Brotherhood Protectors: RAINHORSE (Kindle Worlds)

by Jesse Jacobson

  “Think about it, Apollo,” Rainhorse urged. “All those men of yours I have killed, all the trouble I have caused you. You can have me.”

  There was another pause. He could almost hear the wheels turning in Apollo’s head. Rainhorse continued, “Once the girls have reached the end of the parking lot, I will emerge with Rose,” Rainhorse said. “You will be able to see me and her.”

  “Dammit,” Apollo exclaimed. “This doesn’t smell right.”

  “Tell him Rattling Thunder,” Rainhorse said.

  Rattling Thunder put the phone on mute.

  “The Cheyenne will not break his oath,” he said to Apollo. “He did not hurt the twins. He has not hurt Rose. I believe him. I must have my daughter back, unharmed, and I want him as badly as you do.”

  Apollo sighed and scratched his head, “I don’t know. This man is so fucking dangerous. He’s cooking up something. I can smell it.”

  “You know you want the Cheyenne,” HRT added. “We will lose one month of activity. We can absorb it. You know this. With the Cheyenne off our backs, things will go back to like they were before.”

  “Ok, dammit,” Apollo barked, “but I’m holding you accountable, HRT.”

  Hank Rattling Thunder nodded and unmuted the phone, “Ok, Cheyenne, we promise we will never bother Neha and Lona again.”

  “Swear on the spirits of your ancestors,” Rainhorse demanded.

  “I so swear,” Rattling Thunder replied. “I am sending the women to the farmer’s market . . . now.”

  “As soon as I see them, I am on my way,” Rainhorse promised.

  HRT nodded to Takoda, who in turn nodded to his men.

  The girls, including Lona and Ska, all began walking, slowly at first, forward toward the market. They looked scared to death. When they reached the edge of the parking lot, Rainhorse appeared. There was a cinch attached to his left wrist and one to the right wrist of Rose, securing the two to each other. Rainhorse did not want Rose trying to break free and making a run for it. He didn’t believe HRT would risk taking a shot at him with Rose so close to him.

  He waved at HRT. He and Apollo both saw him, now walking toward them. Apollo held his hand up. None of his men made a move. He looked back toward the girls. They had nearly made their way to the market. He saw Lona making eye contact with Neha, who was waiting at the market. Lona began to cry and ran toward her mother. They embraced. She then saw Neha do exactly what he asked her to do, which was to save the reunion celebration and sweep Lona away into the crowd. Lindsay met Ska and did the same thing. Ellie Limberhand and three other women she trusted met the other girls and shuttled them away quickly.

  Rainhorse continued to move forward toward Apollo and Hank Rattling Thunder. Whatever was going to happen would happen. He had done most of what he came to do. The rest was inevitable, whether he lived to see it or not.

  He counted ten guns trained on him, aimed from HRT’s men, as he approached. No one said a thing—they just watched him and Rose get closer and closer.

  When he and Rose were fifteen feet away, Rainhorse stopped. He stooped and gently placed his gun on the rough blacktop of the parking lot and pulled a knife from his pocket. He cut the tether that bonded his and Rose’s wrists. She bolted toward her father and fell into his arms. Hank Rattling Thunder was in tears.

  Rainhorse tossed the knife to the ground and raised his hands in surrender.

  Apollo began to laugh and walked toward him, “Well, well, you actually did it, Cheyenne,” said Apollo. “I had my doubts, I have to admit. I really wondered.”

  “A deal is a deal,” Rainhorse said. “I am here, unarmed as I promised. The girls are being reunited with their families as we speak. I am prepared for whatever fate awaits me.”

  “Oh, you have no idea what awaits you, Cheyenne,” Apollo said, walking toward Rainhorse. “I am going to cause you pain in more ways than you can imagine for all the trouble you caused me.”

  Rainhorse shrugged, “If that is the price that must be paid.”

  “Oh, it is,” Apollo answered, a wide, evil grin spreading across his face, “and there’s more.”

  “More?” Rainhorse repeated.

  “I have all the exits leading out of town blocked, Chief,” Apollo snapped, turning red with rage, his face coming to within an inch of Rainhorse’s.

  “What?” Rainhorse responded. “You mean . . .”

  “I’m getting them all back . . . today!” he screamed, pointing his finger in Rainhorse’s face. “Lona will be back in my hands within the hour. I don’t give a damn about that meth whore, Ska. I never did. Lona is worth more than the rest combined. I want Lona, and I will have her, and the others, too.”

  Rainhorse saw HRT helping Rose get into the truck. HRT gave her a peck on the cheek, closed the door and moved back toward where he and Apollo were standing.

  “You are not keeping your word to me?” Rainhorse said.

  “I said I’d let them go,” Apollo replied, smugly. “I did.”

  “We said nothing about not getting them back,” HRT said, joining the conversation. He started chuckling.

  “You thought you were so damn smart,” Apollo whispered loudly. “I was not about to allow you to rob me of my payday. I own this fucking reservation.”

  HRT looked at Rainhorse. He studied the expressionless look on the former Ranger’s face. He looked around him, then back at Apollo.

  “Something is wrong,” Rattling Thunder whispered.

  “What’s wrong?” Apollo asked.

  “The Cheyenne doesn’t seem all that upset at the news we are recovering the girls,” he replied. He looked at Rainhorse, “What are you up to?”

  Rainhorse shrugged, “Nothing. I am here, unarmed, as I promised.”

  Apollo looked at Rainhorse, studying the Cheyenne’s stone-faced expression and cool demeanor.

  “You’re right,” Apollo said to HRT. “Something is wrong.” He noticed a tiny bit of metal peeking out of the Cheyenne’s shirt pocket. He grabbed it. It was his burner cell phone, an older flip model.

  “What’s this?” he asked Rainhorse, pulling the phone from his pocket. “Is this on? Who is listening to us?”

  Rainhorse looked to the sky. Apollo looked up as well—so did HRT.

  “What the hell are we looking at?” Apollo snarled.

  “Not looking . . . listening. Wait for it,” Rainhorse whispered. A tiny smile formed on his face.

  “Wait for what?”

  Apollo looked at Rainhorse and shook his head, smiling, exposing all of his capped teeth. He began to chuckle.

  “What are you laughing at?” HRT asked.

  “Us,” Apollo replied. “I’m laughing at us.”

  “Why?” HRT asked.

  “Because we’re fucked, that’s why,” he whispered harshly.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  ______________________

  The doors of the produce truck trailers opened and heavily-armed men wearing bullet-proof vests and helmets began to pour out of them. More than two dozen FBI agents swarmed the area, all screaming for everyone to get down on the ground.

  The men holding the girls were clearly taken by surprise. The display of force by the FBI was overwhelming. Many of Apollo’s men dropped their weapons and raised their hands. Some of them took off running.

  Apollo simply raised his hands in the air, still holding his pistol. His men, clearly taken off guard, all followed suit, dropping their weapons and raising their hands. Agents circled them quickly, guns aimed.

  “What the fu . . .” HRT began.

  “FBI!” screamed one of the agents, as men continued to swarm toward Apollo, HRT and his men, like a nest of swirling angry hornets. “Drop your weapons or we will open fire.”

  “At least I’ll get you, you son-of-a-bitch,” Apollo hissed at Rainhorse. He lowered his pistol and aimed it at the big Cheyenne’s head. Rainhorse grabbed Apollo’s gun wrist and twisted it upward. Apollo’s gun fired into the air twice.

  “Shots fired!
” an FBI agent called out. Six armed agents took aim at Apollo.

  “Don’t shoot,” commanded the leader. “He’s too close to our man.”

  Rainhorse twisted Apollo’s wrist again, harder. He yelped loudly and dropped the gun. The former Ranger heard the sound of bone crunching as he twisted Apollo’s arm behind his back. He wasn’t certain if Apollo’s wrist or elbow were broken—perhaps it was both.

  Apollo howled in pain and fell to his knees and then slumped to the ground, holding his broken arm. “Ahhhh, son-of-a-bitch, that hurts like hell!” he screamed.

  “On your knees, Rattling Thunder!” an agent screamed. “Down on the ground,” yelled another. HRT fell to his knees.

  Four of the FBI Agents headed straight toward Apollo and HRT.

  “Tony Apollo and Henry Rattling Thunder, I am Special Agent in Charge Jim Andrews. This is Special Agent Johnson. You are both under arrest.”

  HRT flashed an angry look at Apollo, “The FBI? You said we’d be warned if the FBI was tipped off. You lied.”

  “I didn’t,” Apollo said.

  “That’s right, he didn’t lie,” Agent Andrews said. “Yesterday, we received an anonymous tip that someone inside our organization was feeding you information, Mr. Apollo. You will be sad to hear that we have taken FBI Agent Chris Petersen into custody, pending an investigation into accepting payment from you in exchange for confidential information, including our movements and activities. Mr. Rattling Thunder, you should also know we have Tribal Police Deputy Roland Lone Wolf in custody, pending the same investigation. Given the fact that neither of you seemed to have any idea we’d be here today, it’s probably safe to assume we have the right men.”

  “You’re going to want to get Apollo to the hospital,” Rainhorse said.

  Johnson looked at Apollo’s arm, twisting his head sideways and grimacing.

  “Break his arm, did you?” Agent Johnson asked.

  “In one place at least,” Rainhorse replied, “probably two.”

  “That looks gnarly. Well, it couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.”

  Apollo looked up at Johnson and sneered.

  “We have medics standing by,” Johnson continued.

  Two more agents came forward and swept Apollo and HRT away.

  “I guess it’s showtime,” Agent Johnson said. “I’m going to follow them and read them their rights.”

  Andrews nodded. Johnson walked away.

  “I take it Vern Gill was able to reach you with my instructions?” Rainhorse noted.

  “He reached me fine,” Andrews replied. “The instructions were quite detailed—thank you. You were cutting it thin, my friend. We almost didn’t have time to get setup.”

  “I wanted you to scramble,” Rainhorse said. “I figured it would give you less time to disrupt my plans.”

  “I tried to make Vern Gill crack and spill all the beans early,” Andrews said. “He wouldn’t do it.”

  “Thank him for me,” Rainhorse said. “This is the second time someone from the Brotherhood Protectors bailed me out at the end.”

  “Thank you for all you’ve done,” Andrews said to Rainhorse.

  “I came here wanting to get Lona safely back to her mother and to free this reservation of Tony Apollo and Hank Rattling Thunder,” Rainhorse said.

  “And you not only brought them down, you brought down their entire organization in the process,” Andrews added. “Good work.”

  Rainhorse nodded solemnly.

  “So, tell me, was it worth your freedom?” Andrews asked.

  “I did what I had to do,” he replied.

  Andrews smiled and nodded, “I figured. That was gutsy, having Vern Gill call me knowing that today you’d either be dead or facing prison,” he said. “It took real courage. I admire that. The instructions were quite detailed. Well done.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I will make certain the judge knows what you have done here today,” Andrews said. “Because of you, we have busted the biggest drug and sex trade ring in the mid-west. We have the masterminds in custody, and my men are gathering up the rest of Apollo’s men waiting for you on the outskirts of town. That will go a long way at your sentencing.”

  “Well, I have one more thing for you,” he said, reaching into his back pocket. He pulled the journal he had taken from Rose Rattling Thunder’s purse. He handed it to Andrews.

  “What is this?” Andrews asked.

  “It’s a secret journal maintained by Rose Rattling Thunder,” he replied. “In it you will find the names of all the Indian girls and boys who were abducted from the res by Apollo and HRT. The information goes back to the beginning. And as a bonus, you will also find information on every customer who paid Tony Apollo for one of these girls or young boys. It gives names and dates.”

  Andrews whistled loudly, thumbing through the book, “Hoooo-leee shit! Would you look at this? I recognize a lot of these names. The ones I know are really bad men—the worse kind.”

  “I hope it will help.”

  “You bet it will,” Andrews said. “This is amazing. This is the mother-load. We’ll be able to use it to trace the whereabouts of the children and women who have been sold. We’ll find them and return them to their families, I promise. A lot of very bad people are going to go to jail, Rainhorse. This entire reservation owes you a huge debt. The FBI thanks you as well.”

  “Just make sure Apollo and HRT can never terrorize this reservation again and that will be thanks enough.”

  “You can count on it, Rainhorse,” Andrews said. “I promise.”

  “What will become of Rose?” Rainhorse asked.

  Andrews shrugged, “We don’t have much on her. It appears she didn’t have an active role in the drug or sex trade businesses.”

  “She runs HRT’s illegal gambling trade,” Rainhorse said.

  “That’s a local matter,” Andrews said. “As far as the FBI is concerned, she may end up walking.”

  Rainhorse nodded, “That is too bad.”

  Andrews let out a breath and looked around him, before turning back to the former Ranger. He held up the journal again.

  “You know, you could have very easily parlayed this journal into even more time off your sentence.”

  “I know,” he said.

  “Why give this up for nothing?” Andrews wondered.

  “Because there are children’s lives at stake,” he said. “The men responsible for all this horror need to be brought to justice. They are the ones who buy women and children. They need to be caught and punished. It all has to end. And it needs to be done now, not after some long negotiation to get my sentence reduced.”

  “Very admirable. Still, I feel badly for you,” Andrews said. “I don’t think you really considered how serious your situation is . . .”

  “I do know. What do you think I’m looking at . . . time wise?” Rainhorse interrupted.

  Andrews scratched his head, “If we had just caught you outright, you’d probably be on death row, or at the least, sentenced to life without parole. With all the work you’ve done today . . . I don’t know. If you admit to assassinating even half the scumbags we think you killed, I’m guessing you’ll get fifteen to twenty years even after today’s efforts have been considered. With good behavior, maybe you’ll be out in ten to twelve.”

  Rainhorse nodded, expressionless.

  “You know, right after Lindsay Vanderbilt was recovered from the kidnapping attempt, I studied your dossier,” Andrews said. “There wasn’t a single target of yours that wasn’t a low-life murderer, drug dealer, illegal gun runner or sex trader.”

  “Your point?” Rainhorse asked.

  “My point is that you killed no one who would not have received the death penalty or life without parole if we had caught them ourselves.”

  “I doubt the court will see it your way,” the Cheyenne replied.

  “You’re right. I just wanted you to know, if it was up to me alone, I’d shake your hand for a job well done and let you go right no
w.”

  “It is not up to you, though, is it?” Rainhorse asked.

  Andrews shook his head, “I’m sorry to say, it isn’t. You don’t seem all that concerned about it, though.”

  “It no longer matters. I did what I came to do.”

  “Well, you’re a much different man than I thought you’d be. I’ll give you that. Is there anything else?”

  “Lindsay,” Rainhorse said. “We talked briefly about her role in the shooting at the diner . . .”

  Andrews nodded, “Don’t worry, big guy. As far as we are concerned, you, and you alone, are the one who shot all the bodyguards at the diner. Lindsay never even held a gun. That’s what the evidence will show.”

  The big Cheyenne nodded, “Thank you.”

  “You know, you never actually told me how you got my private cell to have Gill call me in the first place,” Andrews said.

  “You gave your business card to Lindsay two years ago, when you questioned her about me,” he said. “You wrote your private cell number on the back.”

  Andrews raised his eyebrows, “Ah . . . yes, of course. Well, I’m glad you had my private number. If Vern Gill had just called the FBI switchboard, Agent Peterson may have found out what was going on and warned Apollo. If that had happened, today’s little party may have gone very differently.”

  Rainhorse saw Neha, Lona and Lindsay walking toward them. They stopped about thirty feet away. He managed a soft smile and looked back at Andrews.

  “You made one more commitment to me,” he said.

  Andrews looked at Neha, Lona and Lindsay, then back at Rainhorse.

  “Sure, but I’ll have to cuff you,” Andrews said.

  “No cuffs,” Rainhorse said. “I’ll be right here where you can see me. I just need ten minutes to say goodbye.”

  “Cuffing the prisoner is protocol,” he insisted.

  Rainhorse glared at him.

  Andrew’s sighed, “Ok, make it quick. Ten minutes.”

  Andrews backed away.

  Lona Littlebird was the first to approach him. She approached him apprehensively and stole a glance back toward her mother. Neha smiled and nodded at her. Lona turned back toward Rainhorse.