30. Mad Dog
MAD DOG
An empty parking lot in front of an abandoned lumber depot seems about as appropriate as it can get for a hostage exchange. It’s outside both our territories, in a run down no-man’s land that’s wide open enough to leave few places for snipers to hide. Neutral ground for the hostage exchange.
Giving them Melody still doesn’t sit right with me, but it’s what we all agreed on.
Eagle-eye gave her a choice, but she trusts Clutch to keep her safe, so I have to keep my mouth shut and watch her walk away.
Doesn’t mean I have to fucking like it. The only reason I give a fuck about her father is because his death would hurt her, and if he was the shooter… Well, he’ll pay the price.
We all will. I don’t see a world where Melody finds out we killed her daddy in cold blooded revenge without the thought keeping her up at night while she tries to sleep in the bed beside us.
So if I’m holding her a little close while we watch the Devil’s Brigade cars and bikes pull in, I don’t give a shit.
Both sides agreed to take about a dozen men so things couldn’t escalate into a full on war, but twelve trained men can still fuck a lot of shit up.
They stop about a hundred feet away. Close enough to yell, but a trick shot with a pistol.
We wait for them to convince themselves that they’re not about to get jumped, and then there’s a smaller procession of bikes that comes rolling in behind them, with Clutch and Rocco in the middle.
Last of all is a black van, presumably with our prize for the day.
They come to a full stop, Clutch and Rocco dismounting slowly like a couple of fucking drama queens, and then the rest of their men. A couple steps forward to give the van room to park in the middle of it all, and then they’re ready to start the show.
Eagle-eye has been waiting, seated on his classic bike, watching calmly.
We’ve got a van for getting Joker outta here and bringing Killjoy, but the rest of us are here on our bikes.
Other than that, no theatrics. We know who we are.
There’s no fucking way the Devil’s Brigade would dare try something at this point.
If they did, there would be no more forty-eight-hour reprieves. We would fucking destroy them.
“I’m nervous.” Melody presses against me.
“Say the word, and we take you away from here right now.”
“No. I need to do this for Dad. I don’t want anyone else to be killed.”
Riptide, on the opposite side of her, huffs. “If it comes to it, I’ll kill every single one of those fuckers to keep you safe.”
“Well, let’s hope it won’t come to that.” She rests a hand on his arm, getting that last moment of connection.
Rocco walks out confidently in front of his crew, or at least with the intention of seeming confident.
He’s one costume change short of a cowboy hat and revolvers at both hips.
If he stands any wider he’s gonna look like he’s fucking riding.
Getting a real ‘this town ain’t big enough for the two of us’ vibe.
“Eagle-eye!”
Prez dismounts, briefly rolling his eyes. There’s a time for grandstanding, but right now he just seems sick of it all as he steps up to the front. “Rocco. I’m not interested in waving our dicks at each other. Let’s get this over with and go home.”
“You have the hostages?”
“Aw, fuck. Knew I forgot something.” Eagle-eye scoffs. He raises a hand and motions for us to bring Melody and Killjoy. “Of course I’ve got the fucking hostages. Bring out Joker, and we’ll start.”
Standing behind her, Rebel puts comforting hands on both of Melody’s shoulders. “Guess it’s showtime. I expect you to keep an eye on your phone, okay? Especially for the next day or so. We’re gonna be checking in to make sure you’re not in trouble.”
“You sound like my mom,” she quips quietly, but she leans into him before taking the first step forward.
“Your mom was a wise woman then. Fucking call us.”
The Devil’s Brigade pulls someone out of the back of the van.
Pillowcase over his head, his hands are still cuffed but his legs are free for him to walk.
Joker moves slowly and carefully, even with a couple of the guys there urging him ahead.
After locking him up like that, they could at least let the fucker see. Just wasting time now.
The guy at his side pushes him to the front with a rough shove that almost has Joker going on his face.
Clutch pulls the pillow case off. Joker’s looking rough.
His face is bruised, and his hair greasy like he hasn’t washed in days.
A cloth gag is shoved into his mouth and kept in place with duct tape.
The cloth is stained with red, and I don’t think it started that way.
“As promised, Eagle-eye,” Rocco yells. “Show me the goods.”
“Here goes nothing.” Melody brushes her hand over each of us briefly, a subtle but no less meaningful goodbye. Making a big show could create problems for her with the Brigade. Besides, I don’t think any of us want to share what we have with the enemy.
Schooling her expression and wiping away a tear that made its escape, she sends a wan smile our way before walking up to the front.
Shadow and Thunder pull Killjoy out of the back of the van, nudging him up to the front next to Melody. Outlaw follows close behind, his hand on his piece. All three of them insisted on being here, leaving Harper to take care of Lightning. They’re not being gentle.
“Alright, send him this way, and we’ll send ours.” Eagle-eye crosses his arms over his chest and glares at Rocco until he looks away. “Take your time. Don’t want anyone getting twitchy.”
The hostages start their march across the open space between us, walking steadily.
There’s an eagerness in Killjoy’s step despite his limp.
Joker walks proudly, like this was his idea all along.
Melody isn’t exactly dragging her feet, but it’s obvious this isn’t what she wants.
She and Joker exchange a look as they pass each other, but his is hard to read and I can’t see her face.
I think she says something to him, but it’s too quiet for me to hear, and then the moment is over.
Killjoy takes a moment to veer toward Joker, and leans in to say something. Whatever it was, it pisses him off. With a muffled roar, Joker charges Killjoy with a shoulder tackle that knocks him right on his ass. Joker follows up with hard kicks to his side and head. Fuck.
Melody veers hard left, glancing over her shoulder at what’s going on just long enough for me to see the fear in her eyes. Clutch comes out to meet her, putting himself between her and the fight. He guides her away, out of the line of fire. At least she’s fucking safe.
Devil’s Brigade members rush forward to protect Killjoy, and then we’re rushing in to pull Joker the fuck outta there before someone kills the bastard.
And then it’s all fucking chaos. A couple guys pull Joker back, others pull Killjoy back to his feet, but then someone throws a fucking punch, and all hell breaks loose.
This was going so fucking well too.
Even with his hands bound, Joker is a force to be reckoned with. He throws his head back and nails the guy holding him in the face, sending him reeling and spurting blood. Shadow and a Brigade member tug Killjoy in opposite directions, but Bear is on his way to settle that argument.
A different member throws a punch at Joker’s unprotected gut, but I capture his fist before he gets that far. “No fucking with our property. Take your guy and get the fuck outta here.”
It devolves into a fucking brawl. A guy swings for me. I block it, but then another guy barrels into him, and I fucking swear that’s another Brigade member. What the fuck is happening? Why are they fighting each other?
Rebel flips one over his shoulder, but Riptide takes a fist to the face as another grabs his cut long enough to distract him.
I capture the arms of the guy who punched him and throw him back into the crowd.
As more and more members on both sides throw themselves into it, keeping track is getting harder.
“Where’s Joker?” I yell. He’s the one we need.
A car starts on the other side of the brawl, but as long as they’re not gonna use it to barrel through the crowd, the least of my worries is someone getting away. Unless it’s fucking Joker.
Riptide, working his jaw after the punch, points. “Over there.”
Joker, cuffs hanging loose off one wrist, his gag gone, is wrestling one of the Devil’s Brigade members to the ground, throwing him down with so much force that I hear his head crack on the asphalt from back here. Another one throws himself at him, but is forced to the side by yet another attacker.
We’ve been pulled into a fucking civil war.
I punch and wrestle my way toward Joker, flanked by Riptide and Rebel.
I don’t fucking care what happens internally in the Devil’s Brigade, but we promised Melody to keep Joker as safe as we can, and we can’t do that if her father manages to fucking kill himself because he’s got some kinda revenge fantasy going on.
“Come on!” I shove a fucker to the side. Rebel slams his fist into another, who goes down like he just learned what gravity is. Riptide spins a guy with so much force that he trips and rolls down the asphalt behind us.
Wait. Who the fuck gave Joker a gun?
Two Brigade members have Rocco by the arms, holding him still, while he yells in panic. “Fucking help me! Goddamn traitors!”
Joker’s mouth twists into a victorious grin, a trail of blood sliding down his chin from his mouth. He points the gun at Rocco’s head.
Fuck.
“Clutch was right. You shoulda killed me while you had the chance.”
Joker pulls the trigger.