CRASH: The Rogue Sinners MC

by Claire St. Rose

  Part of Leo’s mind was doing the happy dance, because that meant Nomar had put out $18 million in cash for this drop, which he wouldn’t be receiving. Even for Nomar, that was a huge hit, more than Leo could ever have hoped for. Recovery from such a hit would take him years and weaken him enough that other threats might eat him up before he was able to get back on his feet. At this point, Woody and Emma were avenged.

  Now, all he had to do was get out of this alive.

  Just as they were turning off towards the Jacumba Wilderness Area, Nomar’s cellphone rang.

  “Bueno?” he said after tapping the Bluetooth earpiece. He listened for a moment, and then said, “Hold on a moment, please.” Nomar tapped his phone a few times in its holder on the dash and put the phone into speaker mode. “Could you please say that again so that we can all hear it now? English please.”

  The caller said, “Um, si. Jerome and elven of his men went out this morning at about nine to take revenge on Leo, but none have come back and I can’t reach any of them. The only answer I got was a woman on Jerome’s phone who said, ‘I’m sorry, Jerome has been disconnected,’ and asked if I would like to leave a message. I thought you should know.”

  “Who told Jerome that he could do such a thing?” Nomar inquired.

  “He said it was his bloodright,” the caller replied.

  “Imbeciles! That whole fucked up family is stupidio!” Nomar snarled.

  There was silence on the line.

  “If,” Nomar said to the caller, “if Jerome shows his face, you are to take him to the cells and await instructions. Do you understand? He is rogue!”

  “Si, I will do so,” the caller said.

  “Adios!” Nomar growled, and he disconnected.

  After a moment of silence, Leo said in a calm voice, “Jerome and his eleven friends are dead and buried in a common grave somewhere in the middle of a farm field.”

  “Si? But you were not there. Not at home,” Nomar said.

  “No, but I had guests who were. Jerome came watching for a bear trap, but he got the bear instead,” Leo said with a smile, and he leaned back in his seat.

  Nomar’s curiosity was piqued, and he waited for Leo to say more. When Leo remained silent, he finally asked, “How many guests?”

  “Two,” Leo said, holding up two fingers.

  “Only dos?”

  “Yes, only two. Women. They work as a team,” Leo said, laughing inside. It had to be Yvette who had said that Jerome was “disconnected.” It fit her kind of humor. And if she was in the mood to be funny, then Bev was obviously still alive and unharmed.

  “These women are that good?” Nomar pressed.

  “Better,” Leo agreed with a nod.

  “Maybe I should hire them. It seems that my men are lacking real skill.”

  “I’ll ask, but after being attacked by your men, they may not be so eager to talk with you,” Leo said.

  “They do not know they were my men,” Nomar pointed out.

  “Maybe. They will have taken IDs and used resources to find out who they were. If enough signs point to you, they will assume,” Leo explained.

  “That would be unfortunate. Will they seek revenge, do you think?” Nomar asked.

  “No,” Leo said casually. “They will know it was me that they were after. They had only just arrived, so it would not be them. The worst they will do is to try to convince me to leave your service.”

  “Can you be convinced?” Nomar asked.

  “Well,” Leo chuckled, “Counter-terrorism is not the only thing they are good at, and as I said, they work as a team.”

  The two lieutenants in back got the joke before Nomar did, but soon they were all laughing.

  Nomar told him, “Sounds like I need to give you a raise, and soon.”

  “That would put more weight on your side of the argument, yes,” Leo agreed. “But to be fair, I’ll have to enjoy their point of view as well. Just to be fair, of course.”

  “Well, of course,” Nomar said with a smile. “And let me know the damages to your house. I’ll take care of that for you. It is my fault. My men,” Nomar said more seriously.

  “Thank you, I will do that,” Leo agreed graciously.

  They arrived at Airstrip 8 to find the trucks and two more Hummers waiting. Men were already standing in a group near the middle of the mesa. Leo got out of the Hummer and adjusted his guns, then walked over to meet Nomar at the front of the vehicle. He took off his hat and wiped his brow, and then put it back on. “Well, let’s get the party started,” he said to Nomar.

  Nomar was about to reply when spotlights hit the airstrip area, blazing down from both the north and south mesas.

  “Shit!” Leo cursed.

  “Madre! Not this one!” Nomar shouted.

  Leo grabbed Nomar’s arm and pulled him toward the north side of the mesa just as the gunfire began and something exploded to the east.

  Chapter Forty

  Beverly and Preston were dropped off at the head of the wash, and they ran across the top of the mesa to the cliff ahead using handheld flashlights. The full moon and the amazing number of stars above lit up the sandy ground almost to the point where the flashlights weren’t necessary. However, a twisted ankle would be devastating out here if trouble arrived behind them, so they used the lights.

  As soon as they were in position and could see the trucks below on the flats, Bev used her radio to call in, “Bev and Preston are in position.”

  “Copy,” came Danny’s voice. “Safe hunting.”

  They watched as the guys below prepared the strip as Leo had instructed.

  “Kim is like a Mrs. Clever in army boots,” Bev said to Preston in a whispered voice.

  “Yes?”

  “I mean, she’s looking at the hole in the floor that the hand grenade made, and tells me she’s got Brent coming over to ‘spruce the place up,’” Bev said with a light laugh.

  Preston looked at her with a gleam in his eye. “Yes, she is funny as hell. She was a triage nurse in Iraq and Afghanistan. Nothing fazes her. A few dead bodies and a hole in the floor aren’t going to affect her at all.”

  “Wow, that explains a lot,” Bev agreed.

  She was not sure what made her turn and look behind her, but as soon as she did, she dropped to the ground. Preston followed her without hesitation. “Behind, looks like two,” she hissed. And then she heard the plane.

  Two men walked up so close to them that one nearly stepped on her. They looked over the ridge at the view below.

  “Major Les was right. Sooner or later, they would be back. And here they are,” one of the men said.

  They were both in desert camo, like Bev. She had picked up hers that afternoon from the Army Surplus store in Lakeside, not really knowing what the dress code was for a drug drop. No one had made any comments about her fatigues, though, and two of the others were dressed similarly. The rest were in basic black.

  She also had three Glocks on her: one in a shoulder rig, a second on her right hip, and the third at her back in a clip holster. Her dagger was on her left hip, and a combat knife was secured across her left breast, handle down. This armament did get some appraising eyes, but no comments. After that morning, she wasn’t going to get out-gunned again. She also had five flashbangs in her pockets.

  “Yep,” said the other man. “Well, I figure after the plane lands and they do the heavy work, we’ll put five or six grenades down there, and then play sniper while Major Les comes in with the rest of the boys and cleans up.”

  “Sounds about right,” said the first.

  “Go ahead and radio that in. Here comes the plane,” said the second.

  The first man got on his handheld radio and told “Major Les” what the plan is. The word came back that they would wait for the signal.

  “Copy.”

  Bev looked to Preston, who nodded and reaches for his combat knife, secured in the same position as her own. She came up slowly on one knee, and then pulled out her combat knife and attacked t
he one farthest away, leaving the other to Preston.

  Bev grabbed the man across his mouth, pulled his head back, and buried her blade into the lower spine area the Recons call the sweet spot. The man was dead before she let go of him. Preston chose to go up into the back of the skull, with the same effect.

  “Get their rifles and ammo,” Preston told her.

  The rifles were M16s with night scopes and M320 40mm grenade launchers attached in front of the magazines. Preston gave her a quick lesson on how to use the rifle and the launcher. Each man had a bandoleer belt of ten grenades, plus three magazines for the rifle. They took the radio as well as their watches and wallets. Preston explained that groups like this sync their watches with each other, so having theirs might be useful. Bev nodded and did as she was told. Her body was thrumming with adrenaline.

  As Preston led her back across the mesa, he radioed down to their own people, “We have company of the bandit kind. Probably vigilante home guards. Force size unknown yet, but plan B advised.”

  “Copy on plan B. Where are the hostiles?”

  “Top of the wash we came down from, I believe. Bev and I are on our way to scout and neutralize now.”

  “Advise us prior to action,” Danny told them through their earpiece radios.

  “Copy,” Preston said.

  “Copy,” Bev agreed.

  They moved quickly but didn’t run, as they weren’t using flashlights now.

  They came to the edge of the wash, and there on the slope below them were five dune buggies with two men each. Preston flipped up the cap on his scope and searched the area. Bev followed suit. It took a bit to get used to the night vision, but she was able to count out ten men. She looked farther up the wash and saw another dune buggy that was empty. She pointed this out to Preston, who nodded and then motions back to the two they had taken out. Bev nodded in agreement.

  They backed up from the edge and Preston gave the report to Danny. “Heavy arms, rifles, grenade launchers. We don’t want to go toe to toe with them. We’ll lose a vehicle for sure, at the very least.”

  “Agreed. We’ll take the other wash out of here, the one Leo has marked as being a mile ahead. Where do we pick you up?” Danny asked.

  Preston looked over at the empty dune buggy. “We got a ride. Meet you at the first rest stop.”

  “Copy. Good hunting.”

  “Copy, and thanks.”

  “Thanks,” added Bev.

  The first thing they did was check that buggy had the keys in the ignition. Seeing them there, they hurried back to position. Bev showed Preston her five flashbangs and he smiled. “You start first, from front to back. I’ll follow, going for the buggies with the launcher, then we’re out of here.”

  “Got it. Don’t look at these things. They’ll blind the shit out of you,” she warned.

  “I know it, trust me. I’ve witnessed the effects firsthand. Ready?” Preston asked.

  She nodded and got the first flashbang read to fly.

  “Go.”

  She could hear the plane engine revving up as she threw her first grenade, picked up the second and tossed it to follow, then hit the dirt, covering her ears. The concussions, even out there in the open, were monstrous. She wasted no time grabbing her third and fourth and letting them sail. Preston launched a 40mm into the first buggy and reloaded in time to hit the dirt with her again. Rocking explosions filled the night with yells of panic and surprise along with cries of pain.

  She threw her fifth flashbang into the center of the group and then picked up her rifle. She set like Preston had taught her and launched the loaded grenade at a buggy. She didn’t see if it hit its mark, because she hurriedly dropped to the ground again to avoid the flashbang detonation. She reloaded as Preston fired a grenade and dropped down. As he comes down, she rose up on her knee and fired hers. She had no idea how to aim the thing. She just pointed, fired, and dropped to reload.

  Preston fired again, then tapped her on the shoulder. He pulled out his flashlight and started to run. She looked over the edge and saw nothing but flames and confused men. She followed quickly, pulling out her own flashlight and running hard across the mesa.

  The plane took off. She saw it rising into the air. What the hell was Plan B?

  Preston reached the buggy long before she did. He started the engine and spun the buggy around with a power slide. Bev put her rifle behind the seat and jumped over and into the passenger side as Preston floored the gas. He rocketed them out of the mesa and onto the dirt road, leaving a hail of rock and dust behind them.

  “Danny! We’ve left the area,” Preston said into his radio. “Hostiles are hit and subdued. Probably mad as fuck, too. Over.”

  “Copy. We’ve left the area as well. Nearly to the wash. Lead car is already up and out of the flats. Over.”

  “Meet you at the rest stop. Out.”

  “Copy. Out.”

  “What’s Plan B?” Bev yelled over the din of the motor.

  “Angel flies the plane under radar to the road in front of the club and lands, then pulls the plane around to the back. We unload there,” Preston told her.

  “Ah, why wasn’t that Plan A?” she asked.

  “Because it’s risky as fuck. If Angel is spotted on anyone’s radar, or reported by some concerned citizen, he’s screwed, with a payload of 300 kilos. Even Jay isn’t that good. He’ll do a lot of time.”

  After a few miles, Preston said, “Look around and see if you can find some night vision goggles or something.”

  She looked around at her feet and behind the seats — which was when she spotted the headlights behind them. They were way behind them but moving fast. Preston picked up speed, and she looked more furiously for the night vision goggles. She found a set of goggles and showed them to Preston, who nodded and took them from her.

  “Lucky us!” he yelled with a smile.

  She nodded, gave a nervous smile in return, and picked up her rifle. She checked the grenade launcher, making sure the cartridge was loaded and ready, then checked her magazine. As soon as she was done, Preston put the goggles on and killed his lights, going dark.

  “We can’t lead them to the rest area!” Preston yelled. “We’ll never get rid of them if we do. Either we lose them, or you take them out.”

  “Got it!” she agreed.

  They only went another quarter mile before a helicopter flew low over them, heading toward the pursuing buggies whose lights were easily seen. Bev turned around on her knees to watch what happened, and she was stunned at what occured.

  “I think they are firing on that helicopter!” she yelled at Preston.

  “What? Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I can see the muzzle flashes. And someone launched a grenade!”

  “Fucking son of a bitch!” Preston yelled. He slowed down, then turned off the road into something that could barely be called a trail, and parked them well into the brush.

  “What’s up?”

  “That’s the DEA or Border Patrol they are firing on. They are in buggies like we are. This whole place is going to be swarming with everyone who has a badge within fifty miles in a few minutes. We’ll never get out of here now. We’ll have to wait them out.”

  “Shit. I hadn’t thought of that, but you are right,” she said, and she turned around to flop back in her seat. “Fucking militant assholes.”

  Preston took out his cellphone. He had a signal, so he called Danny and told him the situation.

  “I think you should head on back,” Preston told him. “This could take awhile to clear up.”

  “I’ll send the others ahead, but Austin and I will wait here for you. Angel has already called and let us know he made his landing and is safely behind the building. They can unload him and get that side of things cleared up.”

  “Copy that. We’ll try to find a way past them in about two hours. The hornets should be settled down by then.”

  “Good. Keep in touch,” Danny told them, and he broke the connection.

  �
�Just so you know, God,” Bev said bitterly to the stars, “when I fantasized about spending the night with him, this is not what I meant.”

  Preston laughed so loudly she was sure the world was going to hear him.

  She gave him a grin and wondered if Leo was safe yet.

  Chapter Forty One

  “Down the side!” Leo ordered Nomar, and he pushed him ahead, following him closely. “To those rocks! See them! Move!”