“Thought you were never going to wake up,” says Jax as he opens the car door.
“With the way my head feels, I wish I hadn’t.”
“Vet thinks he was dosed,” states Reaper as he looks at the front of the house.
“Yeah, it figures.” Jax walks toward the house.
I limp behind him with my arm pulled up close to my chest. Felder may not have killed me, but he fucked me up.
Sitting at the front door is a brightly wrapped box. Jax reaches down and looks at the card attached to it. It’s addressed to me.
“Should we open it?” I ask, worried Felder has placed a bomb inside.
Jax shrugs, reaches down, and pulls the lid off. Inside is Tank’s head.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
“Fuck me,” says Reaper as he stares down at the perfectly severed head.
“There’s something in his mouth,” states Jax as he bends down and pulls it out. Unfurling the paper, he reads it aloud, “Flipped a coin, and you won! But don’t worry, I’ll be coming for all of you soon.”
Jax punches the front door, hard. “Motherfucker!”
“We need to go. I’ll take Tank. Let’s re-group at the clubhouse.”
I nod at Reaper, who seems strangely relaxed. I would have thought seeing his friend’s decapitated head in a box would have rattled him.
“Yeah,” agrees Jax as he puts the lid back on. “Then you and I are going to visit Petrov. So, for fuck’s sake, put on something more appropriate.”
“What, my tracksuit not good enough for him?” Jax levels me with a look, and I hold up both hands. “I was going to change.” I look at Reaper. “Can we stop by my house?”
“Yeah, man. You know you were lucky, yeah?”
I nod. I was lucky. If the FBI task force hadn’t done a background check on Felder, and he hadn’t gone poking around and discovered I was FBI, I’d be dead too.
WRAITH
I’m watching them from the house across the street. I have the occupant tied to a chair in the dining room. It’s a little old lady named Marjory Brightsight. She told me her name a dozen times, no doubt trying to appeal to my empathetic side. But Marjory isn’t the one I’m after. The two men standing with Flint Armstrong, aka Hook, they’re the ones I want. I watch as they all ride away. Flint in a car being driven by Reaper, VP of those bunch of miscreants.
Marjory makes a noise, and I look over my shoulder at her. “No need to worry. I’m going now. Do you live alone?” She nods vigorously. “I need the truth, Marjory. You see, I’m leaving now, and there’s no way you’re getting out of that chair without help. I don’t want your death on my conscience. So, I’ll ask again, do you live alone?”
Marjory shakes her head then nods. With a frustrated sigh, I remove the tape covering her mouth.
“Well?”
“M-My daughter calls in on me every night at six, but only on the nights she doesn’t go to book club. Not that I really believe there is a book club. I think she cheats on her husband on those nights. I’ll never understand the youth of today.”
“How old is your daughter?”
“Fifty-two.”
I laugh openly at the woman. “Fifty-two?” I shake my head and grin. “The youth of today. Okay, Marjory, if I leave the tape off, will you be quiet until your daughter gets here?”
“I might sing.”
I chuckle. “That’s fine. No screaming for help until I’m well away. Are we clear?”
“You’re not going to hurt me? Or ransack my house?”
“Not today. And Marjory, don’t open your door to strangers. Put in a peephole or chain. You can never be too careful.”
“I’ve never had a problem before.”
“And I don’t normally let people live.”
Marjory’s eyes go wide.
I wink at her and walk out the front door.
I’m dressed as a homeless man, and I’m sitting on the other side of the street from their clubhouse. It’s getting late in the day. They’ve called their members home. So many patched-in MC walk in and out. None pay me any attention. No one wants to have anything to do with the homeless. They avoid eye contact, it’s as though you don’t exist.
Hook finally arrives with Reaper, however, it’s not for long. No sooner does he limp into the clubhouse, than he and Jax walk out. They get into the same car he and Reaper arrived in and leave. Stumbling to my feet, I stagger down the street, down an alley, and jog to the car I have parked.
I’m sure Hook won’t let me kill Jax, but it’s not often he’s surrounded with so few men. I drive in the direction they were headed. It’s an older model Mustang with a horrible orange paint job, so it’s not hard to find it again in the traffic. Like the professional I am, I keep my distance, but it’s not long before I realize where they are headed—the Petrov estate.
We both take the same exit, but where they take the direct route to his home, I go a different way, so I’m not spotted. I park down the block from the house, but in this neighborhood, I’m going to stand out if I stay here too long. I’m surprised Alec is still here. I would have thought he would have moved on after my visit.
Throwing caution to the wind, I decide to drive past the main gate. Slowing down, I cast a glance up the driveway and see six guards, all of whom are staring back at me.
He’s definitely improved security since I was last here.
Not wanting to draw too much attention to myself, I drive away. I need to plan my next move.
HOOK
There wasn’t a lot of time to change and put on a wire. I’ve placed the small device in the bandage around my leg. There was no time to test it, so it’s with a wing and a prayer, I hope it’s working. Jax is on edge. The whole drive out, he was ranting about the Wraith and how lucky I was. Right now, I don’t feel lucky. The fucker stuck me twice while I was out. Sure, he missed everything vital, but it still hurts like a bitch.
Security at Petrov’s is over the top. They knew we were coming, but getting through the gate was an ordeal. We had to get out and submit to a pat-down. When the guard got to my leg, I held up a hand.
“Man, I know you have a job to do, but I got stabbed in the leg and shoulder. If you could be gentle, I’d appreciate it.”
The fucker smiled at me and was rough. Thankfully, he didn’t find the wire as he was looking for weaponry I’d already handed over.
When we pull up at the main house, Alec is waiting for us outside, a weird, gleeful smile on his face.
“Jax! You have news?”
Jax casts me a worried look and climbs out of the car, but it takes me a little longer to join them. I don’t hear their conversation, but both men are looking at me, and they stop talking by the time I reach them.
“You saw the Wraith?” asks Alec with a frown.
“Yeah, fucker got the best of me.”
“But he let you live?” The frown deepens.
“Yes, but he stabbed me twice first.”
“Why would he let you live?”
“Alec, he was clearly sending us a message. Hook is one of us, he’s patched. I’m not worried about him.”
Alec cocks his head to the side and nods once. “Come, let’s have a drink and find out what you know.”
Alec turns and walks into the house. Jax shakes his head slightly and shrugs at me. I’m getting the distinct impression Petrov doesn’t trust me. He takes us back into his study, but this time, he sits behind his big desk, and we sit opposite him in the overstuffed tan leather armchairs.
“From the beginning,” states Alec.
I clear my throat. “We went to the wife’s address, a guy answered the door—”
“Felder, your Wraith?”
“Yes. He—”
“Did I not give you a photograph of the man?”
Shit.
“Yes, sir, you did, but he was wearing a disguise.”
“You never mentioned it before,” states Jax.
“Well, how else did I not know it was him?” I ask
, defensively. “Do you think I did this to myself? And how the fuck did I transport my unconscious body to the alley you found me in?”
“All we’re saying is it seems a little odd.”
With anger and fear fueling my system, I ask aggressively, “How so?”
“Why let you live? It would have been easier to kill you.” Alec leans forward in his chair, his eyes locked with mine.
“I don’t know. Maybe he wanted me to go back and report what happened. Maybe he’s sending a message, or maybe the fucker is another psycho doing this for fun,” I reply scathingly.
Alec holds up both hands. “Be calm, Hook. I’m going to ask you a question.” He pauses as he squints at me. “Did you give him any information?”
I stand and shake my head. “Fuck you.” Turning, I make my way toward the door when Jax clamps a hand on my shoulder.
“He had to ask, Hook. Think it through, don’t be a dick.”
“Don’t be a dick?” I point at Petrov. “We do all this fucker’s dirty work. We find the girls he sells. We get guns for him to sell. We get the drugs for him to sell. And he has the hide to accuse me of being a rat. Fuck that!”
“You’re paid for all your services,” replies Alec loudly and icily.
I take a few lumbering paces toward him. “Yeah, we are, but not nearly as much as we deserve. Because of you and your family, we’ve lost members to this fucker. You threaten us because we haven’t delivered girls. I’m sorry, merchandise, but the truth is we had to get illegals to fill the void. And we all know you and your customers prefer white girls. You think we don’t want to kill this Wraith? This father? You hurt us, and we destroy you. It’s what the Harbingers of Death do. I think you’ve forgotten who you’re in bed with, Petrov,” I reply angrily, spittle flying from my lips.
Surprisingly, he begins to laugh and gestures toward the chairs. “Sit! There’s the men I’ve come to know and trust. Yes, you’re right. We don’t much like the illegals unless they are Russian or white. As for the guns and drugs, you haven’t let us down for that part of our dealings. The girls will need to be replaced. There are so many lost young girls in the cities, all escaping horrible homes or have daddy issues. Most of my buyers treat them well. Most.” He pauses, stands, and goes and pours three whiskeys. “Your club will make up for the downfalls.”
“While you sit here in your nice, clean kingdom. I think the deal needs to be changed. I think with all the losses we’ve suffered recently, we deserve a bigger cut of the pie, say… another fifteen percent.”
Jax looks surprised at my outburst but remains silent. He looks up at Petrov when he hands him a glass.
Petrov stares at me intently for a moment, then also hands me a glass. “Done.”
I throw back the burning liquid and bare my teeth, so I don’t cough. “We’d a been happy with ten.”
Petrov chuckles. “And perhaps I’d have gone higher, but we’ll never know. Now, start over and tell me what you know.”
I recount my telling of the tale between the Wraith and me. Petrov doesn’t interrupt. He lets me finish and then sits there, head bowed, swishing the contents of his glass around.
Finally, Jax speaks up, “Alec, at least we know he’s here. Maybe Ann is close by?”
With a slight shake of his head, he stands, takes in a deep breath, and says, “You’re right, it’s good he’s here. He’ll probably hunt all of us now. But this time, we’re prepared. We know he’s coming. Rest assured, he won’t get to me, but you, Jax, and your men aren’t as well protected. He could simply run over you with a truck while you’re out riding.”
The color drains out of Jax’s face. Obviously, it’s never occurred to him someone might do such a thing.
“Jax is my responsibility. I’ll make sure nothing happens to him.”
“Oh, really? And how are you going to do that with an arm that’s fucked up and a leg you can barely stand to put weight on? I think not. Jax, you need to have someone else watching your back.”
Inwardly, I’m happy. I’ve got Petrov on tape agreeing to all his sordid business dealings, and now, now the fucker’s got me released from babysitting Jax.
I’m home and hosed.
Shannon, here I come.
Jax frowns and nods. “He’s right, Hook. You have to take time off while you heal. I know you’re a tough son of a bitch, but I need someone who can fight. Right now, you’re benched.”
“Who are you going to trust to take care of you?”
Jax nods at me, lips pursed. “Reaper.”
With eyebrows raised, I sit back in my chair. “Reaper?”
“Yeah, he wants the other million Alec promised. He’ll keep me alive.”
It’s true. If there’s one thing the members of the Harbingers of Death MC love, it’s money.
“Good, it’s settled then. Now, go. Find the fucker. And if you can, find my Ann.”
WRAITH
Again, I’ve positioned myself across from the Harbingers of Death bar. Lots of bikers coming in and out. It’s been over a week since I delivered Hook back to them. The man is still walking around with a limp, and his arm’s in a sling. Reaper has taken over guard duty of Jax, which suits me fine. Jax lives out in the suburbs, and he and Reaper seem to have an unlikely truce. It’s evident Reaper doesn’t like Jax—every time the man turns his back, Reaper either rolls his eyes or frowns at the back of the man’s head.
The cell in my pocket is on silent, but I feel it’s vibration, so I stagger to my feet and stumble down the block. I take the first street to my right, then go down an alley turn left, and wait a moment before I take the cell out of my pocket.
I’ve missed a call from the medical facility I have Ann in. I hit redial and wait for them to answer.
“Montreux Clinic.”
“Hello, this is John Smith. My daughter, Ann, is at your clinic. I missed a call from you.”
“Hold, please, Mr. Smith.”
There’s a short pause, then some horrible music pipes down the line followed by a very loud beep as someone answers the phone. “Mr. Smith?”
“Yes?”
“This is Doctor Eriksson. Mr. Smith, we have a problem with Ann.”
Fear crawls up my spine. “What kind of problem?”
The man clears his throat. “It seems Ann has escaped.”
Fear plants itself firmly in my gut, and I lean against the alley wall to support myself. “How?”
“We are unclear. But she can’t leave Switzerland, she doesn’t have a passport.”
“Doctor Eriksson, how did you let this happen?” I ask in a controlled, calm voice, which isn’t how I’m feeling inside.
“As I said, we don’t know how she escaped only that she has.”
“When?” I demand to know.
“Late last night.”
“How many hours ago?”
I hear him suck in a breath. “About twelve.”
“And you’re only telling me now?”
“We had hoped to find her.”
I end the call and hurry to where I have my car parked. Hidden in the wheel well in the trunk is another cell. I call the only number I have saved on it. It is answered almost immediately.
“Well, hello, Jamison. I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”
“Do you have Ann?”
“What? Your daughter? Why would I have your daughter?”
“Angelica, I swear if you’re trying to leverage my daughter to get what you want, you’ve made the wrong fucking call.”
“Well, well, well… you do have a heart after all. No, Jamison, I don’t have Ann. But I do have operatives in the area and can call on them to investigate. Would you like me to do that?”
“Swear it. Swear to me you don’t have her? Because if you do, I’ll put you on my list, Angelica, and trust me, you don’t want to be on it.”
Angelica Strauss’ laughter filters down the line. “Oh, I love it when you threaten me. But I swear it, I don’t have her, but we’ll find her.”
>
“See that you do. I’m on my way.”
“No, no, no. We need you to carry out your mission, and when it’s done, you can go wherever you wish. I’ll find your daughter. I’ll keep her safe. You do what you were trained to do and take out the threat.”
My whole being wants to get on a plane, but I know Angelica wants Petrov dead, so she’ll do all she needs to do to secure Ann. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I let out a frustrated growl.
“You’ll find her and keep her safe.” It’s not a question but a statement.
“Of course.”
“Fine. But I’m only giving you forty-eight hours, then I’m going back to Switzerland.”
“I’m sure we’ll have her long before then.”
I end the call.
This means I need to speed up my killing deadline, which means I don’t get to have fun with them, but they will be dead. I get in the car and head for Hook’s home. I’ve already broken into it a few times without him knowing. He’s the closest thing I have to an informant, so hopefully, he’ll know where all the players are going to be, so I can end this once and for all.
HOOK
I live on the third floor of a shitty apartment building. The only good thing about being associated with an MC is the locals don’t try to steal my shit. They give me a wide berth and let me conduct business without interfering. I’m so fucking pleased I got Alec Petrov on tape. The fucker burned himself and the Harbingers of Death MC. I can finally go home. The last flight of steps takes me longer as I haul myself up the banister, my shoulder and leg throbbing with exertion. The door to my one-bedroom fleabag apartment was once painted white, like the rest of the ones on this level, but it’s peeling, and the number for the apartment is missing.
I unlock the door and step inside. There’s not much to it—kitchen, living, bedroom, and a small bathroom off the bedroom. I keep it clean, but the carpet in this place is disgusting—it may have once been cream, but now it’s a lovely shade of brown. I never walk around without shoes or socks on, fuck knows what’s in the carpet.
Wraith Page 10
