Smolder: Trojans MC
Page 60
“We’re going to intercept the convoy at mile marker eighteen on the forty-five. I’m going to have over twenty cars ready to go. They’ll be tucked back in an empty lot and on my signal they’ll take down the truck and the bikers riding with it.”
“Sounds good. I’m going to have five bikes up front and six on the tail, so make sure six bikes pass before you let loose the dogs. What about the other people on the road?”
“It’ll be late at night, which should help, and we’re going to close down the roads on my command so hopefully we won’t put any civilians in danger.”
“So, we’re all ready to go...” Falcon said. He felt a knot tighten in his stomach. Once the raid was over, his life was over. This was the last thing he would ever do as Falcon Marks, member of the Screaming Eagles. After today everyone who knew him would think he had died. “How are we going to fake my death?” he asked and the words were so insane he almost couldn't say them.
“You should be last in line,” Grace said, and it was like her voice on the other end of the phone was the only thing in the world that existed. She was telling him how he was going to die and while it might not be a real death with a real body, it would be the end of Falcon’s life. He would never see the people he loved again; he would never be able to come back to this town. “When you hear the first siren, tell your men to keep going and you turn around like you’re going to confront us and buy them some time. I’ll give the signal to my men to take you alive. You’ll drive between the police cars, eventually going past them. Once you’re out of sight of the other members of the gang we’ll shoot off a few rounds to make it sound real. You’ll pull over to the side of the road and get in a squad car. It’ll be over in seconds.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Falcon said.
“It’s light on the details, I know, but there’s still a lot of unknowns. You’re a smart guy and you’re smart on your feet. I’m not worried about it.”
“You sound worried, though.”
“I guess I’m more worried about the next part. The part where this is all over, for good.”
“Me, too,” Falcon said with a sigh. “I’ll text you tomorrow, first thing.”
“Good,” she said. “Goodbye, Falcon. Sleep well, tomorrow this will all be over.”
“Yeah, goodnight,” Falcon said and he hung up the phone and dropped it on the bare floor of the shack. Tomorrow, for better or worse this would all be over. He wished he had more time. He wished he could put the shipment off another day, another month, another year. But why delay the inevitable? Every second that passed made it harder to leave. He needed to be strong now, for him and for Sophie. He needed to do one more job and then they would cast him off. Who knows where he would end up or what his life would look like? His life as he knew it didn’t exist past tomorrow.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Today is the day, Falcon. You ready?” Marco asked.
He and Falcon were in the warehouse sitting on overturned milk crates and drinking coffee. It was possibly the strongest cup of coffee Falcon ever had. It was black as night and thick as tar and he gulped it down as quickly as possible. There was a cigarette in his other hand. Falcon generally didn’t bother with cigarettes; in his opinion there were far better things to smoke out there, but he needed to keep himself calm. His leg was jiggling and he felt more nervous than he had ever felt in his entire life. The cigarette was to keep his hands busy, and to keep them from shaking.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Falcon said, taking a deep breath and another gulp of his heavy coffee. “I did all the prep work. The rest is up to fate, I guess.”
“Yeah well. I’m not gonna lie,” Marco said. “It feels better to see you nervous. That cooler than cool and calmer than calm shit you pulled last time was a little off, you know? You’re moving four million dollars worth of illegal shit, nerves are part of the deal.”
Around them over a dozen bikers were moving big, heavy boxes onto a large, white container truck. The truck was plain enough looking. It was registered to a dummy corporation Ernie had set up. The side of the truck had a simple blue logo created by one of the bikers; it showed a smiling globe waving its hand and proclaiming, “The Travelling Company. We get Your Stuff There!” It was just boring and vague enough to discourage anyone from bothering to search for any information on it.
Falcon stood up and rolled out his shoulders. The last few days had been the longest of his life, and at the same time they had passed too quickly. This was it, this was his last day as Falcon Marks. By this time tomorrow Falcon would have a new identity, a new name, and whole new life somewhere else. He had spent his last days as Falcon Marks hard at work. But he didn’t regret it. He had pushed the reality far back in his head in order to do what he needed to do. But now that it was time to go, he wished he had done everything differently.
“Hey, Phil, you ready for today?” Falcon asked the large balding man watching the bikers pack up the truck, his arms crossed in front of him. Falcon missed Eric and he wished the straight-laced kid was here. Phil was older and a little ornery, he wasn’t as good at taking orders as Eric had been.
“I know what I’m doing, Falcon,” Phil said, not bothering to turn his head. “I’ve been doing this a long time, far longer than you. I’m fine.” He finally turned and looked at Falcon, sneering at him. “Don’t worry, I won’t fuck up your unearned promotion.”
Falcon said nothing. He was seething inside from the insult, but at the same time his anger felt very far away. If he weren’t about to throw his entire life away Falcon would have thrown down right there in the garage. He was in charge and he couldn’t have men questioning his authority. But Phil knew what he was doing; he knew Falcon couldn’t do anything at that moment, with the truck filled and ready to go. They didn’t have time to get into a fight right now. They were on a tight schedule and Phil knew it.
I’ll deal with it tomorrow, Falcon thought and then he realized that he wouldn't be here tomorrow and neither would Phil. Let the other man get mouthy, let him try and push Falcon around. Within an hour Phil would be in jail and Falcon would be heading towards his new life. It calmed his seething nerves and he rolled his eyes at Phil and walked away from the other man.
“Ready to go,” that had been the message from “Princess Bubblegum” herself. Grace was in position. She and her entire team were ready and no one had found out about Falcon working with the police. He had spent the last couple of weeks screwing a cop and turning on his gang and no one had any idea.
He was actually going to pull this off and the thought terrified him. Everything had been in preparation for this. Every communication between him and Grace, all the planning, all the work. When he had been working on the shipment it had been easy to forget what the stakes were. The day when it would all come together seemed so far away that it might not even be real. Now it was very real, it was today, it was happening all around him. Falcon felt like a kid sitting in the middle of a merry-go-round, everyone was hanging off the edges while he sat and watched everything turn. He knew exactly how this day was going to unfold and he was the only person in the room who did.
“All right, listen up!” Falcon said as he jumped up on a milk crate. Not that he needed to, he was easily the tallest person in the room. “Today’s shipment needs to go well if this gang wants to live to see another day. We’ve had a lot of run-ins with the cops recently and that cannot happen on this run. This is not some big event where everyone needs to show off. This is a simple run. We get the truck to the yards, we get our money, and we come home. Everyone knows their places and everyone needs to remain in their positions. I don’t want anyone drawing any attention to themselves. Understood?”
The men around him nodded and crossed their arms. This was dangerous for them. They all knew what kind of charges they were looking at if they got caught. Falcon felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. They were all praying and hoping that everything would be fine. They were hoping that this would be a simple ride
and easy way to make some money. But all of their hopes and prayers were useless. This was a set-up and none of them would walk away from it.
“Get into positions. We leave in ten,” Falcon jumped down from the milk crate and watched as the rolling door to the back of the truck was closed and an electronic padlocked was locked around the handle. Falcon and Grace were the only people who had the number that could unlock it.
Grace, he needed to focus on Grace. A lot of men were going to get arrested today, a lot of lives were going to be ruined, but some would be improved. Grace would be a hero; she would be congratulated and may be promoted. It was a good thing. She was a good cop and she deserved it. She was going to make the world a better place and Falcon was grateful he had been able to help her. Plus, the drugs in police lock up meant they wouldn’t be out on the street. No junkies would get high off of this. They might find something else to get high with, but at least it wasn’t coming from Falcon.
Falcon walked out with Marco and they each took to their bikes as the rest of the Screaming Eagles followed. The air was thick with tension. Everyone knew how high the stakes were, everyone knew what was on the line, but they went anyway. Men were chain smoking cigarettes and joints to calm their nerves and pass the time.
“You go ahead and lead the way; we won’t be far behind,” Falcon said to Marco.
Marco was the lead. He would drive in front of the truck and the other bikers on the advance guard. As soon as he left the real party would start. Grace would be on the lookout for Marco, Falcon had given her the plates to Marco’s motorcycle and once she saw them, she would know to expect the truck and then the rear guard. Falcon was pulling up the rear, he would be the last biker and when she saw him she would know that it was time to act.
“No matter what stick to the route,” Falcon said as he and Marco shared a fist bump. Marco slipped his helmet over his head and revved his bike.
Falcon knew at that moment he could stop all of this. This entire time he had always known in the back of his mind he could go to Ernie and tell him everything. He could be a double agent for the Screaming Eagles instead of the cops. There had always been that easy out lurking in the back of his mind. But if he let Marco go, the out would go with him. If he let Marco go and something went wrong and they found out about the cops waiting on the road, Falcon would be at the mercy of the Screaming Eagles. There would be nothing he could say to save himself.
Was he ready for this? Was he ready to betray his gang and say goodbye to his life? He had other choices; there were other ways this could all go down. It was up to Falcon now. He was in complete control of this situation. He knew where the cops and the Screaming Eagles were and he was the only person who knew. So what was it going to be. Would the Screaming Eagles get a last minute reprieve, would there be a call from the governor giving a stay of execution? Or was Falcon really going to do this?
“God speed,” Falcon said and Marco headed down the deserted street.
Chapter Thirty
The former silence of the desolate street was destroyed as a dozen bikes roared to life. The rumbling of their engines echoed off the tall empty buildings around them making it sound like there were hundreds of bikes. The sky above them was grey and the sun’s light fought its way through the rain-heavy clouds above them.
The rain, of course it was threatening rain. Falcon had checked the news that morning and they promised it wouldn’t rain until nightfall. It never rained in L.A., so of course, on this day, when his life was hanging in the balance, the weather was refusing to cooperate. He refused to think about signs or omens. It was just the weather; it didn’t mean anything.
Falcon slipped his helmet over his head and leaned over his handlebars. He was ready to go. He was ready to get this over with. He accepted his fate as best he could. He knew he was going to have to leave Falcon Marks behind and in leaving his life he would have to leave his daughter. But Grace was right; it was the best option and it was the one he had decided to take. Now all he needed was to take the first step towards his new life and the rest would be decided for him.
Marco was only half a block away when a car came screaming down the street. It was going the wrong way down a one-way street, racing around the corner and going faster and faster. It was a jeep that Falcon knew belonged to the gang and he could recognize Rubio and another man in the backseat. They were gesturing wildly at Marco, and Falcon’s heart skipped as he saw them order Marco to turn around.
Shit. Stay cool, relax. Don’t give anything away. Shit. Something must be wrong. But what? Did they find out about the cops? Am I blown? Shit! Should I run? Should I stay? I can’t run, they’re all armed; they’ll shoot me before I’m ten feet away. Maybe being shot is preferable. Wait. Patience. They might not know anything. Shit! Just wait.
His thoughts were panicked and out of control. They were rushing over each other as each one overtook the other. But none of them really helped him. He couldn’t run; he wouldn’t get ten feet before he was shot. It might be nothing; he had gone this long without getting caught. He couldn’t panic now. His mind was racing but up front he kept a stern expression and his hands steady as he removed his helmet at watched the car come to a screeching halt in front of him.
Rubio jumped out of the car, surprisingly quick in his feet for such a large guy. He had his gun out and it was pointed right at Falcon. Falcon’s entire body tensed up, but his face remained an angry mask as he looked beyond the gun to the man holding it.
“The fuck, Rubio?” Falcon demanded. “You trying to steal the drugs? Is this a holdup? Because we kind of outnumber you.”
“The cops are fucking waiting for us. There was a shootout on the road. They know everything and the only way they could know is if you told them. You’re a fucking traitor, Falcon Marks.”
“What?” Falcon yelled. His stomach had dropped at Rubio’s accusation. He felt sick and he was shaking all over but his instincts had kicked in. His gut had spoken and it had told Falcon to lie about everything. He needed to protest his innocence no matter what they threw at him. “I’m not a fucking rat and fuck you for saying so. You think you can insult me like that?” Falcon threw down his helmet and jumped off his bike. And then a shot rang out, it hit the dirt right in front of his feet and Falcon was stopped dead in his tracks.
“Had to be you,” Rubio shouted. “There was only one person who knew everything, one person in charge of this operation. Do you think Ernie is stupid? Do you think he became the leader of the Screaming Eagles by luck? No! He got it because he is smarter than you. You’re the only one who knew all the details; there’s a rat in Screaming Eagles and it’s you.”
He felt every eye as they turned on him. He felt every glare from the men behind him as one by one they turned to stare at him. He could see hands as they reached for guns and he could see as they made eye contact with each other, each one silently talking with the other. They were thinking about how they could cut off any escape routes and deal with Falcon if he got violent.
“I’m not a rat! I swear it. This is bullshit. Somebody’s setting me up.” He searched the faces around him for some show of sympathy or anyone who could be on his side, but he was only met with anger and mistrust.
“First, there was the raid on the processing center, then the hit on the apartment, and now the cops are sitting on our route. What’s the one thing they all have in common, Falcon? It’s you. You were involved in all those operations and you somehow always managed to get away because you’ve been working with cops. Who knows for how long you’ve been ratting out your brothers. Take him.”
“Fuck off!” Falcon shouted, he pulled his gun out of his holster and pointed it at Rubio. “I’m not a traitor and I am not gonna let Ernie frame me for this shit.”
“Why would Ernie want to frame you; you barely exist to him.”
“That’s just it,” Falcon said. “I’m just like all of you. I’m a grunt. Ernie offered me this job, he promoted me, and it was all just a trick to frame me.
”
“So what? Ernie’s the bad guy? The boss is ratting on his game. That don’t make no sense, Falcon. You ain’t getting away from this. So put your gun down and get in the car. We’re taking you home.”
“You think I’m just gonna go back with you? I know what they’re gonna do to me in that clubhouse. I would rather die here in the street like a dog then go back and face that.” Falcon had his gun held in both hands and it was pointed at Rubio’s face. “I’m a good shot and you know it. I’ll take at least four of you with me when I go.”
“You’re good, Falcon. But not that good. You might fire one round off, but you’ll be riddled with bullets before you can fire a second time. But let’s be real here. You’re not gonna die in this street. You claim you’re innocent? Prove it. Come back with me to the clubhouse and prove that you’re not working with the cops and then no one has to die.”
“You really want one of us to go out with you, Falcon?” Marco asked. “I thought we were all the same, just a bunch of grunts on the bottom of the totem pole. You really want to kill one of us on your way out? Why don’t you do what Rubio says and go face Ernie. Don’t die here like this, don’t kill anyone. At least make your case first.”