Night Vipers

by Carolina Mac

“Sure, you’re anxious, but it’s no good having backup that can’t back you up. Give her time to train them.” Blaine slipped on his leather overcoat. “Did she get permission from the owner?”

  “Oh, yeah,” said Farrell. “She knows the guy and she took care of all that.”

  “Do you think Annie needs Travis hanging around the ranch like he’s doing?” asked Blaine. “He must be bored out of his mind.”

  “That’s what bodyguards do,” said Farrell. “They stay near the body that they guard. And she’s paying him, ain’t she?”

  “Uh huh. Lil transferred all that over to Powell Corp. I guess if we get jammed up we could borrow him.”

  “Nothing is gonna jam us up.”

  10:00 a.m.

  Old Airstrip near Lyons.

  TRAVIS arrived at the airstrip ahead of Annie and the new guys on their Harleys. He unloaded the bales of straw from his pickup in three different spots on the tarmac—well spaced out. He stacked up the bales in three big piles, then attached the targets the guys would be shooting at.

  While he did the manual labor, Travis thought about his new role as solely Annie’s bodyguard. Easy peasy and he got a lot more sleep than he used to, so why didn’t he like it as much as he thought he was going to? He missed the work and the action at the Agency like he knew he would, but there was something else eating at him and he couldn’t figure it out.

  All set and ready for them, he ambled back to his truck and lit up a smoke. That’s when he heard the rumble. Four Harleys together make a helluva noise.

  They’re still half a mile away.

  A couple minutes later the bikes came into view as they drove past the boarded up terminal onto the tarmac. Annie stopped, shut off the engine on her Softail and set her kickstand. She smiled and he felt the warm sensation her presence always sent through his veins. He needed Annie near him like a fish needs water. Maybe that’s what he was missing—the closeness they used to have before he screwed everything up. He wanted it back.

  She glanced at the targets he had set up. “Good, you’re ready for them, sugar pop.”

  “I’ll move the truck out of the way,” said Travis. “You’ll want them riding in a big circle, coming around to shoot?”

  Annie nodded. “And then reversing, so they have to shoot from their bad side.”

  “Right,” Travis drawled. “I’ll watch from over there.” He pointed towards the one-storey building with the plywood over the windows.

  Annie winked at him and he knew he’d love her forever.

  THE sun shone brightly in a blue Texas sky and warmed the crisp, cool January air. Not much wind to hamper the boys’ accuracy. They’d have enough problems staying upright, drawing their weapons and firing in the split second they had to aim as they whizzed by the targets.

  This will be fun.

  Billy, Cody and Mick sat straddling their bikes giving Annie their full attention as she sat astride her Softail. “I’ll give a demo, once with a handgun and then with a rifle, then it will be your turn. Remember, while y’all are on patrol, neither your gun nor your rifle will be in your hand, so when a situation suddenly comes up, you have to get the gun out of the holster or the sheath in time to make the shot. Once you’re comfortable going one way, we’ll reverse and make it harder.”

  Annie started her turquoise baby and revved it up a little. She took off and looped around like she wanted them to do, pulled her Beretta out of her waist holster at her back, turned and fired at the target. She made another loop while she put the Beretta away with one hand steering, came round again, pulled the Remington out of its holster on the side of the bike, lined it up and took the shot.

  She pulled up and stopped next to Billy.

  “Holy fuck,” said Billy, “this is gonna take some work.”

  Annie giggled. “Once y’all have it down, we’ll try some moving targets.”

  “Jesus in a handcart,” said Cody. “I’m gonna be dreaming about this.”

  “Mickey, go first,” said Annie. “Show them your stuff.”

  Mickey nodded, took a big loop and he was booting it. He pulled the rifle out of the holster on the side of the bike and shot at each of the three targets as he passed and put one in the center of each.

  Billy shook his blond head and blew out a long whistle. “I’m gonna be here for fuckin days, I can see it now. Let me try.” He took off on his Street Rod and on his first pass he’d blown right by all of the targets by the time he got his gun out of his waist holster.

  Cody laughed then said, “I shouldn’t be laughing at him. I know I’ll be worse.”

  10:30 a.m.

  Austin PD.

  FARRELL and Carlos sat in Sergeant Ortiz’s office trying to get the lowdown on the escalating war between the Metalynx and the Draga.

  “Two small clubs and by small I mean under fifty members,” said Ortiz. “Drugs are their bread and butter. They aren’t diversified like the bigger clubs. At least not yet. We’re trying to keep the city under control and it’s a daily battle. Why are you guys interested in these two nothing clubs?”

  “Heard gunfire when I was passing the State Cemetery the other night,” said Farrell. “Just curious what was going on.”

  “Bust them if you want to.” Ortiz smiled. “I won’t object.”

  “Who are the leaders?” asked Farrell. “Got a file on them?”

  “Sure, I’ll make you copies. The leader of the Metalynx is a guy named Sammy Medina and the Draga boss is Don Torres. You guys got manpower to spend on these guys?”

  “I’m putting a night squad together,” said Farrell. “I’m gonna apply pressure at night all over the city and see what shakes out.”

  “Good luck with that. Night time is when they’re out there, that’s for sure.” He printed off what they had on both gangs and handed the paperwork to Farrell. “Haven’t linked them to a cartel, but that don’t mean there’s not a connection. They get drugs from somewhere.”

  Farrell stood up and shook Ortiz’s hand. “Thanks for your help. Want me to copy you on any arrests we make?”

  Ortiz grinned. A sparkling white smile against his swarthy Latino complexion. “Sure do. Then I can cross the little fuckers off my list.”

  11:00 a.m.

  Downtown Austin.

  SPECIAL Agent Roderick pulled up to the curb in front of the church to let Governor Campbell, Jesse and Blaine out of the limo flying the Lone Star flag.

  “Hundreds of people here,” said Jesse. “As soon as Gene catches up we better get Catherine inside.”

  “Yeah,” said Blaine, “and a lot of them are media. Look at the fuckin vans. They are gonna swarm us when we come out of the church.”

  “Never mind out of the church,” said Jesse, “a half dozen are headed for Catherine right now.”

  The Governor’s security team saw the reporters and cameramen approaching and booted it along the sidewalk. They caught up and surrounded her as she walked up the stone steps to the historic old church.

  Blaine held up a hand and backed the media off. “Have some respect people. This is a funeral.”

  Organ music echoed from inside the church as soon as the double doors opened. “Looks crowded, Cat. I’ll try to find you a seat,” said Blaine. He scouted the long aisles as he walked closer and closer to the front of the building. He stopped and motioned Jesse to bring her forward.

  An older couple moved closer together and made room for one more person. “Sit here, Cat. Jesse and I will stand at the back.”

  “Thanks, sweetie.”

  12:00 p.m.

  Old Airstrip near Lyons.

  FARRELL and Carlos drove out to the airstrip to see what kind of progress the boys were making. When they arrived, Cody was making a big loop. “Not enough speed,” Farrell mumbled to himself.

  As Cody approached the first target he reached behind him for his gun, turned the bars a little too much, and as he turned his body the bike dumped.

  Annie ran towards him with Mickey and Travis right behi
nd her. Travis grabbed hold of the big Harley and lifted it off Cody’s leg. Mickey jerked Cody to his feet none too gently. “You okay?” asked Annie.

  “I feel like an idiot,” said Cody, “and I’m gonna have a bruise on my leg, but yeah… I’m okay.”

  Annie smiled. “You were doing okay before that run. Take a step back. Go around five times. Every time you come around, just concentrate on getting the gun out smoothly. You’re not going to look at the targets or shoot. Just the motion of getting the gun out quickly and smoothly when you approach the targets. Understand?”

  “Yep,” said Cody. “I’ll do it. I want to get the feel of it right now.”

  “How’s your practice going?” Farrell asked Billy.

  “Okay, but it’s gonna take a while before I’m confident. A whole new set of stuff to think about while you’re shooting—like not dumping the bike and looking where the hell you’re going, keeping even pressure on the gas, and all at the same time.”

  Farrell chuckled. “A new skill, but you’re up for it, man.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Billy grinned. “I want this bad. I want to be good at it like Mick. Jesus, he’s a fantastic rider.”

  “He is,” said Farrell. “That’s why I want him on the team. He has skills that go above and beyond.”

  1:00 p.m.

  Bryker Woods. Austin.

  THE reception after Congressman Flaherty’s funeral was being held at his daughter’s house in Bryker Woods. Only the immediate family were invited along with colleagues and dignitaries who couldn’t be left out. Luckily, the Governor was one of those who couldn’t be snubbed and that allowed Blaine and Jesse to slide in as her escorts.

  The second Mrs. Flaherty was on hand in the foyer to greet the guests and receive condolences. Beside her stood a pretty girl who might have been close to the same age—the Congressman’s daughter. Both were slim blondes, and both wore black designer suits. They looked remarkably similar and Jesse thought he might have trouble keeping them straight.

  “So lovely of you to come, Governor Campbell,” said Mrs. Flaherty giving her hand to Catherine. “Dan always spoke so highly of you.”

  “Thank you,” said Catherine. “He’ll be sorely missed at the Capitol.”

  “Let’s get a coffee and see if we have an opportunity to talk to the son or daughter a little later,” said Jesse.

  Blaine led the way into the dining room where the buffet was set up. He headed straight to the ornate sideboard under the window where the coffee service was located and poured two cups.

  Jesse moved in closer and kept an eye on the circulating crowd while he added cream to his coffee. “Any idea which one is the son?”

  “Maybe. I think I saw him at the front of the church in the family pew,” said Blaine, “and I might be able to point him out.”

  “Do you see anybody who doesn’t look like they belong?” asked Jesse.

  “Not yet,” said Blaine. “Remind me I want to ask Mrs. Flaherty what her husband collected. I wasn’t able to get her on the phone.”

  “Sue didn’t come across anything?” asked Jesse.

  “Not that I heard. She would have called me.”

  Blaine was pouring cream into his third coffee when a young man crossed the dining room and introduced himself. “I’m Colin Flaherty, Ranger Blackmore. Have you made any progress finding out who killed my father?”

  “Not really,” said Blaine, “but we’ve barely begun the investigation. I was going to ask Mrs. Flaherty this question, but you might know. Did your father have a collection of something valuable? The crime scene people didn’t find anything like that.”

  “Why did you think that?”

  “Just a remark someone made,” said Blaine. “Nothing specific, that’s why I’m having difficulty thinking this is a robbery. If I knew something valuable was missing, I’d have a lot better chance of tracking down the murderer.”

  “Uh huh. I see that,” said Colin. “That would narrow down the suspects.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Let’s go into the study at the back of the house,” said Colin. He nodded at Jesse to follow. The room was small and cozy with a burgundy leather sofa, a cherry desk and matching credenza. Bookcases filled the wall between two floor to ceiling windows.

  “Have a seat.” Colin leaned against the desk. “The only thing in the valuable category that my father possessed was an ancient chess set that belonged to one of the Czars.”

  “Was there documented provenance with it?” asked Blaine.

  “I believe so, but I never paid much attention.”

  “How long had your father owned it?”

  “Not too long. He got it last year on a trip to Europe with Isabel.”

  “And did he have a safe place to keep it?” asked Jesse.

  “The condo had an up to date security system,” said Colin, “and Daddy kept the set in a box in the safe in the master bedroom.”

  “Where is the safe located?” asked Jesse. “Behind a painting or somewhere harder to find?”

  “He only showed it to me once when he had it installed. It’s in the dressing room in the floor.”

  “Do you know the combination?”

  “I don’t, but Isabel would have it written down somewhere.”

  “If we could check and see if the chess set was secure, we could rule robbery out as a motive,” said Blaine. “Would you speak to her at your first opportunity?”

  “I will.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Thursday, January 12th.

  11:00 p.m.

  The Blackmore Agency. Austin.

  Night Shift.

  THE crew of the Night Vipers checked in at eleven, ready for their first night of patrol as a team.

  Carm had a fresh pot of coffee ready for them as they sat around the kitchen table listening to Farrell. “This is a practice run and we might not see or hear anything that needs our attention.” He held up a hand. “If… something is going down and Annie, Mick, Carlos or I fire while we’re in motion, that does not give you the right to touch your weapons. You two are not ready and I don’t want any accidents or team members being wounded by friendly fire.”

  Billy nodded. “I’m not ready. I recognize that.”

  Cody nodded in agreement.

  “The only time you’ll draw your weapon is if we are off the bikes and on foot,” said Farrell. “Understood?”

  “Copy that, boss,” said Billy.

  “Anything you want to add, Annie?” asked Farrell.

  “Nothin specific. Our patrols this week are mostly to get a feel for the city at night and familiarize ourselves with the areas where there could be problems. The better you know the city, the more effective you’ll be.”

  11:30 p.m.

  FARRELL led the way from the Agency in a north-easterly direction figuring he’d start by circling the cemetery where he’d seen the activity on a previous night.

  The gate was closed and locked and the graveyard was in darkness, the only light in the area was coming from the streetlights around the perimeter. No movement inside the cemetery as far as Farrell could see.

  He headed for the Draga clubhouse a couple of blocks south and as they approached the cinderblock building at the end of the one-way street he could see a lot of activity. A bunch of gangers with torches were moving in and circling the home of the Draga gang.

  The sound of glass breaking followed by a lot of hollering and yelling pierced the night as Farrell dismounted, set his kickstand and pulled out his shotgun. One torch had been tossed in the broken window. “Get away from there, y’all,” Farrell yelled. “Down on your knees and put your hands on your heads.”

  “I’m calling the fire department,” said Carlos as a torch came flying at them. Carlos ducked and it landed in the road.

  Mick, Cody and Billy parked their rides and they were ready to give chase. “Grab anybody you can and cuff them,” hollered Farrell.

  The gangers on the outside—probably the Metalynx—chucked their
torches at them and booked it with Billy, Cody and Mick chasing them. The Draga trapped on the inside with the threat of burning to death, came blasting out the only door laying down a spray of auto fire.

  Farrell let go with two quick shotgun blasts and knocked the shooters to the ground. Annie covered him as he ran forward and kicked the Blackouts away from the gangers. The two of them rolled on the ground, screaming and bleeding and clutching at their legs full of pellets.

  Standing back a little so the smoke pouring out the open door didn’t hit him in the face, Farrell hollered, “This is the police. Lay down your weapons and come on out of there. We’ve got the Metalynx rounded up and the fire department is on its way.”

  To Carlos: “The inside is on fire. We’ve got to get them out. Call for an ambulance and a bus. We can’t transport them on the bikes.” Carlos stepped away from the building and called.

  Mick came back dragging a kid in cuffs he’d caught down the block.

  Annie went round behind the building and helped Billy and Cody with the two punks they’d caught. The young gangers were struggling to get away, kicking and yelling curses at the top of their lungs.

  “Set them on the sidewalk out front until the bus gets here to pick them up.” She pulled out her Beretta. “I’ll watch them. Farrell needs help getting the rest of them out of the building.”

  Sirens wailed in the distance but quickly came closer. The ambulance was first and using Maglites, the paramedics attended to the two shooters Farrell had wounded. They strapped the punks to gurneys and by the time they were ready to transport to the hospital, two squads of uniforms were on the scene.

  “Make sure those little mutts are secured,” said Farrell. “They’re both under arrest for attempted murder of a police officer. Have the hospital send them to our infirmary as soon as they can be moved.”

  “Copy that, Ranger Donovan.”

  Smoke billowed out of the broken window and the resident gang members staggered out the front door. Farrell waved an arm to the ranger who’d arrived with the bus. “Take all these guys to booking and do a thorough search. Bet they’re all loaded down with product trying to save it from the fire.”