I crane my neck around to look into his face. “You sure about that?”
“Okay guys then. Lots of guys are into the whole…the whole…what I just said.” He replies lamely.
“Really? So you have this fantasy of doing the nasty with some butt ugly she demon who shifts from woman to beast and back again?”
“Actually the woman would have to be a real woman. It’s the guys who shape…never mind.”
“Yeah I think you can forget that one. I’m not into the beauty and the beast stuff. You’re just barely handsome enough as it is.”
“What?” He exclaims. He sits up and is looking at me alarmed.
I smile. “Just kidding. You’re just enough beast for me and you’re hella handsome too now lay back down will ya?”
That’s one thing I love about Adam. He has a great sense of humor and he gets my jokes which can be kinda dry and sarcastic. I enjoy the occasional caustic back and forth we have now and again.
“You think maybe we should erase that?” He says, pointing to our demon friend.
“Really?” I laugh aloud. “I thought you’d enjoy not being the homeliest person in the room for a change.”
“Why do you think I keep you around?” He asks, giving me a wicked smile.
“Well obviously not for a booty call ‘cause you just lost that privilege.”
He starts to say something then stops with his mouth hanging open. I pat his head affectionately.
“It’s okay Hon, don’t even try. I’m way too fast for ya.”
He shakes his head. “Coffee?”
“Now you’re talking.”
“Great, you know where the machine is. I like mine with cream and two sugars.”
“Oh my god, you little ass. Fine I’ll get your coffee but you’re gonna pay.”
He snaps his fingers. “Come on, chop chop. You’re not getting any younger.”
Ten minutes later I hand him a steaming cup of coffee, cream and two…well two of something.
He sighs, sits back and takes a long drink and almost immediately spits it back out all over the bedspread.
“What the hell? You used salt!”
“Damn,” I swear, faking confusion. “I thought those packages were a little too small to be sugar.”
He watches me take a drink of mine, fully expecting the same reaction. I of course put sugar in mine.
“You bitch,” he breathes. “Of course you put sugar in yours.”
I laugh. “Here honey.”
I give him my cup; take his out of his hands and go to make a cup for myself. Gotta keep him on his toes or he’ll get lazy and take me for granted. A minute later I climb back in bed with my own coffee.
“So what’s the plan Sherlock?”
“Well…we can’t go after Marco or anyone else who was at that club last night; they’ll be on their guard.”
“So…who can we target then? Did you recognize anyone else last night?”
“Unfortunately no.”
“So how are we going to know who to target?”
“Through a process of elimination we can probably come up with a couple names.”
“How?” I ask.
“Well, that was on a Thursday night and I know for a fact that a couple guys work the graveyard shift at their work so they wouldn’t have been there. I just have to make sure they showed up for work last night and then we target them. They’ll probably be thinking they’re not on our list.”
“Are they on our list? I mean, it’s one thing to go after the guys who kidnapped my little sister, but to go after guys who weren’t even involved, that’s… I’m a healer not a…”
I can’t finish the thought. This is all becoming more than I bargained for and I can see why my sister was so adamant about me not going after her kidnappers. It’s changing me. I couldn’t see it before, but it’s staring me in the face now. Last night I was shooting at people who probably were just defending themselves and their property. So what’s that make me? I can’t go there, not now, and maybe not ever.
“Hey…where’d you go?” Adam asks. “You suddenly left me and just took off.”
“Yeah…just thinking, that’s all.”
“Well that much is obvious. What I’m interested in is what you were thinking when you completely checked out.”
“I’m sorry Adam. I just can’t talk about it right now.”
“I knew it. It’s getting to you isn’t it? This hunting down the bikers is making you feel like a criminal isn’t it?”
“Not really,” I lied. I can’t let him know what’s really going on or he’d refuse to let me help; and rightfully so. “Really, I’m okay.” I lie again.
“Alright, but if you’re not okay with this and you’re forcing yourself to do something that you’re not fine with you’re going to pay a heavy price later down the road. Do you understand what I’m talking about?”
“I do.” Unfortunately I do. I’m just not sure what I’m going to do about it yet.
“You’ll have to trust me on this when I say; all the officers of both clubs were involved in your sister’s capture. Something that big that can affect the whole club doesn’t get done without a unanimous vote from the clubs officers. We’re just going after those involved in your sister’s capture, that’s all Kari.”
“Okay…I’m satisfied. So who we going to go after now?”
“Well while you’ve been going through your inner moral battle with yourself I have managed to come up with a couple candidates. There’s a guy named Chris Miller, goes by the club name of The Hound. He would have been working last night. He’s a sadistic mother fucker and deserves to be put down. He’s also the former Cycle Demons Sargent at Arms.”
“That’s great. Where can we find him?”
“I’ve got a brother, Andrew who is out looking and he’ll check in when he finds him. In the mean time I need to go to the shop and put in some time. Unlike you I do have to still earn a living. I’ll try to be back before too late but don’t expect me for diner or anything. You should be safe here. We paid cash and neither of us have ever been here so it’s not like anyone will come looking here.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“Yes…provided you stay put. You go out and someone eventually is going to spot you, tail you and take you when you’re alone. I made sure no one tailed us here so don’t blow it by going and getting yourself spotted.”
“Hey, I’m not a moron here. I’ll stay put.”
Ten minutes later he’s out the door. With nothing else to do I decide to see what’s on TV. Turns out, there’s only so much day time TV I can handle and when the coffee runs dry I begin to peek out the window. By six o’clock I’m pacing the room. I’ve never been one to just stay sitting around doing nothing. I don’t know how much more of this I can handle.
A motely pair of bikers sits in a dark corner of Vinnie’s bar drinking whiskey and plotting revenge.
“So,” begins Ripper, the president of the newly reformed Sons of Ash. “How bad do you want to be a part of the inner circle?”
“I’ll do anything!” Blade claims.
He was the treasurer of the defunct Cycle Demons before the two clubs merged into one stronger Sons of Ash MC. No longer an officer and part of the inner circle of a motorcycle club he is dying to get back in.
“That’s just what I want to hear,” Ripper replies. “You no doubt are aware of my efforts to find that bitch girlfriend of Adams right?”
“I’m aware.”
“Well my guys found her last night. She’s holed up in a flea bag motel and may not be there long. I need you to take two other guys you trust and bring her back to me. She’s no good to me dead so if you bring back a corpse you’ll end up one as well; understood?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Good.”
Ripper hands Blade a folded up piece of paper. Blade takes it and pockets it.
“You’ll find the name of the motel,” Ripper says, “as well as the address and the
girl’s room number. Figure out how you’re going to make your approach and be ready to take her tonight while butt fucker Adam is at work. Now get to it!”
Blade stands up, drops a pair of twenties on the table and saunters off. Come this time tomorrow he’ll be in the inner circle of his club and that’s exactly where he wants
Under the cover of darkness the three former Cycle Demons, Corky, Screw, and Blade, meet to finalize plans.
“You sure she’s in there?” Blade asks.
“Positive,” Corky replies. “We just went by and the TV is back on. The drapes are pulled but you can still see it.”
“And you’re positive he’s not with her?”
Both Corky and Screw shake their heads. “She’s alone,” they reply in unison.
“Alright, but remember,” Blade replies. “This is not an execution, it’s a snatch and grab. Once we’re in the room it’ll be mine and Screw’s responsibility to grab the woman while Corky provides security. It’s up to you Cork to make damn sure we get in and out unnoticed and safely. You gotta have our fuckin’ backs, you got it?”
“Got it boss!” Corky replies.
“How do we know her boyfriend isn’t going to just show up?” Screw asks.
Blade glances at his watch. “Because right about now he’s experiencing a flat tire.”
“Just one?” Screw asks. “He can easily change the tire. They should have done two or more tires.”
“You’re not thinking straight Screw,” Blade replies. “If my guy did more than one tire that fucker would know it’s a set up and he’d just call her to warn her and someone else to go and bail her out. Because it’s only one tire he’ll just call her to tell her he’ll be twenty minutes late and no one will have a clue to what’s going on.”
“Got it.” Screw replies.
“Now let’s go over this one more time,” Blade begins. “Corky, since you’re young and pretty decent looking you’re going to go to the door with a story about a block of rooms tested positive for bedbugs and everybody needs to move to another section of the motel. She’ll buy the story. People around here are paranoid about them critters and she’ll not think twice. Soon as she opens the door we go in. Corky will stand guard at the door and make sure we get out uncontested and without being seen.”
“Thoughts on how we’re going to take her?” Screw asks, fingering his knife.
“Yeah, she stays alive or you don’t. She dies and you both die. She’ll be armed so that’s why she has to buy our story and we have to move fast before she can get to her gun. We’ll just bum rush her and I’ll administer the sedative. We’ll carry her out and in fifteen minutes we’ll be handing her over to Ripper; questions?”
The other two men shake their heads, so the three men get into the stolen panel van and head for the motel. Corky is driving which frees up Blade to go over the plan. He reaches in his jacket and extracts the syringe and tiny vial. With great care he inserts the needle into the vial and extracts .62ml of Ketamine; enough to make her three sheets to the wind for about four hours. Plenty of time for them to do their work. As they draw near the shabby motel Blade’s hands begin to quiver. Adrenaline begins to shoot through his system. It becomes difficult to just sit there in the car seat waiting for their arrival. His heart is pounding and his breath is beginning to border on ragged.
Corky concentrates on the road. It’s his job to make sure they don’t inadvertently get pulled over by the cops. All three of them have records and Corky himself probably has a warrant. Being past guests of the State of California Corrections, they are forbidden to carry or be in the presence of firearms; like the kind the three of them are now carrying. A quick search will turn up the illegal tranquilizer that Blade carries, as well as cocaine and heroin he nearly always has in his possession. No…it will not do at all to get pulled over tonight. Everything has to go as planned; just not the plans that Blade has in mind. He and Screw have their own plans that do not involve Blade. Screw has a preloaded syringe of his own with enough tranquilizers to knock Blade on his ass for about 12 hours. With him out of the picture he and Screw will charge in, subdue the woman and spend some quality time with her before transporting her to Ripper. Of course somewhere along the way they’ll have to push Blade out on the road before meeting Ripper and taking all the credit for the job. The end game is to claim that Blade showed up too wasted to do the job and they were forced to improvise on the fly and thanks to them the job went off without a hitch; at least that’s the plan.
It’s just past ten when the three men park in the slot belonging to room 113. They have a few minutes to go over plans one last time, and then it’ll be go time. The three outlaw bikers confer quietly amongst themselves. The timing has to be perfect to ensure the woman’s pain in the ass boyfriend isn’t going to come home to thwart the operation. Blade watches his watch with breathless anticipation.
Corky fingers the tiny syringe in his coat pocket. With a glance back at Screw, he positions himself to strike out at Blade.
Totally fed up with reruns of sitcoms that weren’t worth a glance the first time around, Kari slips into a simple mid-thigh length gown. She keeps the TV on for company but turns off the volume and slides into bed beneath a single sheet. Twenty minutes later she’s breathing easy and fast asleep.
Corky glances one more time at his co-conspirator Screw, before slipping the syringe out of his pocket. As Blade focusses on the room in front of their vehicle, Corky checks to make sure the cap is off his preloaded syringe. All he has to do is just jab Blade in the arm or leg and he’ll be out in seconds. Corky raises his hand like he’s going to brush back his long hair from his eyes, then in one quick jabbing motion he strikes downward onto Blades exposed upper arm. A split second before the bare needle can penetrate the well- muscled arm of the other biker; Screw makes a move of his own. He smacks Corky’s hand just enough to dislodge the syringe and it goes flying across the van, striking the window by Blade’s head and falls into his lap.
Corky wheels on Screw. “What the fuck?”
“You just tried to poison Blade!” Screw accuses.
Corky launches himself towards Screw. He knows there’s no way out of this mess. His ‘friend’ has betrayed him and he’s been caught with damning evidence; the syringe. He manages to get one solid punch; a right cross that connects like a sledge hammer into Screws jaw, whipping his head around. Corky draws back his other arm when suddenly he feels a bee like sting on the side of his neck and almost immediately his body begins to go numb. He barely manages to let his left fist fly but by the time it connects with Screw’s nose it packs as much of a punch as a three year old. As the floor of the panel van rushes up to meet him he wonders absently if they’ll do him the courtesy of killing him while he sleeps or if he’s gonna wake up tied to a chair at the hands of one of the clubs interrogators. He desperately hopes the former. No way is Corky prepared to endure an angry interrogator.
Blade studies the syringe that Corky had tried to stick in his arm. “What the hell is this?” He asks Screw.
Screw swallowed and summoned up a little courage. His life will depend on the next 60 seconds and the answers to Blade’s questions. If there is any doubt at all that Screw is not in league with Corky, he is a dead man.
“How’d he get ahold of your syringe?” Screw asks.
“Still got mine,” Blade replies, pulling his out of his pocket. “Corky had this one. You guys have been pretty quiet all night, now that I think about it.”
“I h-had nothing to do with that.” Screw replies, trying to keep his voice from quivering and his hands from shaking.
“Look, you can tell me anything.” Blade replies. ”No one got hurt. No harm no foul right?” Blade flashes Screw a quick smile.
“Yeah,” Screw replies. “We can still pull it off. Now if it was just one person, well that’d be impossible.”
“This ain’t my first snatch and grab you know. Remember that Jewish girl you guys were panting over a few months back? That was
all me.”
“And I don’t doubt you could,” Screw replies. “But since I’m here, it’ll be easier I’m sure.”
“I shouldn’t have drugged him.” Blade begins. “Now I can’t ask him if anyone was helping him…like you.”
“You could ask…but is a condemned man really going to be truthful? Pretty sure he’ll say just about anything to spare his life.”
“You may be right, but we are late as it is. I can’t wait for him to wake up. We either do this right now or we go home and risk facing Ripper with our hands empty.”
Screw looks back at the man he betrayed. ‘If only there were a way to make sure you don’t wake up…’ He says to himself. ‘Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.’
The two remaining Sons of Ash bikers quietly leave the safety of their panel van and approach the door to room 113. They have positioned the van where it can be seen from the woman’s room should she look before opening the door. A magnetic logo on the side declares the van belongs to Cal-West Pest Control, as do the uniforms Blade and Screw are wearing.
Blade raps on the door with a knuckled hand. They wait a minute or two before knocking again; this time a little harder.
“Did you forget your key again?” A sleepy female voice yells.
“Cal-West Pest Control ma’am.”
“Pest control?” She asks.
“Yes ma’am, this whole block of rooms has been tested for a bed bug infestation. You’ll ha-”
“What the hell?” She hollers, interrupting Blades monologue. “You actually let me sleep here and there have been bedbugs?”
Blade is about to reply when he hears the unmistakable sound of the chain on the door being taken off followed by the deadbolt being drawn back.
“Get ready…” Blade mouths to his companion.
Screw nods and tightens his grip on his Katz combat knife; just like the one Blade uses. They both watch the doorknob waiting for it to turn. The instant they see the knob turn, Screw and Blade ram the door with their shoulders causing it to knock the poor woman head over heels backwards. The bikers charge into the room and Blade goes after the stunned woman while Screw shuts the door behind them. Despite being taken out of a deep sleep and sent flying through the air she recovers surprisingly fast.
Burn to Ashes Page 3
