Chapter 34
34
Diesel
T emporary blindness has me in its clutches.
I’m functioning. I’m walking, talking, doing what I need to do as a normal human being, but as a man, I’m switched off, stuck in power-saving mode, frozen as I try to figure out what we’re going to do next.
“Keep a lookout,” Knox tells me.
We’ve snuck inside the clubhouse, which is wrapped in yellow tape and sealed off to everybody except law enforcement.
“Good thing they got sloppy and posted only a single deputy outside,” Jagger mutters as he walks past me and joins Knox behind the bar.
I glance out the window. The deputy’s car is parked across the road. They can’t see anything from there, and we didn’t bother any of the tape. “Come on, coast is clear. Clubhouse is ours unless somebody comes in,” I tell Knox. “I locked the door from the inside too.”
“I left the dark room key in here,” Knox tells Jagger.
“The dark room,” Jagger says, his gaze turning cold. “We’re really doing this?”
“Do we have a better choice?”
“No.”
“I need you to keep your cool,” Knox says to me. “I need you to be who you used to be back in the service, Diesel. In perfect control.”
I can’t help but smile. “Is that why you were trying to put me on lookout duty? You’re afraid I might’ve lost my edge?”
“I’m underestimating you, aren’t I?” he shoots back with a smirk.
“Our woman is in Calvin’s clutches. And our kid is with her. Both kids, actually. The one who loves riding with us, and the one who’s going to come into a better world because we’re going to make it better,” I tell my blood brothers. “We’re trying to save our family, so you bet your sweet ass I am who I’ve always been: in perfect control, and I need to check my M4s before we go out there.”
Knox chuckles lightly and fishes the key out from behind the till. “Got it. Fine, let’s go get your M4s personally checked, you ritzy motherfucker.”
The dark room is a secret unit on the ground floor of the clubhouse. Nobody knows about it because it was not in the building’s original blueprints.
“Here we go,” Knox says as he steps into the narrow hallway leading toward the back door. We stop halfway through between two large metal panels made up of motorcycle parts—they cover the walls from ceiling to floor—supposedly decorative elements. “It’s been a while since we’ve been here,” he adds, then sticks the key through a seemingly unrelated hole in between the spokes of a Harley wheel. Upon turning it, we hear a familiar low click. “Apologies for the dust.”
“Yeah, pity the cleaning staff never made it in here,” Jagger quips.
Knox pulls the panel open—it doubles as a secret door, perfectly masked. We go in and turn the lights on to reveal our carefully curated arsenal of combat weaponry. We brought home a lot of stuff while some of the items in here were purchased later over the years from different gun shows and independent sellers.
“We should use the ones with the serial numbers filed off,” I suggest. “Just in case.”
“That’s everything on the left side of the room,” Knox says, nodding in agreement.
We grab a few empty duffel bags and start loading them up. Automatic and semiautomatic weapons along with their respective boxes of ammunition— flash and smoke grenades aplenty, heat-scanning equipment and silencers, a couple of packs of C4, wiring and detonating devices, which would be Jagger’s specialty—while I check my M4s and pack my sniper rifle too. Chances are, I’ll use that first.
“How are we going to do this?” Jagger asks, and we both look at Knox, who picks out a Kevlar vest for each of us. “Which scenario? ’Cause we’ve dealt with hostage situations very differently in the past.”
“I’m thinking Bahra,” Knox replies. “Five-man job. We take two of our most trusted guys to work with us, maybe Jorge and Stellan. They’re both former Marines, albeit a decade older.”
“They saw their fair share of action, though, most of it in Iraq if I remember correctly,” Jagger replies.
I shake my head. “Remember Raqqa?”
Knox gives me a hard look.
“Shit, Diesel,” Jagger says. “That’s really fucking dark. This isn’t Raqqa.”
“But the location where Calvin wants us to meet is almost identical,” I say. “We’re probably dealing with fewer hostiles compared to the insurgents we had to take down back there. I’ll get the ball rolling,” I add, raising my sniper rifle to the front, “me and my friend here.”
“Jagger and I come in from the sides then,” Knox concludes. He doesn’t sound too happy about it, but I can see the grim realization written all over his face. “It makes more sense. It’s also riskier. The slightest delay—”
“We time it. We’ve done it before,” I insist. “Knox, Diesel, you’re the two people I trust most in this world. And Robyn, Kyra, the baby… they matter the most to us. We have to be the ones doing this. No one else gets dragged into it, especially if bodies drop. We’ve done it before. We know how to play it out.”
Knox nods slowly. “As much as I hate to admit it, yeah. Reason would dictate that we put a team together.”
“This isn’t about reason, though.”
“You’re right. It’s about us and Robyn, our family.”
Jagger sighs deeply. “You’re lucky I trust you to make that shot, Diesel, otherwise I’d never agree to this.”
“Your confidence is all I need, brother.”
I’m about to move in and shake their hands, but the sound of footsteps causes the three of us to turn toward the door. Ellie walks in with a dark look on her face and a gun pointed our way. A Glock. The kind they issue law enforcement.
“Don’t move,” Ellie says, her voice low and cold.
“Ellie? What the fuck are you doing?” Knox asks.
We slowly inch farther apart from one another. We’ve been in the crossfire before, so we never stick closer together when we’re threatened. She can’t hit all three of us at once. My stomach churns as new implications arise, as I measure this young woman from head to toe and try to figure out if she’s a foe or simply misguided.
“I’m a Federal agent,” she says. “DEA.”
“Credentials,” I reply dryly.
Ellie squints her brown eyes at me, but she knows I’m not playing. She obliges. With one hand still holding the gun, she takes out a badge from her jacket pocket. “I’ve been watching you fellas for over a year now.”
“We trusted you.”
“That was the point. It means I did my job right,” Ellie replies. “Nothing personal. I hope you understand. I was actually growing quite fond of you.”
“So you’re one of Spalding’s crooked agents?” Knox asks, his brow furrowed.
“Crooked?”
“You’ve been casing us. Tell it like it is. You’ve been watching us, building your operation with Marlo Hughes and Calvin Russo,” he says.
Ellie shakes her head. “You’ve got it wrong. And what you’re storing in this room is insanely illegal I’m guessing. So you’re all under arrest. I have to take you in for questioning.”
“Is it you and Spalding or just you? Or is Spalding calling all the shots and you yip at his heels like a lap dog?” I ask, my right hand slowly, ever so slowly dropping while the tension between us rises. My heart thuds furiously while my brain analyzes our options.
There’s no way we’re getting arrested, not when Robyn is in danger, not when we don’t even know, nor can we correctly ascertain, where Ellie’s allegiance lies. Either way, Ellie really is the last thing we need to deal with right now.
“We’ll talk about this once I have you in custody,” she says.
With lightning speed, I pull out my gun and point it at her. “Fucking hell, Ellie. Were you involved? They took Robyn.”
She stills, looking rather confused. “What?”
“Calvin and Marlo. They took her. Did you have anything to do with that?” I ask again, my blood simmering with uncontrollable rage.
“We were supposed to meet, but she never—”
POP.
I discharge my weapon close enough to Ellie to startle and distract her.
“Move!” I shout.
A split second later, we bolt out the door with our weapons and ammo, sweating bullets as we reach the clubhouse exit.
Ellie fires at us.
POP. POP. POP.
She misses, maybe on purpose.
“Stop!” she shouts.
But we’re not stopping anytime soon.
Once we’re out, we spring for a clean escape. Our pickup truck is waiting, keys still in the ignition. We dump the bags in the truck bed, then jump in. By the time Ellie catches up, our wheels are spinning like crazy, raising dust and dirt as we skid out onto the road.
Knox is driving, furious as hell. Jagger and I keep looking back.
Ellie’s left on the edge of the road, shaking her head, gun at her side.
“What the fuck was that?” Jagger gasps. “Is she in on it? Is she one of them?”
“I’m not sure it matters at this point. It could’ve been a ruse,” I say. “Ellie could be the dirty DEA agent Patches mentioned. Calvin and Marlo could’ve sent her in to supposedly arrest us.”
“She could’ve killed us right then and there if she wanted,” Jagger says.
Knox sighs deeply. “Maybe she wanted to do it somewhere else off camera. The CCTV was still working in there. Diesel’s right. We can’t take any chances. Besides, you heard her. Ellie was supposed to meet Robyn. How much do you want to bet that’s how they got Robyn?”
“This is getting increasingly more complicated,” Jagger snaps. “Who the fuck do we trust?”
“What did I say back there?” I remind him through gritted teeth.
“We only have each other,” he mutters.
“That’s right,” I say. “We go get Robyn ourselves. It’s us versus them. There’s no room for error, no trust left for anybody else, especially for someone who’s been surveilling us for so fucking long.”
“One thing’s for sure,” Knox adds, “Ellie saw us back there, weapons and all. If she’s in cahoots with Marlo and the gang, then they’ll know we’re coming for them.”
“We’re going to have to tweak our approach a little,” I tell Knox. “But nothing’s changed. They want us there. We have to be there.”
“I agree, brother,” he says. “I think I know how we’re going to swing it.”