. Thing is, I spent some time wearin’ orange when R.C. was little. Her mama was gone and she had to live with Zipper and Carla.
“Bottom line, I’m not lookin’ to spend any more of my time that way. Life is short and it’s even shorter if you spend some of it as a prisoner.”
He stopped, either to make sure Win was processing what he was saying or to see if Win had a response.
“Now I got a plan. It’s a plan that could end this shameful activity without endangerin’ my freedom. Or that of any member of this club.” Win looked dubious. “You’ll see. It’s gonna work out.”
“Say I go along and, since I already voted by proxy, I guess I do. What happens next?”
“We got a meetin’ with S&B tomorrow. It’s all set up. Got the back room of the Double D reserved for eighteen. Nine of theirs. Nine of ours. No more than another fourteen, seven and seven, can be hangin’ around outside.”
“They know about Cramer?”
“Sure as fuck they suspect. By the time we get all the women and kids outta harm’s way, they’ll know for sure. They’ll be comin’ pissed. Mad as hornets about that little weasel, mad as hornets about losin’ human cargo, and they’re gonna be even madder than that when they hear the surprise I got for ‘em.
“We’ll be usin’ our carry licenses and ready for anything. If they’re businessmen, we’ll come to a peaceful understanding. But we’ll be ready for crazy, just in case.”
“What’s that?”
Boss tapped his temple. “Still germinatin’. My solution that’s in the works may not be as satisfyin’ as a mass grave, but it’s a hell of a lot safer for the family men and just as effective at puttin’ an end to the trafficking.”
“Tomorrow night.”
“Yeah. Go get some sleep.”
That was exactly what Win wanted, but he decided to make a phone call first.
“Yeah?” Brant said, sounding as irritable as always.
“Here’s the shit. Things comin’ to a head fast. Meeting goin’ down at Double D tomorrow night. Everybody will be armed and it’s bikers.”
“Y’all have anythin’ to do with that story on the news?”
“You saw that?”
“Girls in the middle of Texas bein’ grabbed for slavery?” Brant snorted. “Yeah. We saw it.”
“Yeah. We had everything to do with it.”
“Understood. I’ll pass the message on. You just get on your bike and start this way. You’re done.”
“Thing is, I’m not.”
“Yeah, you are. Consider it an order. Time to go.”
“I’m in this now, prez.”
“No.”
“Look. If things go best case scenario, there won’t be any incident. I’m just tellin’ you so the Ranger knows to keep an eye out. Tell him for him and his friends to keep their distance unless there’s live fire. The prez here, he may be able to work this out without goin’ there.”
“Jesus, Garrett. There’s no reason for you to be in the middle of this.”
“Got my reasons.”
He heard a big sigh. “We’re gonna leave the light on. You get outta there at the first sign of trouble.” When Win hesitated, Brant said, “Or don’t come back. If you can’t follow my orders, you’re no good to me.”
“Okay. You win. Shots get fired. I’m gone.”
“Tomorrow night, you’re back here. Either way.”
“All right.”
“Call me when you’re back on the premises.”
“Yep.”
At six thirty the parking lot of the Double D started to fill up with motorcycles. At least that’s how it seemed. Motorcycles have a way of multiplying in the eye. They look like there are more than there actually are.
Four different law enforcement agencies had representatives keeping an eye on the situation. They’d been instructed to hang back unless a crime was committed, and that’s what they intended to do.
The Double D was normally closed on Mondays, but Boss had made opening for a private affair a very attractive proposition.
The menu was simple. Ribs. Corn on the cob. French fries. Biscuits. Beer.
Boss figured, if you could keep men’s hands busy with eatin’ good food, there was less chance those hands would go reachin’ for weapons. Beer didn’t jump people up like booze. Beer was friendly. It was what you did with friends and neighbors.
Such were the thoughtful plans of a leader willing to leave to chance only what had to be left to chance.
He’d given careful instruction about the arrangement of tables into two horseshoes. Boss would sit at one end with Marauders facing each other, four and four. There would be a space between tables for servers to walk. A mirror horseshoe at the other end would seat Dredge with eight of his guys in mirror formation.
Like a meeting of foreign dignitaries, there were diplomatic protocols to follow. Neither of the clubs would enter the reserved room and be seated until both were there. If one club arrived late and the other was seated, waiting, it would be a sign of disrespect.
Of course the Marauders did hold grudging disrespect for the Stars & Bars, but making that too evident too early in the process would be counterproductive. So they’d play the game and observe tradition.
Boss left Zipper to guard Cramer, thinking rightly that Zipper was too closely connected to the sins of Stars & Bars. He took Roar, Smash, Cue, Cowpie, Paul, Cuervo, Jack, and, to his very great surprise, Win. Catcher was among the seven selected to remain outside and make sure that things remained calm, orderly, and according to plan.
Boss came roaring in leading a parade of fifteen motorcycles in a deafening announcement of arrival. Seeing that some of the Stars & Bars had parked on the south side of the entrance, Boss backed his bike into the beginning of a row on the north.
Inside the bar restaurant, Dredge and his boys were waiting to go into the room set aside for the meeting. When Boss entered, their heads turned to showcase glares that made their feelings crystal clear.
“Evenin’,” Boss said, entirely too cheerfully. But the club with the upper hand could afford to be friendly. “Let’s get to it.”
He led his little procession into the reserved space and took the tables at the far end. The disadvantage of that was that they’d be farthest from the door. The advantage was that they could see the door. The disadvantage was mitigated by an emergency exit door within a couple of steps of Boss’s chair.
The Stars & Bars filed in wordlessly with sullen expressions like teenagers being called on the carpet of the principal’s office, but hoping to maintain some of their dignity.
Waitresses wearing boots, scandalously short cutoff jeans, and tops that were basically front closure bras with fringe, began serving pitchers of beer with flirtatious smiles. They figured out in short order that none of the men were there to flirt.
The representatives of the two clubs stared at each other while women clad in the risqué versions of ‘cowgirl’ costumes served big platters of food. Marauders dug in happily and commented to each other how good it was while Stars & Bars stared, refusing to touch any of the food.
“Not hungry?” Boss said, chewing on corn from an ear in his hand. “Too bad. You should eat up ‘cause this is gonna be your last meal in Waco.”
Dredge’s nostrils flared. “That right?” he asked with an accent far too ‘Southern’ for modern times.
“Yeah,” Boss said happily, picking up a rib. “That’s right. This is good stuff. You should have some. For the road.” He looked around at the other Marauders and laughed, saying, “Unless you’re wantin’ to take it to go.”
The Marauders obliged by laughing, which made Dredge fume even more and cross his arms over his chest. “If you think my operation can’t sustain one hit, you’re sadly mistaken.”
Boss put his food down and grew serious. The other Marauders took his lead and did the same. “You missin’ somebody?”
Dredge held Boss’s gaze. “You got my boy? That what this is about? Shakedown?”
“You don’t want him back?”
“Depends on the price.”
“I figured you’d say somethin’ like that.” Boss turned to the Marauders. “They don’t seem to think much of the concept of loyalty.”
Cue shook his head with disdain.
“No. We weren’t countin’ on you to care about your members. We are, however, countin’ on you carin’ something about your womenfolk.”
Dredge looked confused. “Womenfolk,” he repeated.
“Even scum like you have somebody they care about. Usually.’”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“What’s it mean?” Boss seemed to be giving that some thought. He reached inside his cut where he’d had Bertalia attach several sheets of trifolded paper. As everyone looked on, he unfolded the paper and said, “Well, let’s see here. Choc.” One of the S&B looked up. “That you?” Boss glanced down at the paper again. “Yeah. That’s you. Got a niece named Scarlett.” Boss looked at his men. “That’s cute. Like Gone With The Wind. Seventeen years old. She’s not that cute, but the kind of men who want to play with captives aren’t all that picky.”
Choc stood up and looked overly excited. “What’ve you done?!?”
“Calm down. No worries. My people’ve got her. She’s safe and sound. For now.”
Choc’s face changed from panicked to sneering. “You don’t got shit.”
Boss held the man’s gaze without flinching. “Why don’t you call her mother?” Boss glanced down. “Ask your sister if she knows where Scarlett is.”
Choc stood up, pulled out his phone, stepped to the corner and held the phone to his ear.
In a few seconds everybody in the room could hear Choc talking. “You check around. Make sure she’s there. Call me back.”
Boss began going around Dredge’s table naming young family members one by one, claiming they were out of pocket. Finally he came to Dredge. “Claudia.” Dredge’s eyes flared. “You were in foster care with her? She’s kinda old for this sorta thing, but like I told Choc there, guys who are interested in raping girls taken as slaves aren’t all that particular.”
Pretty soon everybody at the S&B end of the room were on their phones frantically discussing the whereabouts of this person or that. Everybody except Dredge’s V.P., the guy Cue had described as tall and ugly. It turned out that Cue’s description had been kind.
Boss had gone back to eating. He turned to Roar. “Send some more of those fries down this way, would ya?”
After ten minutes of watching the Stars & Bars try unsuccessfully to prove that Boss was bluffing, they stood in a huddle at the far end of the room. Apparently Dredge told them to retake their seats because they all returned to the chairs they’d occupied prior to Boss’s revelation.
“What do you want?” Dredge said.
“Just what I told you at the Harley dealership last time we met. I want you and your friends gone for good. If you choose to leave right now, get on your bikes and head east, the women on this list will be returned unharmed. This will just serve as a reminder that you’re not the only one who can take people who mean somethin’ to somebody else.
“This is gonna serve as a reminder that Marauders have a far reach. We ever get wind that you’re backslidin’ into activities that involve takin’ people against their will? We know everything there is to know about you, your families, your associates, and your suppliers. Every one of them has somebody they want to keep safe. From now on that’s up to you.”
“We woulda moved on,” Dredge said. “My business model don’t call for stayin’ in one place too long.”
“Then why’d you fuck up one of my boys?”
“Just to send a message to stay outta our way.”
“A message. I got selective hearin’.”
“This is bullshit.” That came from the S&B V.P. who, undoubtedly, was speaking out of turn, but loose discipline in a club like S&B didn’t surprise Boss at all.
“Shut up,” Dredge growled. “We agree.”
“Very well,” said Boss. “Just to reiterate. You’re leaving right now. You’re not packin’ a bag or sayin’ goodbye to whores. You’ll be on the other side of Louisiana by mornin’. Is that your understandin’?”
“Yes,” said Dredge.
“I’m gonna need you to expound on that. I want to hear you describe our agreement, in words, so that everybody’s clear.”
“Stars & Bars are leavin’ out. Right now,” Dredge started. “We’re not comin’ back and we’re not takin’ girls. Anymore. Ever.”
“Okay.” Boss nodded. “I think we understand each other. You can go.”
Dredge shoved back from the table, stood, and stomped out. S&B went with him.
Win was gaping internally. He thought Boss had managed to get rid of the scourge without a single act of outward violence, unless you counted Zipper’s interrogation.
The Marauders followed S&B out to the parking lot.
Dredge pointed to the S&B members who had not been in the meeting, saying, “Get on your bikes. We’re leavin’.”
Catcher caught Win’s eye and asked the silent question. Win shook his head to mean, “Let’s get them gone. Then we’ll talk.”
Boss stood on the porch of the Double D flanked by Marauders on both sides. It looked like he was going to pull off a strategic manipulation of epic proportions, right up until the S&B V.P. pulled out a pistol and aimed it at Boss.
Cue saw what was happening fast enough to shove Boss aside and take the bullet meant for the prez. As he went down everybody pulled out weapons. Catcher shot the V.P. in the ass, sending him to the pavement howling like a dog whose hind end had been run over.
The fire fight didn’t last long. Win had purposefully parked his bike on the far end of the row of Marauder motorcycles. He started in that direction, but looked back. Dredge was turning his pistol in Catcher’s direction. Catcher was standing in the middle of the parking lot firing at S&B members like he thought he was wearing some kind of magical flak suit that made him uniquely invincible.
Without hesitation Win drew his gun and fired, hitting Dredge in the throat. Catcher pivoted in time to see Win putting his gun away and straddling his bike.
Hearing sirens approaching, Win took off in the opposite direction, which meant across a vacant lot, a field, an abandoned strip center, and a rundown residential neighborhood. It was a miracle he didn’t tear up a tire, but he made it free and clear.
It was a long time before the adrenaline began to subside. He was halfway to Austin before he stopped shaking, at which point he yelled into the wind, “IT IS NOT A GOOD DAY TO DIE!” He laughed until he was hoarse, feeling more alive than he ever knew imaginable, with more to live for than he ever thought imaginable.
It was nine o’clock when he pulled up to the SSMC compound. It was late for somebody to be manning the gate, but there was a prospect ready to let him in. He supposed that was what Brant had meant by, ‘keep the light on for you’.
Inside all the SSMC members were gathered. They’d apparently been waiting for him. The giant screen TV was turned to news of the Waco motorcycle gang shootout.
Brant came forward and held a glass of whiskey. “Told ‘em where you been, what you’ve been doin’, and what I promised you. We’re all here to deliver on that promise.”
Win took the whiskey, eyes going to the screen. “What’s the outcome?”
“Three dead. Eleven wounded.”
“Who?”
Brant motioned to Arnold. “You got details?”
Arnold typed something into his phone. After a few seconds, he got a ping and read what was there. “Three members of the Stars & Bars motorcycle gang are dead, six wounded.” He looked at Win. “You care about the names?” Win shook his head. “Members of the Marauders motorcycle gang who were wounded. Chapel Roagsen, Paul Smith, Brendon Cravet, Marshall Polosek, and Travers Allender. The five are hospitalized and being held for questioning. Also held for questioning are Bolivar Greer, Stephen Queens, Mack Tripoli, and Travers Catch.”
Win handed the whiskey back to Brant. “I have to make a call.”
Win walked outside while club members exchanged looks.
“Win!” R.C. was sniffling like she’d been crying. “Thank God you’re okay. What happened? They’ve arrested Pop and half the MC. When you didn’t call, I thought maybe…”
“I know. I’m fine and everything else is gonna be okay. Cue took a bullet for Boss. Your dad is fine. They won’t be in jail long. I was there. Saw the whole thing.”
“Where are you?”
“Not in jail. Can you hold on for a couple of hours? If you can, I’ll be there.”
“You’re coming tonight?”
“Yeah. If you want me.”
“I do.”
“I’ll be there before midnight.”
“I’ll be waiting in the lobby downstairs. And, Win, I…”
“Yeah?”
“See you soon.”
“Okay.”
Win sat down at the bar with his whiskey snifter and told the gathering the entire story from beginning to end.
When he was finished, no one spoke except for Brant who, predictably, said, “Jesus.”
“Can’t say I got out clean.”
“How’s that?”
“Well, this girl…”
“R.C.,” they all said almost in unison.
He grinned. “Yeah. Arcy. So much for the plan to just sneak away and never have it found out I was a mole. The prez’s daughter…”
“We get it,” Brant said. “I’ll get in touch with this Bolivar Greer, when he’s outta jail, and come to an understanding with him.”
Win looked hopeful. “Yeah? You can do that?”
“Not much he can’t do,” Arnold said.
“Good to know. Now I…”
Again everyone spoke, almost in unison, “Want to go see R.C.” They all laughed.
Win smiled boyishly, almost like he was embarrassed about it. “Yeah. Wanna go see Arcy. I’m gonna take a shower first.”
“Good plan. How much you want to spend to get your new friends outta jail?” Brant asked.
“Whatever it takes,” Win said without hesitation.
Brant pulled him aside. “You sure you got that kind of scratch? We could be talkin’…”
“Yeah. I’m pretty sure I got it.”
Brant cocked his head to the side. “Okay. We’ll get to work on it tonight.”
Win happened to glance up at the big screen in time to see the camera zoom in on Catcher’s face. He was sitting down against a wall with his hands cuffed behind his back, but he winked and grinned at the camera.
Win blinked a few times, not being able to believe he’d done that.