Landing Eagle

by Harley Stone

  “This is about more than Naomi’s safety, Eagle. Morse pulled images of the homeless guy who’s been watching Emily. It’s him. It’s Brass. Fuckin’ brass balls and lead brain if you ask me. After all I did for him, he’s been waiting for the right time to strike. I’ve had Emily covered, so he took Naomi. Goddamn ironic how my sister finally comes home to safety and immediately gets swept up into my bullshit. I can’t sit on my fuckin’ hands while you clean up my mess.”

  “You can’t go after Brass. You have to protect the club,” I reminded him. The Dead Presidents always stayed on the right side of the law. It wasn’t in our bylaws or anything, just an unwritten rule everyone followed. But, if word got out that a motorcycle club full of military vets was dishing out vigilante justice, every ounce of good the club had done would be put under a microscope. Havoc’s case would be questioned. All of the programs Link had put into place to help vets and the community would be picked apart. We’d lose credibility and any time a law was broken the cops would come sniffing at our door to make sure we weren’t the ones responsible.

  “Pops ran this club for twenty-five years. I’ve had it for two. In that time, we’ve done nothing but help people… vets, the community, whoever needed help. Now this city that we’ve busted our ass to help thinks we’re soft. Thinks we’re a bunch of washed-up do-gooders who can’t even protect their own. First, they kidnapped Emily’s grandma. Then they fucked with Havoc and went after Julia. Now…” He shook his head. “Naomi wasn’t even a block away when Brass nabbed her. You think I can let that shit slide?”

  “But the club—”

  “What good is a fuckin’ club if we can’t even protect the ones we love?” he asked. “Pops and I have fought to keep us legit, but at what cost? Who are these motherfuckers gonna come for next? Your kid? Wasp’s? Mine? Fuck that. We’re not gonna hide away our families out of fear. We need to remind these fuckers who we are and the lengths we’ll go to in order to protect what’s ours. Up to this point, every time someone’s brought trouble to our doorstep, we’ve let the law take care of it. But these bastards aren’t afraid of the law, and they keep coming. We need to give them something to fear so they’ll think twice before they fuck with us again.”

  “Are you sure you want to go down this road?” I asked. Link had made some damn good points and I was on board, but this was a one-way street and there’d be no coming back.

  “I don’t see where we have a choice. Either we show these motherfuckers who they’re dealing with, or we bend over, grab our ankles, and spell run. I’m not taking it up the ass, Eagle. Not now, not ever.”

  When Link had recruited me, he’d been this fired up and passionate about the cause. Over the past two years, he’d done a great job growing the club and furthering the cause, but a little of that fire had been extinguished. It was nice to see it back in his eyes. This man—committed to justice, freedom, and protection—was the president I promised to follow when he patched me in. This was the Link Naomi and our kid needed right now. I only hoped this shitstorm didn’t splatter all over the face of the club. “I’m in, brother. What’s the plan?” I asked.

  Havoc pushed his way into the office. “If you two are finished applying the war paint and getting all fired up, you’re needed in the chapel.”

  “Did they find Naomi?” I asked.

  “No. The club met and voted. It’s unanimous. We’re in, Prez. Nobody fucks with our women and gets away with it.”

  “You called church?” I asked, frowning as I fumbled with my phone to check my messages. “I didn’t get a notification.

  “You weren’t invited.” Link stood. “We’re still a democracy and a decision this big had to be put to the vote without me, you, or Pops in the room to sway votes or point the finger at anyone who voted against taking out these bastards. Now that it’s settled, let’s get in there and figure out how we’re gonna end this threat to our club.”

  Naomi

  BRASS AND JOE left me in the dark again, locking the door behind them. The room still smelled like vomit, and I made it a point to stay away from the puddle I’d left. Didn’t matter, because with no ventilation, the overpowering stench still churned my stomach and made my situation seem even more hopeless. Unable to admit defeat, I stared at the splinter of light surrounding the door and considered my options. I could step between my arms again and sever the zip ties now that I had more time.

  But then what?

  That was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. The door was locked, and the knob was smooth. Nothing to even pick at. No windows. No other doors. No way out. And if Joe caught me out of my zip ties…

  A shudder went up my spine as I remembered Joe’s hate-filled gaze, and the sting of his hand across my face. He wanted to hurt me. I could tell by the way he looked at me like I was a bug he needed to squash. When Joe looked at me, I saw my death in his eyes. Every instinct I possessed told me to shrink back and make myself seem small and insignificant, not even worth his time and energy. I needed to mind my p’s and q’s if I had any hope of getting out of here in one piece.

  Thinking about Joe was giving me serious anxiety, so I let my mind drift to Eagle instead, and wondered what he was doing. By now, Eagle had to know what had happened to me. He’d been so worried about me dying in combat, I couldn’t help but wonder what he thought about me getting taken from right in front of the fire station. He had to be so pissed. Was he out there looking for me? I knew he had the money, so would he pay my ransom?

  Eagle might not want a relationship with me or the baby, but there’s no way in hell he’d let us be in danger. He’d find a way to get to us.

  And if Eagle didn’t, Link would.

  Giving Eagle time to process everything I’d told him so he could make a decision had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I regretted not sticking around and talking it out with him. Storming out of his room like a starving prima donna with a bladder problem hadn’t been my best moment. Now, I had no idea where we stood, and that was kind of killing me. If I got out of this alive, I planned to pin Eagle down and make him tell me what he wanted.

  When I got out of this alive.

  My head was spinning.

  Everything felt fuzzy and uncertain.

  Except for the ache in my chest when I thought about Eagle. The truth was, I missed him. And if I was being honest with myself, I’d missed him since that first night we played pool and talked and flirted before I snuck into his room and enjoyed the best sex of my life. I missed the man who saw through my lies and made me tell him about being ambushed. I missed the fierce desire to protect me I saw in his eyes when he told me not to go back.

  I didn’t know if Eagle loved me, but I knew he cared and wanted me safe. We could build on that. Hell, regardless of what he wanted, the instant I saw him I planned to jump into his arms and pepper his face with kisses like the heroine of one of those old books in his drawer.

  Did any of the heroines in those old books do that? I really should read more classics. Maybe Eagle would read them to me and our kid.

  My brain felt like it was floating in Jell-O.

  Lying down in the corner and passing out seemed like a great idea, but I was at least seventy-five percent sure I had a concussion, so I didn’t. My stomach kept cramping, but I was trying not to notice the pain. In one of the pregnancy books I’d been reading, they listed cramps as one of the signs of a miscarriage. Cramps, bleeding, nausea, lower back pain. I was experiencing at least three of those four, and as I thought about it a strangled sob ripped from my throat and fear spiked my heart rate. If I lost the baby…

  No! I can’t think that way.

  Besides, I hadn’t eaten all day and I’d thrown that up long ago. Nausea was a sign of pregnancy, too, and the cramps were probably just hunger pains. The baby had to be all right. I had to be all right. I just needed to chill the fuck out, stop worrying, and hold on until Eagle and or Link found us. Then I’d go get checked out by a doctor and be reassured that everything was fi
ne.

  After all, I was carrying the baby of a Marine and CSAR pilot. Our child would be a hell of a lot tougher than whatever they’d put in that syringe.

  Taking a deep, calming breath, I reverted to my training. Knowing I needed to mentally and physically prepare for whatever the next few hours would bring, I jogged in place to warm up. After I’d burned off enough nervous energy to clear my mind and focus on strengthening my body, I busted out reps of squats and lunges. Normally I would have done sit-ups, planks, and push-ups as well, but I couldn’t exactly do those exercises with my hands behind my back. No way was I going to get caught with my hands in front of me when Joe and Brass returned. One concussion was plenty.

  Once my glutes, hamstrings, and quads were burning, I broke into stretches and limbered up. My mind kept trying to wander as worry churned at my gut, but I focused on breathing. After a while, I was exhausted, starving, and sore, so I sat down, propping myself up in the corner. At some point, I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, Joe was squeezing the shit out of my arm and yanking me to my feet. I’d lost feeling in my hands, so I fisted then released my fingers a few times, trying to get it back as I tucked my feet under me and stood on shaky legs.

  Joe fisted my shirt in one hand and pulled me against him so our faces were inches apart. The stench coming from his mouth was horrible, like a bean burrito wrapped in cigarette butts had crawled into someone’s ass and died. Holding my breath, I tried not to gag and demurely dropped my gaze from his hate-filled eyes. To protect myself and my child, I played subservient and let him think he’d demoralized and beaten me.

  “Your old man, your brother, and the rest of the Dead Presidents think they’re real hot shit. Bunch of prissy little pussies. Actin’ like they’re so good their shit don’t stink. Like they don’t wipe their asses on the scum of this city, same as everyone else. Think they’re too good for the likes of my family and our club. But in my club, we know how to keep our bitches… in our beds, in our kitchens, and at our feet where they belong. Brass here tells me you’re some kind of hotshot Air Force pilot.”

  He paused, and I got the feeling he was waiting for me to respond. But since I had nothing to say that wouldn’t piss him off even more, I kept my mouth shut.

  Joe hauled back and punched me in the stomach with his free hand. Pain radiated from the impact, making my eyes water and my entire body want to curl up on itself. Fear for my child immobilized me for a split second before it burned away with anger.

  The motherfucker had punched me in the stomach.

  I opened my mouth to tell him what a mistake he’d made, but immediately shut it again. I did not know if my baby was okay. I did not know if I was going to live through this exchange. A strange calm consumed me as I realized the one thing I did know.

  I was going to kill this asshole.

  I would not provoke him. I would not give him a reason to hit me again.

  But I would kill him.

  Even if I had to hunt him to the ends of the earth.

  “Got your attention now, don’t I, bitch?”

  Oh, yes, he did. And if he hurt my baby, not only would I kill him, but I’d find a way to bring him back from the dead so I could kill him again. It was my duty to my country, to myself, and to my unborn child to wipe this asshole off the face of the earth. He would never do this to another woman. I’d rise up from any bed, any kitchen, any feet he tried to shove me under and slit his fucking throat.

  “Not such a big, bad pilot bitch now, are you?” Joe asked with a sneer. “They teach you how to take a beating in the service?”

  He landed another punch, this one to my side. Gritting my teeth, I fed the pain to my anger, forcing it to make me stronger and more determined to survive so I could get revenge.

  “Come on, Joe,” Brass said, sounding strained. Probably reliving his own beating from the asshole. “Let’s go call Link and get this shit over with.”

  “Nah, man, I’m just getting warmed up.”

  There was another big, scary-looking guy standing beside Brass, who said, “Come on, Joe. This place is boring as fuck. We got pussy and beer waiting for us back at the clubhouse. Let’s set up the exchange so we can take your dad his money and go blow our cut.”

  Joe glared at me for a beat longer, and then shoved me in front of him. The shift in balance almost made me face plant, but I shuffled my feet and turned so I bounced off the wall instead. Joe snickered and roughly grabbed me again, steering me toward the door.

  I continued to play meek and demure, biding my time and waiting for an opening, promising myself that when I got the chance, Joe would pay.

  Eagle

  WHEN BRASS CALLED to set up the exchange, we were back in Link’s office with the team he’d selected for the op. Link put his cell phone on speaker and set it in the center of his desk, and Havoc, Tap, Spade, Stocks, and I all crowded around, waiting for the details. Tap fidgeted with some sort of device connected to Link’s phone and typed on his laptop.

  “You know the concrete bench between Pier sixty-two and sixty-three? The one that faces the water?” Brass asked.

  Link looked to me, and I nodded. Pier sixty-two and sixty-three were located in the South Park District, which was just south of the Industrial District, where I worked. South Park was a shitty neighborhood, but the bench Brass mentioned had a nice view of the Duwamish Waterway and the Georgetown District beyond. If you didn’t mind being accosted by homeless people or watching the occasional drug deal go down in your peripheral, it was a decent spot to stop for lunch. I took extra sandwiches and went down there occasionally.

  “Yeah, I know of the spot,” Link replied.

  “Meet me there at eleven. Bring the cash and come alone.”

  “Let me talk to my sister.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Brass fired back.

  “You want a hundred-k? I need to know she’s alive.”

  “What, you don’t trust me, Link?”

  Link was bottled rage, barely keeping it together. Every vein throbbed in his neck. “You’ve always been a junkie. I was hoping there was more to you, but I was wrong.”

  Brass chuckled. “Still think you can save everyone, huh? Stop wasting your breath on me and save your preaching for someone who gives a fuck.”

  There was some rustling of the phone, and then Naomi’s voice came over the line. “Link?”

  A collective sigh of relief floated around the table. We’d all been holding our breath, waiting to hear her. Knowing she was alive and able to talk filled me with so much emotion I could barely stand beneath the weight of it. Leaning against the table, I drew closer to Link’s phone.

  “Yeah, I’m here. You okay?” Link asked.

  “I’ve had better days.” Her voice sounded shaky. Scared. Angry. It put every protective instinct within me on high alert. “Is Eagle there with you?”

  She was in trouble and she needed me, not her brother. If Link still had any doubts that this thing between me and Naomi was real, I could tell that she’d stomped them out with that one question by the way his gaze cut to me. He was waiting for my reaction. The entire table was, but I didn’t give a fuck about them. I needed to reassure her. I wanted to tell her that I needed her and the baby in my life. To beg her to survive this and build a family with me. There was no time for all that now, but I couldn’t leave her hanging. I had to say something to let her know I was all in and that I’d make sure she was safe.

  “I’m here, sweetheart. In it for the long haul. We’re gonna get you home safe, so we can continue that conversation we started.”

  “I’d like that.” Her voice was thick with emotion.

  Link was still watching me. “We’re setting up the exchange. We’ll get you out of there, Squirt.”

  The phone rustled again, and then Brass came back over the line. “See, she’s fine. Do we have a deal?”

  “I’m not meeting you alone, Brass,” Link said.

  “I have Naomi. I’m calling
the shots now, Prez.”

  “I don’t trust you, you son-of-a-bitch. Naomi’s only worth a hundred-k if I can get her away from you alive. If I go in alone, there are no promises you’ll let me walk out of there with her. I know you have at least two motherfuckers with you. If you want this money, I’m bringing two men with me to cover my ass and make sure you don’t double-cross me.”

  The line went dead. We all looked to Tap, but he shook his head. Brass hadn’t hung up. He’d probably just muted the call, so he could discuss Link’s counter-offer. I held my breath, waiting for Brass’s response. Finally, the phone clicked again.

  “One,” someone else countered. I didn’t recognize the voice. “Or I’ll blow her head off right now and find someone else to use as leverage. Maybe that pretty little lawyer bitch of yours.”

  “Who is this?” Link asked, straightening.

  The speaker laughed. “I think we leave that little surprise for later. Do we have a deal? Or do I get to have more fun with your sister?”

  In the background, Naomi cried out in pain.

  “I bet she can take a lot before she breaks, but I’m up to the challenge.”

  Link’s jaw ticked.

  Everyone around the table tensed.

  I saw red. I opened my mouth, but Havoc put a hand on my shoulder, reminding me that I couldn’t react. This asshole was looking for a reaction. My words would never be enough, so I’d have to wait and give it to him in person.

  “We have a deal,” Link ground out.

  “Good.” Brass was back on the line. “Link, I know you don’t trust me, but don’t fuck with these guys. If you screw this up, they won’t just kill Naomi. They’ll make her beg for death.”

  The line clicked off.

  “Fuck!” Link shouted, turning and punching the wall behind him. Plaster fell away, leaving a big-ass hole.

  I understood his frustration, but I had no intention of wasting my anger and energy on plaster. I was bottling that shit up to unleash on these bastards.