Sinners & Scarecrows

by David Carter

  “So how do you intend on making amends?”

  Watson perked up a little. “There’s a delivery on for tonight. I figure a huge drug bust is as good as anything to get Blaze and the MC off the streets after recent events.”

  The commissioner’s face lit up. “Are you absolutely certain?”

  “Yes, one hundred percent. The SAS are making a run from Smuggler’s Point to one of Mr Lombardi’s warehouses in the western suburbs. I would advise setting up an ambush in advance.”

  “Your intel had better be flawless this time,” he replied sternly. “I can’t afford another screw up.”

  “It is,” Watson said emphatically. “It’ll only require a small team against eight unsuspecting bikers.”

  “Seven,” the commissioner corrected her.

  “Seven?”

  The commissioner couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. “My big news,” he explained. “Blaze is turning himself in; we’ve got him on two counts of murder.”

  “I don’t understand,” Watson replied, pleasantly surprised.

  “I will fill you in on the details later. Right now, you have an ambush to execute. I want the remainder of the MC in custody by sunrise.”

  “It will be done, sir. Without Blaze in charge it should be a formality.”

  “Good. And to be sure, I want you to lead the operation tonight. I will oversee your command from ground zero.”

  Watson swallowed a mouthful of saliva. The sound of multiple explosions from inside the airbase hangar played over for what seemed the millionth time in Watson’s mind. “Thank you, sir,” Watson said.

  Watson turned to leave.

  “Just a moment,” said the commissioner.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “I’m sorry I unleashed my frustration out on you on the phone earlier this morning. What happened in Worthington wasn’t entirely your fault.”

  “Thank you, sir, I appreciate that.”

  “And I haven’t forgot the sacrifices you’ve made for this assignment. Not everyone could simply give up their lives like you have. I’m truly honoured to be your commander.”

  Watson thanked him again and left his office with a fresh burst of confidence. I’ve been given a second chance. Now don’t fucking blow it.

  Chapter 44

  Zoe was outraged when Blaze told her he was turning himself in. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” she shouted. “I just got you back and you’re handing yourself over to the pigs for something you didn’t fucking do! That’s not the Blaze I fell in love with! The Blaze I know would tell them all to go fuck themselves, then start shooting the place up!”

  He tried to calm her down. “Baby, I have to. They are coming for me anyway. I’d rather go quietly than get shot on the run. Trust me, it’s for the best. Detective Ryan has my back on this.”

  She eventually calmed down, and hugged him tight. “I can’t bear the thought of losing you,” she whimpered.

  “Look, I’ll be out by tonight. But there’s a chance I’ll miss the run with the boys. You can go in my place, instead.”

  Stunned, she replied, “Are you sure? You’ve never let me go on a muling run…”

  “We need all our wheels on the ground tonight. Which means I need someone to take my place. And who better to do that than the person I love the most?”

  “I don’t think I can.” She looked away.

  “Why not? You’re a kick ass rider.”

  “Only when you’re with me.”

  “Oh, come on; don’t play the mushy woman card with me.”

  “It’s true. I feel bulletproof when you’re around.”

  “All right,” he gave in. “Soppy movies and a tub of ice cream for you it is, then.” He feigned a smiled. I hope that’s the real reason you won’t do it.

  “I’ll be waiting for you.” She kissed him, and whispered in his ear, “Then you can tie me up and do anything you want with me when you get home.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and groped her soft butt-cheeks with his rugged hands. “I’ll make sure they let me keep the handcuffs then,” he whispered. His breathing intensified as they tongued each other hard.

  Zoe prised herself away from Blaze’s lips. “When is all the madness going to end?” she asked.

  “When the right people are dead,” he said firmly.” I just hope you’re not one of them, he thought.

  He kissed her goodbye. He’d already informed the SAS of his decision to turn himself in. And despite their protests, Spider was in charge until further notice.

  Blaze had one stop to make before his date with Ryan at the police station. He pulled up to the Marble Lane Cafe and parked his bike on the kerb.

  Archer was waiting for him inside, sipping at a latte and reading the financial times. “Thanks for meeting with me,” Blaze said as he sat down opposite Archer in a booth hidden away in the back corner.

  “Why the urgent meeting? I’ve got enough problems to deal with today,” Archer said curtly, and put down his newspaper.

  “I know what’s going on,” Blaze hinted.

  “Know what, exactly?”

  “That you still don’t trust me, Tonight’s run is a trap. I can fucking feel it,” he replied.

  Archer’s look of surprise confirmed Blaze’s suspicions.

  Archer took off his glasses and polished the lenses as he said, “Once again I find myself underestimating you, Blaze. I’ll admit you are correct in your assumption.”

  “So why do you continue to distrust the MC? All we want is for all this shit to blow over, so we can start making some serious cash.”

  “Because I can see through your deceit,” Archer smirked.

  “What deceit?” Blaze replied innocently.

  Archer answered by scrolling through his phone. After finding what he was looking for, he handed it to Blaze. On the screen was a picture of a man lying on a table. His face resembled a mashed-up pepperoni pizza; the skin from his body had been completely removed. “Fuck me,” Blaze said, shocked at the grotesque image. “Why are you showing me this?”

  “This is one of Tyrone Sanchez’s guards who fell asleep while on duty when we were away in Worthington.”

  “And your point being..?”

  Archer sipped his latte. “A man who wasn’t welcome at Smuggler’s Point was caught snooping around the docks. Fortunately, the guard awoke and caught him. But then he foolishly released him after he fast-talked his way out of trouble.”

  “Who was it?”

  “You already know the answer.”

  Blaze said nothing.

  Archer kept his eyes pinned on Blaze, taunting him as he slowly took another sip of his latte. He thought he saw the slightest hint of guilt in his face. “All right; it was an acquaintance of yours: Detective Cameron Ryan,” Archer said at last.

  “What’s that got to do with me?” Blaze asked.

  “Do the maths, Blaze. Your dead biker friend was found buried on the side of the Brighton Highway along with nine girls. Detective Ryan is called in on the case, which makes sense because he has previous ties with you, and you have ties to the MC and myself. Then all of a sudden, he is snooping around Tyrone Sanchez’s docks? Does that not strike you as a remarkable coincidence?”

  “Look, he’s a smart motherfucker, all right? I have no doubt he figured that out by himself. I had nothing to do with it,” he lied.

  Archer finished the last of his latte. “I think you’re hiding something,” he accused him as he put down his mug.

  “Why would I incriminate myself? I have just as much to lose as you do if we’re caught.”

  “Maybe you’re undercover...”

  “You still think I’m the fucking rat?”

  “It’s a possibility.”

  “You’re letting that freak show, Sanchez, get inside your head!” he hissed. “I’m not the fucking rat. And I’ve cleared all the members of the MC.” He paused. “But seeing as we’re on the topic, I do have a lead.”

  “Yes?” Archer raised an eye
brow.

  “It could be someone close to one of the members.”

  “As in…?”

  Blaze sighed. “I could be one of the girls.”

  Archer was dumbfounded. “How can you be sure?”

  “Let’s just say I ground the truth out from the one of the members that I had suspicions about. But he came up squeaky clean, which throws suspicion on the three other people who accompanied us to Summit Lake.”

  “Sorry, I don’t follow.”

  “Never mind. I’ll have a better picture of things after tonight’s run,” he hesitated, “but that’s only if I get out of jail in time, because I’m turning myself in to the pigs.”

  “You’re doing what!” Archer nearly choked.

  “Look, somehow I’ve been tied up in some massive misunderstanding. I was just informed that I’m the number one suspect in a double homicide case. But I had nothing to do with it. So I’m going to give my statement and clear my name.”

  “And why would you do that?”

  “Because I currently have a clean record. And I’d like it to stay that way. The only reason I’m even working for you is because you threatened Zoe’s life. But as there’s a possibility the she’s the biggest fucking traitor I’ve ever known, that could all be about to change. And I’d like to go about life without a target pinned to my fucking head.”

  Archer took his words under consideration. “Who were the victims?” he asked curiously.

  “Nobody you would know. But I do need a favour from you.”

  Archer looked at him sternly. “What makes you think I’d do you any favours at this point? Especially if you’re planning on leaving.”

  “Because I’ve told you the truth. And because you have my word that the MC will find the rat. You just need to trust me for fucking change.”

  Archer thought it over for a moment. “All right, I trust you. What is it you require from me?”

  “I need money to make bail; and shit loads of it.”

  “What’s wrong with your money?”

  “I could scrape enough together if I had a few days to drain most of my overseas accounts, but time is a luxury I just don’t have right now.”

  “Then consider it done,” said Archer, then dialled a number on his phone.

  “Who are you calling?” Blaze asked.

  Archer waved his index finger as the phone rang in his ear, motioning for Blaze to be quiet.

  “Tyrone,” Archer said when Sanchez picked up, “you can call off your brute squad for the ambush tonight. I have another job for you which I’ll explain later in greater detail.” He hung up the phone.

  “Thank you,” said Blaze.

  “Tell me, Blaze, how are you going to find out if it’s one of the girls working against you?”

  Blaze quietly replied, “I found a listening device in our meeting room at the clubhouse, and used it to my advantage. If we are ambushed on the west-side tonight, I’ll know for sure who the traitor is.”

  Archer smirked. “You sly dog. You’re a step ahead of the game. Now you’re really using your top two inches.”

  “What do you fucking expect?” Blaze grinned. “I learned from the best.”

  Chapter 45

  Blaze sat quietly on the bench seat in the corner of the crowded cell, along with at least a dozen men arrested on various charges in Brighton’s police headquarters. Blaze could barely stand the vile stench in the room. The pungent concoction of body odour and human waste from the single toilet in the cell made the clubhouse smell like roses. The guy sitting next to Blaze, asked him, “So, what are you in for?”

  Blaze didn’t answer him.

  “Hey, I’m talking to you.”

  Blaze still offered no reply.

  “Tough guy, eh? I ought to teach you some fucking manners.”

  Blaze finally answered him. He casually said, “Double homicide. Butchered an elderly couple for the fun of it.”

  “Fucking asshole,” the man said angrily. He grabbed Blaze by the scruff of the neck and tossed him off the bench to the floor.

  The men in the cell instantly jumped up and circled them. Blaze got up and steadied himself. “I’ll give you one chance to sit back down,” Blaze threatened him.

  “Ha! Like I’m scared of a little bitch like you,” the man scoffed. He stepped towards Blaze.

  Blaze wasted no time. He launched himself at the man. He tackled him around his waist and drove him backwards through the circle of men and into the cinder block wall behind them.

  THUD!

  The crowd of cheering men heard a rush of wind spew from his mouth.

  Blaze landed a rapid combo of punches to the man’s face, then stood back, grinning, and said, “You had enough, princess?”

  The man shook himself off and marched forward. Blaze saw the menacing look in his eyes as he approached.

  The man swung wildly. Blaze ducked and dodged until finally the man connected a beauty to the side of Blaze’s face. Blaze was dazed momentarily. He composed himself enough to block the next round of punches, then suddenly dropped to his knees, and savagely landed two sharp blows to the man’s nut sac; it was one of his favourite ways to subdue an aggressor.

  The man dropped to the floor, holding himself between the legs, groaning in immense pain.

  Then the angry beast within Blaze got ready to stomp on the man’s head, but just as he was about to do so, a voice inside managed to restrain him. Don’t get yourself in any deeper shit than you’re already in, it said.

  Everyone went silent as a police officer approached and unlocked the cell door. “What’s going on here?” he asked Blaze.

  “He shot his mouth off and couldn’t back it up,” Blaze replied casually.

  “I see,” said the officer. He didn’t seem to care. “Which one of you scumbags is Bobby Blaise?”

  “That would be me,” Blaze replied.

  “Your bail has been posted, you’re free to go.”

  “Farewell, princess.” Blaze smirked at the man he’d pummelled as he walked out of the cell. The man remained on the floor, hunched in the foetal position.

  Ryan and Sandra were waiting for Blaze outside. “You all right?” Ryan asked him, noticing the fresh swelling on his cheek.

  Blaze nodded. “I see you’re a man of your word. You got me outta this shithole as promised.”

  “And it took some bloody doing,” Ryan replied. “I’ve damn near used up any favours I’m owed.”

  Sandra stared at Blaze. She looked unimpressed.

  “What’s her problem?” Blaze asked Ryan.

  “Blaze, this is Sandra Gibson, my partner. Sandra, I’d like you to meet Blaze.”

  “If it were up to me I’d lock you up and throw away the key!” she said fiercely.

  “She seems nice.” Blaze grinned, amused by her temperament.

  It was starting to get dark. “You need to keep your nose clean and stay in Brighton,” Ryan warned Blaze. “If you break your bail conditions, I can’t help you. Do you think you can manage something as simple as that?”

  You’re dreaming if you think I’m staying in Brighton, he thought.

  Blaze mounted his Harley, and said, “Thanks, man, I won’t forget this.” He kickstarted his bike and roared off into the night.

  “I can’t believe you let him go,” Sandra said. “He looks like trouble.”

  “Looks can be deceiving,” he replied.

  They walked around the block to where Ryan’s Mitsubishi was parked. Before he’d unlocked the door, a black SUV pulled up alongside them. Five men dressed in black outfits and balaclavas burst out of the rear doors. They shoved black sacks over Ryan and Sandra’s heads and forced them into the back of the van. The doors slammed shut and the SUV’s tyres screeched as it sped away.

  “Who the hell are you and what do you want!” Ryan shouted as he lay face down on the floor, pinned down by a size fourteen army boot.

  A deep, gruff voice replied, “You should have thought twice before snooping around my docks
, Ryan Gibson.”

  Chapter 46

  Blaze had joined the SAS just in time to make the muling run. He informed them of Archer’s generosity, fronting up with his bail fee and calling off Sanchez’s brute squad.

  They rumbled into Smuggler’s Point, lining up their bikes along the pier. Mr Lombardi’s remaining captains unload the Chardonnay Lady while Mr Lombardi, himself, inspected the merchandise. Vino was aboard, doing his best not to get in the way while nursing his injured arm. He quietly took Blaze aside, and said, “I would like to thank you for not leaving me behind in Worthington. If not for you, I wouldn’t be here. So if you ever need anything, anything at all, I would like to make it up to you.”

  “I only did it because you warned me about the possible rat in the MC,” Blaze retorted. “And luckily for you, you were right.”

  “Do you still think it’s Zoe?” Vino whispered.

  “There’s nothing to suggest it’s her other than that ring you gave me. But trust me when I say I’ve got my eyes wide open.”

  “Does this mean we can finally put our differences behind us?”

  “And why the fuck would I do that?”

  Vino shuffled his feet. “Things haven’t been going so well for me lately. If I make one more mistake, Mr Lombardi will drive me out to sea and toss me overboard; I sure could use one less enemy.”

  Blaze thought it over. “I’ll say we’re square—if you can give some information,” he bargained.

  “Sure. What do you wish to know?”

  “Tell me what happened to Fish, and why he was buried along with those girls.”

  Vino’s face instantly changed from friendly to that of a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “You’ll kill me if I tell you,” he replied.

  “I could kill you regardless whether you tell me or not.” He paused, then added, “Look, I already know he caught wind of something he shouldn’t have. I just want to know who ordered his execution.”

  Vino looked down and shuffled his feet.

  “You have my word: no harm will come to you—so long as you tell the truth.”

  “It was Mr Lombardi,” he blurted out. “Mr Sanchez caught your biker friend snooping around the docks on the night I delivered the first shipment of girls.”