Leave a Trail
Page 30
“They’ve never put us in a room together before. Something’s up. Something’s wrong.” Isaac kicked the table. “Fuck! If he’s got—”
“Isaac!” Show cut him off. “Take a beat, boss. Watch your words.”
Isaac nodded, blanching a little, and they all stayed quiet. Badger had more questions than he could put in any kind of order, so he kept his mouth quiet and decided to go along for whatever ride was ahead. He’d follow his brothers’ lead. He was scared, but he’d known much greater fear than this. Nothing that would happen in the Sheriff’s office could even approach horrors he’d survived.
They stood silently in that room for what seemed like hours, and then the door opened. Sheriff Leon Seaver, crew cut and sharply pressed uniform, walked in. He smiled.
“Hello, boys. Have a seat.”
Still they stood.
“Suit yourself. You know, it’s been a hell of a time getting you together. Seems like an age now we’ve been looking for you four to be on the road together. I can tell you I was getting damn tired of waiting.”
Badger watched Isaac. He could see his jaw twitching, the tendons in his neck rising into ropes under his skin.
But the Horde stayed silent.
“Still not much of a conversationalist. Not a problem. It had to be you four, and now it is. Good. There’s somebody I want you to meet.” He went out the door.
A couple of minutes later, the door opened, and another man came in. Latino, with salt and pepper hair and a scruffy beard. He wore jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and a brown leather jacket. Badger had no idea who he was.
His brothers, however, did. All three reacted strongly and audibly. Isaac, his hands still cuffed behind his back, shouted something like a warrior’s cry and charged. The guy deflected his armless attack, but Isaac was much larger, and they both went down. And then there were three uniformed goons in the room. Two dragged a still-fighting, shouting Isaac off, and one held the other three Horde back with his baton, cracking Len hard to get him to back off from trying to help their President. The two on Isaac kicked him until the stranger stood and said, “Enough! Get out. We’re good.”
Isaac was still on the floor when they were alone with the man who’d made him so crazy and had Len and Show visibly shaking with rage. The man squatted near Isaac. “I’m going to uncuff you all, as soon as you tell me you’ll be calm and listen. We need to talk. I think we can make a deal.” His words had the inflected cadence of a bilingual speaker.
Isaac just shouted incoherently.
“You’re law?” Len’s voice quavered. Badger had never heard anything like that—a tremble in Len’s throat. “You’re law?”
The man looked up and nodded. “Special Agent David Vega.”
“You killed our brother,” Isaac growled from the floor. “You pulled his guts out and dropped them on the fucking floor.”
For a few seconds, Badger was sure he was going to be sick. He hadn’t known. He’d stood in this room confused about his brothers’ reaction to this man. This man had killed Havoc. While the others watched. He himself had been there, but he’d been unconscious. He hadn’t known. He hated that he hadn’t known. He fought down his gorge and found strength now.
“I’m sorry for that. I had no choice. I’m in deep.” Vega held out his hand to Isaac. “Will you listen?”
From the floor, Isaac turned to his brothers. Then he turned back to the man who’d killed Havoc. “We’ll listen. You can uncuff us. But don’t you fucking touch us.”
Vega nodded and, moving slowly, his eyes on Isaac, uncuffed him. Isaac spit blood and came to his feet, clearly hurt but mobile.
After Vega uncuffed the others, he turned to Isaac. “Will you sit, Isaac?”
“No.”
“Isaac.” That name was the first thing Show had said since Vega had entered the room. Isaac glared at his best friend and then yanked a chair from under the table and sat. Vega sat across from him. Show, Len, and Badger took seats on the bench behind their President.
“I know you don’t want to be in the same room with me, so I’m going to be quick, say my piece. This room is clean. You are not being watched or recorded. Neither am I.”
“We’re supposed to trust you on that? Fuck you.”
Vega regarded Isaac for a second and then continued. “I am going to speak plainly and offer you some truths that might make you trust me a little. I am the man who interrogated Ed Mills, your contact in Joliet. I am the man who led the cleanup of Martin Halyard’s murder scene. I have you all dead to rights on conspiracy to commit. And I have Mr. Wahlberg there on murder one. There’s more. I can put you away for the rest of your lives. Your entire club. I don’t need our conversation today to make that happen.”
“Then do it.”
Vega shook his head. “Not my goal. I’ve been deep under with the Perros for almost eight years. I’ve been Santaveria’s right hand for five of those. He is my goal. I think you and I have the same goal. I can help you achieve it. But I need something in return.
“You want me to do your dirty work, and you expect something in return?”
“My official goal is the end of the Perro Blanco cartel. That’s what I’m working toward. But I have seen a great deal about the way Julio works. He has hurt others even more than he has hurt you. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t rain horror on someone. He takes strength from it. He believes it gives him power. So I am willing to help you end him. I have wide latitude from my office to achieve my official goal, and Julio’s death is a long stride toward that. The time is coming in which we have to act. He is stirring up far too much strife in the States lately. He truly believes that his power is infinite, and it is making him reckless, especially where you’re concerned. A man like that cannot be allowed to be reckless. The damage he does is extreme. So it’s time for us to act, but he will slip past us. I know he will.”
“I hear a lot of chatter. Nothing to make me give a shit about your problems.”
“Julio does not know about your latest scheme. He thinks you are still on your knees. But I know you are planning to fight.”
Isaac shifted, and Badger knew he was trying to control his reaction—and that he was short on control today. Badger’s heart sped up even faster. He was starting to feel lightheaded. That intel was still fairly fresh. How could Vega know that?
“What are you talking about?”
“The Perros don’t know. We caught it first. But one of the Scorpions in LA talked business on the wrong phone. We picked it up.”
“Jesus. Who?”
“Not your man. Not Bart. He’s good—he’s got us locked out of the club good and tight. Somebody else had the miss. You’re all way out of your depth, making mistakes that show it. But that’s beside the point. With the Florida Scorpions gutted”—Everybody in the room, Vega included, twitched at his word choice. He cleared his throat and went on—“and the LA charter seceding, the whole pipeline is in chaos. All the pipelines. Julio is putting a lot of his men in the States to fill the gaps, and that spreads him too thin, makes him weaker. The weed pipeline is the most important and the least stable now. Weed’s not all you’ve been running, by the way. I know you checked the truck at your pickup. But if you had gotten into the truck and dug back, you’d have seen a false wall. You’ve run shipments of human cargo three times.”
“Christ.” Show muttered it, but Vega heard him and looked over Isaac’s shoulder.
“Indeed, Showdown. May I call you Showdown?”
Show shrugged but didn’t answer otherwise.
Isaac’s voice was tight when he said, “Cut to the chase, Vega.”
“Yes. Here’s the deal I can offer you. I am at Santaveria’s right hand. I can get him to meet with you. You proceed with your plan to fight back—I don’t have the details yet, but I know how you think, Isaac. My guess is that you are planning a battle of some kind at the Bulls’ pickup point in Amarillo. Am I close?”
Badger couldn’t see Isaac’s face, but he knew he wa
s simply glaring. Vega went on. “That’s good. Texas is perfect. I can get Santaveria to meet with you. I can get him back into the States. The Perros have a large packaging and distribution facility there, and he will feel safe enough to come into Texas. I can get him into a room with you. I can outfit that room in any way that you would like. And I can see to it that he is ultimately unguarded—that will take some help from you, because he travels with four guards. But I can give you a good shot at him.”
“You’re a Fed, and you’re telling me that your whole office will arrange to help me kill a man.”
Vega nodded. “I am. There is a price. The four of you go down for Halyard. He had powerful friends on the right side of the law. We need a resolution to that open case.”
Isaac laughed, and Badger could almost taste the bitterness in it from across the room. “The right side of the law. There is no right side of the law.”
Vega leaned forward, his arms crossed on the metal table, as if he had a secret to share with Isaac. “I can get you a decent deal, not too much time. Six-to-twelve. I am telling you that I have you on this charge already. I am offering you the chance to, as is your way, collect on a debt. And I am offering you short time for a premeditated murder you committed—a federal court conviction on that charge would get you mandatory life, no parole. You are the winners here.”
“If you have the case, then why don’t you fucking charge us straight up?”
“Because you can be useful. Santaveria needs to be neutralized. Other attempts have failed. He has been a very cautious man. But he’s developed an obsession with you. I swear, it’s like a crush. You make him reckless, and the consequences are beginning to spread. I can use that.”
“I am so motherfuckin’ tired of being useful. Somebody’s always got their hand up my ass, tryin’ to make me dance. I have had it. God DAMMIT.” Isaac slammed his fists on the table.
Vega didn’t flinch. “Isaac, I am offering you a chance to kill Julio Santaveria and live to tell the tale. You know it’s a one-way trip if you go for him on your own—and that is assuming you could even get to him. This way, you will get back to your family some day.”
After three deep, slow, audible breaths, Isaac said, “Here’s the only deal for my men. They go free. Immunity. You leave them the fuck alone. They have hurt over the Perros all they will. You can have me. I’ll go down for Halyard. You want me to be useful, that’s the deal. Me.”
The other Horde jumped up, reacting all at once.
Show roared, “Dammit, Isaac!”
Len yelled, “Fuck that!”
Badger shouted, “Boss, no!”
Isaac didn’t even turn around. “That’s the deal, Vega. Me.”
Show stepped forward and put his hand on Isaac’s shoulder. “No, Isaac. Think about this.”
Isaac shrugged him off. “Take me or leave me, Special Agent.”
Vega stared at him for a long time. Then he held his hand out. “Deal.”
Isaac looked at that hand. Instead of shaking it, he said, “One thing. Are you the Fed exchanging coded messages in nasty jokes with our fine Sheriff?”
Vega dropped his hand, letting it fall to the table with a thunk. “Huh. That surprises me. Yes. Why?”
“That about us? Haven’t been able to break the naming code.”
“Mostly. The Sheriff is obsessed with you, too. Not sure what your mystique is.”
“Guess I’m just a fascinating guy. You know he’s the one arranged the fire at our little bed and breakfast in town, killed one of our people, hurt a few others—one badly. Badger’s old lady. Burned her.”
Vega’s eyebrows went up. “Proof of that?”
“No. But we know it’s true. I want him off the Horde’s back. Permanently. I want him out of office.”
Vega laughed. “You ask a lot.”
“All that talking you two do, I bet you know something that could get him to resign quietly.”
Leaning back in his chair, Vega crossed his arms over his chest. “Say I do. What do I get for that?”
“Me.” Badger turned his head so quickly at Show’s voice, the room spun a little.
Isaac turned around. He moved stiffly; the beating he’d taken earlier had hurt him. “No, brother. Absolutely not. You have Shannon and the twins. And I need you to take care of my family. And the club. You stay.”
Before Show could say more, Len interrupted him. “It should be me. You can’t go in alone, boss. If it’s known you put down the Perro king, you won’t make it to the first mess line on your own.”
“I’ll be okay. I bet there’ll be as many willing to offer their protection as want me dead.”
“Not on your own, Isaac. Please. If you’re gonna do this, be smart. Let me get your back. That’s my damn job.”
“What about Tasha?”
“She’s got club in her blood. She’ll understand. And we don’t have kids.”
Isaac considered Len, then turned to Badger. “You got any notions of speaking folly, too, you end them now. Keep your trap shut, little brother. We need you on the outside. You’re the future of the club. I’m the past.”
Badger had been too stunned and confused by the developments of this surreal day to have thought to speak up. And now his throat was clenching at Isaac’s words. So he nodded and continued to shut up.
Isaac turned back to Vega. “For Seaver, you get Len, same time or shorter. We’re together, medium security, tops. Close to home.”
“It must be a federal facility.”
“Marion, then. Six-to-twelve bid. No more.”
Vega held out his hand. “Will you shake on it now?”
Isaac stared at that hand, and Vega held it steady. Finally, Isaac shook, his hand dwarfing Vega’s, then yanked away in evident disgust. “You gutted our brother in front of us.”
“It’s on my conscience.”
“I can’t believe we’re letting you walk away from that.”
“Santaveria is your goal, right?”
Isaac nodded, his head rising and falling slowly.
“Okay. It will take a couple of days to process what I need to process to make our handshake official. I assume you have a lawyer on retainer—he should look over the paperwork. The rest of it is off the books.” He handed Isaac a card. “I wrote a secure number. I’ll call from that, or you can call me at it. We will work out the logistics of the rest of this plan. I’ll get your bikes released and your effects, and you’ll be free to go tonight.”
“Len signs nothing until Seaver is gone.”
David Vega nodded, then stood and left the room. Isaac rose and turned to his brothers. The Horde stood in a loose circle, facing each other. No one spoke.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Nearly two o’clock in the morning. No one had heard from Isaac, Show, Len, or Badger for hours. They’d all congregated at the clubhouse—the old ladies, the children, the Prospects, and the Horde who’d stayed in town. They’d even brought the puppies with them.
The men had spent those hours building an arsenal—gathering their weapons, loading everything. Lilli had pulled weapons for the women, too. But Adrienne had never held a gun before. When she’d told Lilli has much, she’d gotten a look from Isaac’s wife that had scared her for a second—fierce and furious—but then Lilli had smiled a little and nodded. She’d said, “You stay well back, then, if trouble hits. When this is over, if Badge doesn’t teach you, I will. You have to shoot, Adrienne. In this life, you have to know how to protect yourself. This is no place for hothouse flowers.”
That had pissed Adrienne off, and she’d almost pushed back. But it wasn’t the time. So instead, she’d replied, “I’m not afraid. I just don’t know how yet.”
“Good woman. Then we’ll teach you.” With that, Lilli had walked away.
Adrienne had not yet been a full part of this family when Havoc had been killed, but the similarities that the women felt between their vigils on that night and this night were vividly obvious. Seeing the way fear stretched
all their faces made Adrienne’s throat twist and knot so hard she wasn’t sure how she could take in breath. The night Lilli, Shannon, Tasha, and Cory were remembering was the night that Badger and his brothers had been torn apart, inside and out. The night that Havoc had died. The first anniversary of that night had passed mere days before. And here they were, clustered together in some kind of macabre reenactment.
In the midst of the adults’ taut worry, the children, too young to understand, were playing contentedly, rolling around with the puppies. The tension had obviously stimulated them, however; as late as it was, Gia, Bo, and Loki were all wide awake, showing no signs of readiness for sleep. The puppies were dropping around them, exhausted, but the kids were still full-steam.
The only child—and he was no longer really a child—who felt the weight of the night was Nolan. He had responded, it seemed, by throwing himself in with the men, gathering weapons, loading them, running what errands they needed. Every time Adrienne saw him, he wore the same expression—empty.
The whole evening and half the night had passed in this way. Adrienne kept herself busy helping Shannon with the twins. They went back to Show’s old room to feed them, so that Shannon could feed Joey without baring her breasts in the Hall. Shannon’s breasts were sort of epic—and they hadn’t become less so while she was breastfeeding. They drew attention. So she sat in a ratty armchair with Joey, and Adrienne got comfortable on the bed with Millie and a bottle.
Usually a devoted nurser, Joey fussed and complained repeatedly, refusing to stay latched.
“Dammit. Dammit!” There were tears right on the edge of Shannon’s voice. Adrienne looked over and saw that there were tears at the edge of her eyes, too.
“Can I do something?”
“My milk isn’t letting down. I can feel it. I’m like an overfilled water balloon, but it won’t release. My nipples are like rocks. He can’t get hold.”
“Do you want me to warm one of Millie’s bottles?”
“No! No! I don’t want him to prefer the bottle, too. I want to do this right with one of them.” Now tears were thickening her words, and Joey began to cry. “God!”