Chapter 29
Zayne
Last night was uneventful.
Talking with Chris at dinner yielded no usable conversation, and I got the distinct feeling that the man isn't closed off and protective of the information he holds. He's just not in the know.
It's not uncommon for certain members to just be what I call worker bees. They enjoy the "benefits" of the group, but they aren't the people who get leaned on for certain jobs. They're more likely to be sought out for menial jobs.
That could be because they haven't earned their place just yet, haven't fully proved their loyalty, or simply because there's something about their personality that the ones holding any sort of power just don't like.
As the creepy fucking van we're in bumps along the road, an ode to the fucker needing new shocks, I mentally make a plan to expand my little circle. Chris might be a little disappointed when I walk past him to sit with someone else at our next meal, but hurting someone's feelings isn't my concern.
I need information, and I'd like it faster than I've been able to get it so far.
The shortest time I've spent in one of these groups was just over six weeks, so I shouldn't be disappointed that we haven't gotten the information we need to put this one to an end.
The longest I've spent in a group was over five months, and there's no fucking way my sanity will survive being a part of this group for that long.
It is one of the more organized groups I've invaded, and it's also one of the larger ones.
I wouldn't be surprised if we later discover there are offshoots of this same group in other locations.
The compound alone is much larger than any one I've been to, and it doesn't surprise me that Cerberus gathered enough intel on them to make this all happen.
It doesn't make much sense to start with the smaller groups, effectively putting us at the bottom of the food chain, if we could gain access to the top.
We also run the risk that this branch of the LOL isn't at the top of the hierarchy, and by taking this group down, it will only make the ones above it tighten their security and recruiting, making it impossible to gain access to them.
Zeus fidgets beside me, and I know he's less than impressed to be riding bitch in this fucking vehicle.
The cargo van has had all the seats removed except for the front bench seat, leaving three of us inside, shoulder to shoulder, with all the supplies loaded in the back.
Another guy, introduced to us as Billy, is splayed out on a stack of dirty mattresses in the back, snoring loudly.
Luckily, he's also the guy who was about to walk away with a woman the other night. Given the chance to talk to him, I'd like to feed that anger and see if the guy gives us any usable information.
I'd hoped we'd wake up and be given the keys to our truck, with instructions to unload it and get the house ready.
We couldn't risk talking openly on the drive over because there's always a chance they put some sort of surveillance device in it, but not having to act like Lyle and Curtis for an hour or two would've been a great relief, a moment of respite required to keep our sanity.
Instead, we're being driven by Scott, the guy who wanted to rape the two hunters the other night with a fucking broomstick to prove just how not-homosexual he is. Zeus vibrates beside me in fury at having to be so close to the guy.
Unloading the van at the house doesn't take long. Just like Bobby said, it didn't have to be five-star accommodations. They haven't sent much to make it very comfortable.
We lay out half a dozen mattresses, no sheets to cover them, put the toilet paper in the bathroom, and get the small generator plugged up.
What takes up most of our time is using staple guns to cover the windows with the provided cardboard.
As secluded as this house is, light still travels, so the cardboard keeps suspicions down when they use the lights.
The generator doesn't provide the house with full power, but a few lamps were included in the supplies. I don't know if the people coming to use drugs here even care about being able to see around them, and I bet the light is for those responsible for supervising the place.
Scott and Billy disappear as Zeus and I finish the bedroom windows. I'm not at all surprised to find them sharing a glass pipe of meth when we walk outside.
"Want a hit?" Billy asks, offering the pipe to Zeus.
Scott slaps at his hand. "He's waiting for a fucking court date, you asshole," he mutters to his friend, revealing that he's someone others in higher positions have at least spoken in front of about us.
Billy takes one final hit, blowing the smoke in Zeus's direction.
Surprisingly, Zeus simply walks away rather than punching the guy in the face.
The restraint he shows is astounding, but I know he just put that man on his shit list, and God help his soul if he comes into contact with him during the takedown, not that my partner would be nice to any of them when the time comes.
"Another one down," Scott says with a smile as we climb back into the van. "Lunch at The Garage?"
"I could eat," I tell him, taking the middle spot.
I feel a sense of relief when Billy climbs in beside me, leaving Zeus to sit on the bare floor in the back. It's not ideal if we get into an accident, but knowing he's behind me, watching the guys if they do something crazy, makes me feel a little better.
Being on edge, filled with paranoia, and having to be aware of our surroundings all the time is exhausting.
Billy and Scott chatter among themselves as we make our way to The Garage for lunch, but they talk about stupid shit and conspiracy theories, giving us no new information to stow away for later use.
I play my part, feeding their suspicions about the government and their real desire to keep Americans poor with their hands out, always dependent on the very organization that is supposed to be there to help us.
Some of their points make sense. Some points are spot on. I can see how they fully believe the shit they're saying. I can see why they're angry.
What they can't see is the absolute privilege they have just by being born white males in today's society, and how the way they treat the women around them is no different from the way they feel they're being treated by the government. It's the fucking hypocrisy that kills me more than anything.
"You think Stella's working?" Billy asks, rubbing his hands together as if he's in for a treat.
"She's always working," Scott answers as he shifts the van into park before opening the driver's side door.
Zeus waits in the back as both Scott and Billy head for the door. I tug open the back door for him, smiling when he grumbles something incoherent under his breath as he climbs out.
"What was that?" I ask as we make our way to the front of the diner.
"Gonna die of a heart attack eating here," he mutters.
"Get a salad," I suggest, chuckling when he huffs.
The suspicion of ordering a fucking salad with these two other guys would be astronomical. But if anyone could get away with it, I imagine it would be him with his horrible attitude. They may think something was weird about it, but I doubt they'll actually voice their opinions to his face.
Scott and Billy are already seated at a four-top table when we get inside, sitting opposite each other.
"Gonna wash my hands," Zeus mutters, splitting off from me.
"Don't say shit about us getting high," Billy says as I pull a chair out to sit.
"Didn't see shit," I mutter, liking that I have the opportunity to form some sort of brotherhood with these guys.
It builds trust, which opens a lot of doors for us.
"It's not that we can't," Scott explains. "We're just supposed to leave that shit at home when we're working."
I lean in closer, making a point to look around before speaking. "That first night we worked with Bobby, he got high after the job was done."
Billy nods as if I've confirmed something he was suspicious about.
"I heard that you guys left him in the parking lot here, passed out," Scott says, also leaning in as if he's worried others around will hear our topic of discussion.
I shrug. "Didn't know what else to do. Didn't know where he lived. I bet he was pissed."
Scott shakes his head. "He thought it was funny. Ballsy even. It got you guys home faster than I've seen it happen before."
Home.
He means not only the compound but also into the brotherhood as if it's a highly sought-after position.
"I was thinking it was a little fast," I say, hoping the wording gives them what it would take to keep talking.
I look over the menu, fighting back the urge to laugh when I notice there isn't a single salad listed for order, not that Zeus would risk ordering one in the first place. Manly men don't eat salads. They want a steak or a greasy bacon cheeseburger and fries.
When neither of them speaks, I continue. "He must've seen something in us that made him want us closer."
Scott chuckles, but the sound has a sinister edge, as if he knows something about Bobby's true intentions for us that he doesn't plan to disclose.
"What's the point in washing your fucking hands if they don't have paper towels to dry them off on?" Zeus complains as he walks up, wiping his wet hands on his shirt.
"What can I get you guys?" a woman asks as she approaches, preventing the guys from pointing out that the rest of us weren't worried about germs on our hands before eating, and he shouldn't be either.
"Well, look at you?" Billy says, his eyes wandering over her as if she's one of the items on the menu. "Are you new here, pretty girl?"
She nods with a grin that seems genuine and will surely fade the more she learns about these guys.
"Go easy on me?" she teases as if getting attention from him brightens her entire day.
"Only the first time," Billy says, grinning widely.