by Blair Grey
Picking up her messenger bag, she fished out a crumpled piece of paper at the very bottom of it. “Oops. I seem to have wrinkled this.” Sliding it across my desk, she went on, “It’s this evening’s agenda for your council meeting.”
With a pencil in hand, I jotted down the addition to tonight’s agenda. One of the most interesting agendas that had come my way in a very long time. “Clyde Thomas, from the Baltimore chapter of the Iron Cobras, would like us to entertain the idea of sending some security to them for the period of one year.” Putting the pencil back into the holder full of them, I looked at Amanda to find a funny look on her face. “You think this will be a problem?”
“Maybe.” With a gesture to my laptop that sat on the far edge of my desk, she asked, “Have you checked if you have people free to cover that area? Baltimore is a bit over a half-hour away – without traffic congestion. With heavy traffic, it’s an hour or more. Do we have anyone who lives in that direction that might make the trip bearable?”
She was right to have brought that up, so I got on my computer to see what kind of time we had open and who could take on the job. “Well, James, Nancy, Peter, and Logan all live out that way. But all of them are on various duties for politicians here in D.C. And I know we can’t take them off those details.”
“New hires?” she asked with a grin. “We’ve got prospects out the ass. Maybe put a few of them on this new gig.”
“Without any training?” I wasn’t sure about that.
“Might I point out that all of our prospects are ex-military?” Her eyes glistened as she thought herself pretty damn smart. “With a few day’s-worth of training, any of them should be able to understand what their job is.”
“It might help to get the votes I’ll need to take this job on before we go figuring out how we’re going to man it. Money isn’t a thing everyone in our MC cares about. I, on the other hand, know it’s extremely important to make as much as we can.” The money would be what I would have to lean on to get the council to approve this job. And I’ve got to get this job approved. “One never knows when private security will become a thing of the past.”
“I don’t think that will ever happen, Tequila.” She pulled the rubber band off her blonde ponytail, shaking out her long hair. “It’s quitting time for me. I’ve gotta go home to Joey to take over the kids while he gets some free time. The joys of co-parenting know no ends.”
I thought it was cool how she and her kids’ dad handled things. “If it matters at all, I think you and Joey have it all figured out. Your romantic relationship didn’t work out, but you have two kids, so you made things work. Finding a house with a garage and making that garage into an apartment for him was smart.”
“Yeah, I’m a genius. And Joey has a date, so I’d better hurry so he can have time to primp. He’s such fancy-man.” Getting up, she laughed. “I honestly don’t know what I ever saw in him. I like manly men. He’s so not that.”
“But he’s an awesome dad and that’s even better.” I wished all fathers could’ve been more like the one Amanda had for her kids. “See you on Monday. Have a nice weekend.”
“You too.” She went to the door before turning to look back at me. “Tell Tommy that Sage is having friends over to play video games on Saturday afternoon. He can come if he’d like.”
“I’ll ask and let you know.” Tommy wasn’t that interested in violent video games, so he turned down most activities that included them. “Thanks for the invitation.”
“Sure.”
Sipping on the Scotch, I wondered what it would be like if Tommy had had a good father. Not having one at all had to have been hard. Not that the boy said much about that.
Before I could finish the drink, my cell dinged with a message from the MC’s secretary, letting me know that she would like a copy of the agenda.
Being that my copy looked like something that had been dragged out of a trashcan, I tried to flatten it out the best I could before taking a picture of it then sending it in a text to her.
The meeting was only fifteen minutes away, and I wasn’t looking forward to it. Grabbing my glass, I got up, sipping it as I left my office to get to the boardroom.
Being that our MC was more business-oriented than most MC’s, our headquarters resembled a business complex much more so than a typical biker’s club. Except for the bar we had in the very back which adjoined the workshop and garage where we parked our bikes. That was the place where we felt most like bikers. The scent of old leather, booze, and oil and gas fumes brought our lifestyle into focus while we were in our bar.
As I went down the hall, I saw the door to the boardroom was open. Bright light spilled into the hallway as Sandra, the secretary, placed copies she’d made of the agenda in each place. Our round table was painted blue with one large white star in the middle of it. Red letters that went all the way around the outer edge spelled out, The Keepers. It looked majestic as it sat in the middle of the large room.
“Evening, Sandra.” I took my place, sitting in the white leather chair with a high back. Leaning back in it, I loved how it seemed to envelop me with a warm embrace. “You ready for the meeting?”
“My part’s done.” She took her seat, directly across from mine. “Julia’s bringing some sort of alcoholic drink. Marcos wants us all to join him at the bar when this is over. He’s made something for us to eat afterward. Something he’s calling, his specialty. Whatever that is.”
Being that our members had been all over the world, when someone said they were making food, we never knew what to expect. “Hope it’s not eels served in the belly of a python.”
“Me too.” She put her hand over her mouth as she mock gagged. “That was awful.”
“I think no one would dare to bring live food into our bar again. The guns that went off that night made for a night to remember.” I had to laugh. “I was able to sneak out without having to eat any of that nasty crap.”
“Lucky.” Holding up one finger, she said, “I had to eat one of the slimy creatures. Never again. I will leave this club before something like that ever enters my mouth again. I felt it wiggling in my stomach for a half-hour.”
“Good Lord!” Glad to have avoided that horrible feeling, I got up as our vice president came in. “Marcos, how’s it going?” I shook his hand to greet him, then took my seat again.
“It’s going well, Tequila, thanks for asking.” He took the place next to me. “I hope you’ve brought your appetite this evening. Warming up in the bar’s kitchen is a feast for our council. I had a real Texas smokehouse brisket flown in. And I made my special pinto beans to go with it. At first, I was only going to make my beans, but then I thought that the meat would make my treat even more special.”
“Sounds awesome.” I was so happy that it was normal food.
One by one, the other council members trickled in. The treasurer, Phillip Constantine, followed by the enforcer, Julia Costas, then last but not least, the sergeant at arms, Leslie Ann Bixby. With everyone seated, Sandra began the meeting. “Good evening, everyone. We only have a few items on tonight’s agenda to go over. Afterward, Marcos and Julia want to invite everyone to join them at the bar for a meal and drinks. With no further ado, I will give the floor to our president, Tequila Santos.”
“It’s nice to see you all here this evening,” I began as I eyed the page in front of me before looking at everyone. “The first item we need to talk about is the summer tour. With our road captain out of commission, we need to put another person in that place until formal elections are held next year. Does anyone have prospects they would like to enter at this time?”
Phillip raised his hand. “I would like to nominate, Stone Baker.”
Julia raised her hand. “I would like to nominate my husband, Richard Costas.”
I liked her idea as well. “I will second that nomination, Julia. He’s done some excellent work in the past. Would anyone else like to make a nomination or vote on the two we have?”
With Julia’s hu
sband on the informal ballot, she quickly earned all the votes as one by one, they all gave her their nods of approval – even Phillip. “Richard would be best for the job. I agree with Julia.”
With that decided so easily and quickly, I had high hopes we’d keep up the pace. “The next item is pretty easy too. Changing the brand of toilet paper in our facility seems to be a concern. There is a new brand here and the price is only three cents more than what we’re currently paying. All who agree, say aye.”
Again, all ayes came from everyone and I was set to make my case for the Iron Cobras’ security. Only I didn’t get the chance to bring up the next item on our agenda as Marcos asked, “Am I reading this right? Is there a question about us taking on more work? And for an MC in Baltimore?” He shook his head. “Who came up with this?”
The wind left my sails. Bit only for a moment. I need this gig. “I received a phone call today from the sergeant at arms, Clyde Thomas, of the Iron Cobras. He informed me that as of right now, there are a handful of members who aren’t prepared to perform security at their various businesses. The job would be for the period of one year while they approve more prospects to be able to take back over the security of their MC.”
Phillip’s stoic expression told me he wasn’t on board with this. “I don’t see how their security, or lack thereof, should be our problem.”
“They will pay for our services,” I let them all know. “Their money is as good as anyone else’s. And they’re not that far away from D.C.”
“Who will you pull off of their current detail to take care of this?” Julia asked with her pen poised over the paper.
As sergeant of arms for our MC, Leslie Ann felt she should have some input into the answer. “Before you answer that, Tequila, I should advise you that we do not have anyone free at this time to do any work outside of the D.C. area. We are booked. I think you know that. So, why is this being brought up?”
“Because Clyde Thomas is a former Marine. And his assistant is former Navy. When our own ask for help, we generally give it.” I knew enough about people like us to know that if they could’ve handled things on their own, then they wouldn’t have asked for help.
The council members exchanged knowing looks. Marcos sighed as he saw the look of determination on my face and knew I wasn’t going down without a fight. It seemed he wanted to get to the tasty meal he’d brought in for us all, much more than he wanted to argue with me. “Can we use some newbies on this?”
“I think so,” I agreed. It’s not like I care who helps Clyde Thomas’ MC out. “If we can get a handful of prospects accepted into The Keepers MC, then put them through three days of intensive security training by our best on the team, I think we’ll be fine. And money is money. I’ll charge the full fee, just as if the people we’re sending them have been working for as long as our current team members have.”
Phillip had one more thing he needed to say before we made a vote, “This won’t look good on our portfolio, Tequila. Right now, it’s got lots of high-ranking politicians on it. Adding an MC won’t make it look as stellar as most of us would like it to look.”
Sandra asked, “I would like to know why these men need our help. Like, what kind of trouble are they getting themselves into that they can’t deal with on their own. We don’t want to get involved with a group of troublemakers. Not if we want to be respected in Washington. You get what I’m saying here?”
I got it all. But mostly I got that a couple of people like us asked for help. “The contract can be written in a way that states if we feel the MC is getting into trouble that is unnecessary and will reflect badly upon us, then we will end the contract at once, making no refunds.” I thought that to be tough but fair. “Let the record show that I want to help this MC out. We don’t know everything about why they would ask for our help. But we do know that we can take this job on and help out some of our fellow former military people. Can we take a vote now?”
The nods told me it was a safe thing to do now. “Aye,” came Marcos’ vote. And the rest followed suit. But then Marcos added, “I think we should hold a meeting with these men before a real offer is made to them. We need to make sure they won’t bring down our reputation before we agree to anything.”
As everyone agreed, I knew I had to do the same. “Okay, I’ll set up a meeting before the end of next week. Thank you. Meeting adjourned.”
Please don’t disgrace me, Iron Cobras!
Chapter Three
Clyde
Although Baltimore and D.C were close in proximity, they were worlds apart in every way imaginable. The capital of our country had the most diverse population in America. I’d been in a few capitals of foreign countries and none came close to comparing to ours.
Even the headquarters of the biker’s club didn’t look like anything I’d ever seen before. “Is that valet parking?” Garrett asked as we pulled up to a sidewalk that ran in front of the white stone building with the name, The Keepers Motorcycle Club, written in red and blue across the top of the double glass doors.
The man who came to us, dressed in tan slacks and a dark blue Polo shirt, shook his head. “No, sir. This is not valet parking. We know how riders value their Harley’s and would never dare to think we could take your keys or drive your bikes. But we do point out the guest garage that you may park in while visiting the headquarters of The Keepers - D.C.’s most respected MC, I might add.”
I could see why their city respected them so much. “What a place. If the GPS address hadn’t brought us right to the front door, I seriously doubt that I would’ve believed this had anything to do with a biker’s club.”
“So, this way?” Garrett asked as he walked his bike in the direction the guy had pointed. “Through that gate?”
“Right through the gate and the entrance will be on your left.” He pulled out a card then handed it to Garrett. “If you’ll punch in this temporary code into the gate’s keypad in front of our guest garage, it will allow you to enter. Not to worry about getting back out. You’ll be given another temporary code when you leave that will set you free. As if you’re ever going to want to leave. This place is like a Shangri-La.”
Following Garrett, I could see the man wasn’t exaggerating a bit. “This should be an interesting meeting.” The gate slid closed behind us, making me feel as if we were somewhat prisoners here in this biker paradise.
Garrett got to the other gate before me, punching in the code he’d been given. “Wow, check this out, Clyde.” He pointed at the small plaque that hung over the keypad. “Place your temporary code card here.” The card he had with the code on it resembled a business card. When a small slit appeared, then sucked in the card without making so much as a sound, we both stared at the box in disbelief. “Wow.”
“Yep.” I didn’t know what else to say to something like that.
The gate opened, now that it had eaten the paper with the code on it. We went in, finding we weren’t the only visitors to The Keepers headquarters that day. More Harley’s and lots of expensive cars took up about half of the one-story parking garage.
Parking our bikes, we made our way to the main building as Garrett looked toward the back. “I think that’s a bar back there. I can smell the beer,” he joked. “Not really. There’s one blue neon sign that tipped me off.”
“Okay, squid.” I stepped in front of a frosted glass door that came open with a soft whooshing sound. A man stood at the door, wearing the same boring ensemble as the man who’d met us up front.
“Twins,” Garrett joked. “Hey, man, do you guys all shop at the Baby Gap?”
“Ha,” the guy laughed as if Garrett’s lame joke was actually funny. “It’s the uniform of the prospects of The Keepers.”
Can you say dickless?
Garrett jabbed me in the ribs as he spoke out of the side of his mouth, “Remind me to thank each and every one on the Iron Cobras’ council for not making us wear shit like that.”
The guy just laughed before asking, “What busines
s do you gentlemen have here?”
“We’ve got a meeting with the council,” I let him know. Running my hands over my black leather jacket, I wondered how our quite appropriate biker attire would be taken here. “Should we have worn business suits?” Not that I had one to wear anyway.
“Some people do dress for their meetings with the council.” He looked me up and down. “And I can’t recall ever having visitors like you two here before. But I’m sure the council knows who you are and expect you to be dressed in such a way.”
“So, point us in the direction we need to get going, buddy,” Garrett said as he looked around at the long hallway with many doors along each side. “This place doesn’t look a thing like a real MC. Is it even a rule that you have to own a bike to be in this club?”
“Yes, it is.” The guy pulled out his phone then showed us a pic of his bike. “This is my baby.”
“A Honda?” Garrett asked with surprise. “You have a fucking baby blue Honda, bro?” He looked at me with a load of skepticism on his bearded face. “I thought you said these guys were badass.”
“They are.” Pulling the kid along with me, I tried not to want to kick his ass. “Sorry, man. We’ll find what we’re looking for.”
“Take the stairs at the next left. It’s on the second level, first door when you get to the top of the stairs. And you don’t need to worry, I’m not insulted. I know we’re an odd bunch of bikers here at The Keepers,” he called out after us. “And you just think you guys are badasses. Wait until you meet our council. Good luck.”
Going up the stairs, I felt a lot better about what the guy had said. “Thank God they’re not all like the children of the corn we’ve met so far. I was beginning to worry about these people we’re asking to help us with security.”
“I know, right?” Garrett shook his head, obviously as perplexed as I was about the prospects the MC had. “But I was just remembering that Mr. Rogers – the guy from the old kid’s television show in the seventies – was a Marine.”