Brad stepped to the other side of the table. Keaton stared, wide-eyed from the floor, bullet wounds in his forehead. He turned to a man tied to a post. “Zerr, check the guy on the post. I think that’s Wolfe.”
Zerr sprinted to the post where Wolfe was tied. His face was puffy and purple. Blood dribbled from his mouth and nose. Zerr lifted Wolfe’s head.
Wolfe gasped. First one breath, a pause, then another, and another.
“He’s alive,” Zerr said. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Ames, help me cut him down.”
Zerr sawed at the ropes with his knife. Ames cut from the other side. They lowered Wolfe to the floor.
Pickens lay on the floor by the table. Brad slung his rifle on his shoulder and knelt. “I’ve got a pulse.”
Brad’s radio crackled. “It’s Knight. The farmhouse is secure. Two DOA. Need EMS for two others, minor injuries.”
“Okay, stand by,” Brad said.
“Briscoe,” Brad radioed. “We’ve secured the barn and farmhouse. We have a couple of critical injuries here. Have your guys escort two ambulances to the farmhouse and three to the barn.”
“Roger,” Briscoe said.
“And don’t send anyone into the woods,” Brad said. “Secure the perimeter. We’ll wait til daylight to do a full search.”
Brad cut the rope on Pickens’ hands and rolled him onto his back. He cut off the leather jacket and shirt, exposing a ballistic vest. What the hell? Two slugs were embedded in the vest. Blood oozed from a wound on Pickens’ right shoulder and another one on his right bicep. Brad removed the vest. B
Large bruises were appearing on Pickens’ chest. His breathing was rapid and shallow. Nothing more Brad could do.
“Boss,” Steele said. “This guy’s alive.”
Brad jogged over to Steele and knelt. “It’s Hehn. He looks like shit.”
“He’s taken a good beating,” Steele said. “He’s got a bunch of cuts and bruises on his face and his nose is broken.”
Brad stepped closer. “Was he shot?”
“Nope. Why?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Brad said.
Maggie and Sharma rushed through the door with a stretcher carrying their EMS kits.
Brad waved them over.
“Oh, god,” Maggie said. “How many are hurt?”
“Three in serious condition, all unconscious.” He pointed to Wolfe. “He seems the worst. Two others in bad shape.”
Maggie knelt next to Wolfe. “Sharma, I need a hand here.”
Brad nodded to Zerr, who took a position near Maggie.
“Gunshot wounds.” Brad directed Thompson and Dixon toward Pickens.
They set their kits beside Pickens and stared at the bruises on Pickens' chest. “Those are nasty, maybe a broken rib or two. Not much we can do for that here,” Thompson said. “We’ll patch up the open wounds in his right arm and get out of here.”
Two more paramedics raced into the barn. “Over there.” Brad pointed to where Steele knelt with Hehn.
Briscoe rushed in, leading at least a dozen uniformed cops and more paramedics. Briscoe took charge and protected the crime scene. The role of TSU was over.
Brad pulled Devlin over to a quiet corner of the barn. “That’s the leadership of both clubs wiped out. What happens now?”
Devlin shook his head. “Hell if I know.”
Brad leaned against the wall. “Six bikers at this meeting. It was supposed to be about making peace. Did the Angels have to kill them?”
“They targeted the Jokers and Soldiers leadership and enforcers. The message to the other bikers was clear—the Hells Angels are now in charge.”
“I know, but something’s not right.” Brad shook his head. “Three bikers are dead—Keaton, White and Perrault. Why did three live? Two were beaten. They thought they’d beaten Wolfe to death. So, let’s put that one aside. That leaves Hehn who was beaten and Pickens was beaten and shot at least four times, but was wearing a vest. What the fuck? The two money guys for the clubs are alive. Why hurt any of them?”
“What’re you thinking?” Devlin asked.
“This stinks.”
Chapter Seventy-Four
Brad watched the paramedics leave. Maggie glanced over as she pushed the stretcher with Wolfe toward the door and shook her head. Maybe Wolfe wasn’t going to make it—no loss there.
Devlin led detectives around the barn. The Ident team took photographs and marked evidence.
What an hour earlier was the scene of Calgary’s worst massacre, was now a tightly controlled crime scene. The duty inspector took over from Briscoe.
It was eerie, like he was watching a TV cop show—something he wasn’t a part of. But he had been, right in the middle. Not only tonight but for months. This wasn’t the way he thought the biker war would end.
It was well after midnight. The adrenaline rush of the last few hours was gone. He was running on fumes.
He walked toward the front door and called to Zerr and Steele. They caught up with him outside the barn.
“I need your help,” Brad said. “We have to get Nichols.”
Brad set out into the woods. They circled a bit, and doubled back more than once, then found the bodies of the Gypsy Joker and Satan’s Soldier. Brad knew he was close. A minute later, they found the bodies of Nichols and two Hells Angels.
“Ah, shit,” Steele said.
Zerr and Steele moved to either side of Brad and put their arms around his shoulders. Brad’s chest heaved. “He confessed. I think that’s what he did. He was the leak. Or one of the leaks. He gave information on everything to his girlfriend. She gave it to the bikers. Saving me was his penance.”
“Ah, fuck,” Zerr said. “Ah, jeez. He was an ass, but I didn’t think he’d sell us out.”
“Might have been pillow talk,” Steele said. “His girlfriend was smokin’ hot.”
“Maybe that’s where it started,” Zerr said. “But the bikers were ahead of us. Pillow talk would be about what recently happened. At some point he gave real-time information on our operations. He’s a fucking traitor.”
“We should leave him here,” Steele said. “Besides, this is a crime scene.”
“This whole fucking area is a crime scene,” Brad said. “There aren’t enough resources to cover all this. I’m not leaving him here.”
“Let us help,” Steele said.
“No.” Brad knelt beside Nichols, grabbed his arms, and pulled Nichols onto his shoulder. With Nichols balanced on his shoulder, Brad hiked back through the woods.
Chapter Seventy-Five
Brad parked outside the General Hospital and trudged into the emergency department with Devlin, Zerr, and Steele. They hurried down the hallway toward the trauma beds.
“You can’t go back there,” a nurse from the triage desk called.
They kept going and stopped in the hallway outside the trauma rooms. Doctors, nurses, and other hospital staff surrounded three beds.
Brad stared at the three bikers. What the hell was all this for?
A nurse pulled the curtains closed.
“I’m feeling a little unwelcome,” Devlin said.
“Maybe you need to shave?” Zerr said. “And shower.”
Maggie joined them in the hallway. “None of you look or smell that good.” She put her arm around Brad. “Are you okay?”
“I’m exhausted. Can you help us? You know, tell us how the bikers are doing? They closed the curtain on us.”
Maggie glanced around the corridor. “I shouldn’t say anything.”
“Even if we say please?” Devlin asked.
“Not here. Follow me.”
Maggie led them to the coffee room. “Wolfe’s got severe head injuries, a fractured skull, and bleeding in the brain. The bones around one eye are crushed, and he has a broken jaw. They’ll take him to surgery soon. He’s gonna take a long time to recover, if he ever does. The other two aren’t as bad. Pickens woke up in the ambulance on the way here, but says he doesn’t remember anything from tonight. He ha
s broken ribs from the gunshots, but the ballistic vest saved his life. Why was Pickens the only one wearing a vest?”
“I wonder that, too,” Brad said.
“The gunshots to his right shoulder and arm are relatively minor,” Maggie said. “Pickens will need X-rays. He’ll recover from those injuries in a month to six weeks. He was lucky. Hehn was beaten, his injuries are the least serious of the three. They’ll keep Hehn a few days. They’re all lucky to be alive.”
“I don’t know about the lucky part,” Steele said.
“I didn’t mean lucky they were injured, only lucky their injuries didn’t kill them. Not like the others.”
“That’s what bothers me,” Brad said. “Hehn and Pickens had way too much luck tonight. I don’t believe in coincidences or luck.”
“Maybe the Hells Angels got careless at the end,” Devlin said. “We were coming in, they were rushing out. They didn’t have time to kill Pickens and Hehn. They already thought Wolfe was dead.”
“I’m not sure.” Brad shook his head. “We were played by Pickens. Right from the start. That fucker knew about Annie all along.”
“What does Pickens get from this?” Devlin asked. “His club is ruined, he’s injured but didn’t die.”
“This was a show for us,” Brad said. “What if Pickens and Hehn weren’t meant to die?”
Brad pulled Maggie aside. “Can we take a walk? Somewhere quiet.”
“Sure,” Maggie said. “I know just the spot.”
Brad followed Maggie onto the heliport.
Maggie walked to the far side of the landing pad and sat with her legs dangling over the side. She leaned into the railing. Brad walked around the pad, looking toward downtown. Maggie patted the hard surface. “Sit. You make me nervous when you pace.”
Brad slid his legs over the edge. He put his arm around Maggie and pulled her tight. “Beautiful view.”
“I like to come out here. It’s quiet, peaceful, and the view is fantastic.” She snuggled close. “Are you okay? Tell me honestly.”
Brad took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “Sometimes it’s a blur, then I get vivid flashbacks, even with my eyes open. We knew bikers were being killed, but I didn’t have enough guys. I made fast decisions.”
Maggie rubbed his neck and shoulders.
Brad stared away. “I was sure the Hells Angels were there to wipe out the Calgary bikers. I wanted to stop the Angels, but I didn’t want more deaths. I was tired of the violence. Then I thought it wouldn’t be bad if they killed each other.”
Brad told Maggie about being in the woods with Nichols. Brad felt disconnected as he told the story, as if it was someone else’s story and not his. Like he’d watched it happen.
“Oh my god.” Maggie held him tight. “Oh my god. That’s terrible.”
“Tonight was hell.” No tears. No sobs. He felt nothing.
Maggie slipped out of Brad’s grip, held his face in her hands. “Is it over now? Is the fighting done?”
“The Gypsy Jokers and Satan’s Soldiers are done. Their leadership is wiped out. Most of the others are in jail, at least for a while.”
“Are we safe?”
Brad pulled his head away and stared out at the lights of downtown. “We’re safe. But I don’t think this is over. Not with the Hells Angels involved.”
“How’d it get this far?”
“It got away from the leaders. Once it was in motion, they didn’t know how to stop. They were racing toward the end but had no idea what the end was. The cops got in the middle. The problem was the bikers didn’t care about collateral damage—the ten-year-old boy, Roger Kearse, judges, or cops. Now that both Keaton and Perrault are dead, the battle for control of the city is over. I guess the city is safer.”
Maggie pushed away and turned to Brad. “That wasn’t convincing. What’s bothering you?”
“The Jokers and Soldiers are done. But now we have the Hells Angels in town.”
“Will they stay?”
“Yeah. There’s a lot of money to be made here in drugs and prostitution. No one is meeting the demand. The Hells Angels will step up.”
“That’s not good. You traded problems. Two small biker clubs for one big one.”
“That’s one way to put it. The missing girl, Annie, and another girl, escaped and called us. The Jokers had her all along.”
“Are they okay?”
“I’m not sure. They’re with Davidson at the district office.”
“Annie’s gone through hell,” Maggie said. “She lost her family and was assaulted. Poor girl. Is something else bugging you?”
“I’ve missed something. It’s like it’s right there in front of me, but I can’t see it.”
“Maybe there’s nothing to see. It’s over. You guys took down the bikers. It didn’t happen the way you wanted, but the Jokers and Soldiers are done. That’s what you wanted. That’s what you guys set out to do.”
“It bugs me that Pickens and Hehn are alive and weren’t badly injured.”
“Would you feel better if they were dead?”
Brad nodded. “I might.”
“You won. Be happy with that.”
They watched an ambulance, lights flashing, race down Memorial Drive and then up the ramp to the emergency entrance.
“I need to finish my paperwork.” Maggie stood. “Play your cards right and I’ll come by your house in the morning for breakfast and a shower. Not in that order, though.”
“I’ve got one more thing to do, then I’ll be home.” Brad stood, leaned down, and kissed Maggie on her forehead. “You should bring all your stuff when you come over. Move in with me.”
Chapter Seventy-Six
Brad parked behind the Delta District office and entered through the back door. Davidson was waiting for him.
“How is she?” Brad asked.
“Doing remarkably well.”
“Can I see her?” Brad asked.
“In a minute. Sissy is the other girl that escaped. They were both captives in the Joker’s clubhouse and sexually assaulted—Sissy for more than a year.”
“Ah fuck. Wolfman?”
“Yes. I had EMS take Sissy to the hospital. My partner went with her.”
“Where’s Annie?”
“She’s in the parade room. We ordered pizza.”
“Any left? I’m starving.”
“I doubt it—she’s got a good appetite.”
Brad followed Davison down the hall. She opened the door and walked in.
Annie was leaning back in a chair, her feet on the table.
“Annie, this is Sergeant Coulter.”
“Hi, Annie. Call me Brad.”
“I’ve got reports to write.” Davison left the room and closed the door.
Annie cocked her head to the side and looked him up and down. She rocked her chair forward and dropped her feet to the floor. “You look like crap.”
“It was a busy night.”
“There’s blood on your shirt,” Annie said.
Brad looked down—his shirt was covered with dried blood. Nichols’ blood. Ah shit.
Annie leaned forward. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. How about you?”
She looked away for a minute. “I don’t know. I’ll probably never be okay. It was hell.” She closed her eyes then opened them abruptly. “Every time I close my eyes some horrible scene plays in my head.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For the first time in months, I feel safe. Tina’s been great. At first, I thought she was a typical bitch cop.” Annie grabbed a Coke and drank. “She likes you.”
“What do you mean?”
“She was all tough cop shit at the start. Then she told me about you and was all smiles.”
Brad nodded, not sure what to say.
“You got a girlfriend?” Annie asked.
“Yes,” Brad said.
“Too bad. Is your girlfriend nice?”
“Yes.”
“Is your girlfriend the paramedic?”
/>
“Yes.”
Annie laughed. “Tina hates her.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“My mom never found good guys. They were all assholes.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been tough.”
“Stop saying sorry. It’s not your fault.” She took another drink. “Tina says you were the one who found my mom and that asshole Russ.”
“My partner and I were the first ones there.”
“I only caught a glimpse of them bleeding on the floor. Then I got hit. When I woke up—”
“Let’s talk about something else,” Brad said. “You might see your baby brother today.”
“Tina told me he was okay and in a foster home.” Annie smiled. “I didn’t know if he was alive. I hoped he was. Thinking about him kept me going. Seeing him again was all I had.”
“I get that.”
“I want to know what happened tonight.”
“That’s not something you need to think about.”
“I need to know.”
“The information you gave was critical. It was a piece of the puzzle we needed.” He spent the next five minutes talking about the night, leaving out the gruesome details.
She asked, “Is Wolfman dead?”
Brad shook his head. “Not yet.”
“Will he die?”
“Probably not.”
“But he’ll go to jail?” Annie asked.
“Yes, for a very long time.”
“He’s an animal.”
“I know. We’ll need you to testify.”
“About what he did to me? What he did to Alf?”
“Yes.”
Her face contorted in pain. Tears ran down her cheek. She sniffled. “I’ll tell you everything.”
“Whoa. Wait, not yet. Not to me. Detectives will interview you.”
“But I trust you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” Annie said. “I do. When I saw you the night the ambulance came for Alf, I knew.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“I should have.” She sniffled again. “When you walked away, I wanted to yell for you to come back. But I was scared. Living in that hellhole does that to you. You don’t think straight.”
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