by L. Wilder
Before he could finish his thought, I told him, “I know how a RAT works, Big.”
“Sorry, brother. I’m just thinking out loud.”
“No problem.” I knew he was only trying to help, but this wasn’t my first rodeo. “Besides, I think I’ve got it. Just give me a second.”
The last time I’d hacked into their system, I’d left a type of malware that would be secured deep within their data base, and as soon as I activated it, I’d have access to all the data it had saved on the main frame. Big leaned towards me, and once he’d seen what I’d done, he smiled and said, “A root-kit? Fuck, I hadn’t thought about that.”
Seconds later, I’d gotten in and started searching for Josue Navarro’s file—an infamous cartel boss who had the kind of power to take down anyone who got in his way. None of us considered him a potential threat until Shadow’s ol’ lady, Alex, mentioned his connection with her father’s business. As soon as Gus discovered that he was her uncle, he put the entire club on high alert. Alex’s father, Rodrigo Navarro, was one of the largest drug traders in California, and when he decided to expand his business, he set his sights on Memphis. Not only was this our territory, it was also the city where his daughter had been hiding for over eight years. Alex had done her best to keep her real identity, Alejandra Navarro, and her location a secret. She hadn’t even told Shadow the truth, hoping that her father wouldn’t be able to find her. Unfortunately, her efforts were in vain, and three days ago, he came after her. The club tried to step in, but Rodrigo was taken out before we ever had a chance to get our hands on him. Regardless of who’d killed Rodrigo, Gus knew that his brother would be looking for someone to hold accountable, and he wanted the club to be prepared if the blame fell on us.
As soon as I got the information we needed, Big turned to me and asked, “What do you need me to do?”
I handed him a sheet of paper. “Here’s a list of their latest stakeouts. See if you can figure out what’s what, so we know where to focus our search.”
We spent the next few hours collecting everything we could find on Navarro, and once we had it all sorted, we took what we’d found to Gus. When we made it down to his office, he was sitting behind his desk talking to Cotton, the president of the Washington chapter. Gus looked over to me and asked, “Were you able to find him?”
“Yes and no. I already knew that his cartel, the Parcas, was based out of Colima, Mexico, but I didn’t realize how powerful he’d become. He’s been shipping his product all over the world, and his distribution to the US has nearly tripled over the past year. The FBI has been trying to shut him down. From what we could tell, Robert Hamilton, the agent who’s been investigating him, was getting close to taking him down—too close.”
“And?”
“Navarro has gone underground. There’s been no sign of him in months.”
Big handed Gus the file as he said, “Looks like the agent was able to catch a break when he connected Navarro to the murder of six men in Cancun. They were competitors of his, and this motherfucker not only had them tortured and killed, he hung their bodies from local bridges for everyone to see.”
“That’s one way to make an impression,” Cotton grumbled. Over the years, Cotton had made his own impression with the brothers in our charter. He was one of the youngest presidents, but he’d proven himself to be a strong, unwavering leader. I wasn’t surprised when he came up with the idea for several of our clubs to join hands and create a pipeline for our gun distribution. It has been a profitable venture for all those involved, and I had no doubt that Cotton wasn’t happy that the last run had been put on hold. He leaned back in his chair with a blank expression and grumbled, “If he’s smart, he’ll cut his losses with his brother and move on.”
Gus cocked his eyebrow as he replied, “I highly doubt that’s going to happen.”
“The Parcas are at war with a neighboring cartel, the Mortales.” Big shook his head as he continued, “Hell, the entire city of Colima has turned into a battleground with bodies turning up left and right. It’s only been a couple of days, so maybe there’s a chance that he’s been too distracted to even know that his brother is missing.”
“Maybe, but it won’t be long before he gets suspicious.” Gus reached into his pocket for a cigarette, but just before he went to light it, he said, “We know Josue is the lead man. Hell, I bet Rodrigo never made a move without consulting him first.”
“Have to agree with you there. There’s no doubt Josue knew his brother was in Memphis, and I’d go so far as to say that he knew he’d found out that Alex was here and was planning to bring her home.”
Gus took a long drag off his cigarette as he replied, “You’re probably right about that.”
“Which means, he’ll come looking for her when he can’t contact her father,” Big added.
“Fuck. We don’t have time for this shit,” Gus barked. “Our buyers are waiting on their shipment, and we can’t keep putting them off.”
“We can’t put the pipeline in jeopardy. It’s too important,” Cotton replied.
Big glanced over to me and suggested, “Maybe we can come up with a way to distract him … just long enough for us to get this run carried out.”
“I was thinking about that myself.” Cotton looked over to Gus as he continued, “You know, you told me everything that happened with Rodrigo and how he was killed, but you never told me what you did with his remains.”
Confusion crossed Gus’s face as he answered, “Didn’t think that was important … but you don’t have to concern yourself with that. My boys are careful about that shit. It would take some fucking miracle for anyone to ever find his body, including Josue. For all anyone around here knows, he’s still alive and well. You have my guarantee on that.”
“That’s just it. Maybe it would be better if Josue actually knew he was dead.”
“What are you getting at, brother?” Gus asked.
“If we moved Rodrigo and his men to some remote location and staged the scene to look like someone else had killed him, then there would be an investigation. It would only be a matter of time before the news hit the papers, and Josue would be all over it. He’d want to find out for himself who’d killed his brother, and—”
Before he could finish, Gus said, “He’ll go looking there instead of searching for him here.”
“Exactly. I’m not saying that it’d take heat away completely, but it might buy us some time to pull off the run. Once we get that out of the way, then we can figure out the best way to take this motherfucker down.”
I was skeptical at best and didn’t hesitate in asking, “You really think that could work?”
“No idea.” Gus stood up, and he sounded optimistic as he continued, “But it’s worth a shot. Let’s go discuss it with the others.”
We all followed Gus out of his office and down the hall to the bar. When we walked in, Shadow, T-Bone, and Murphy were at one of the tables drinking a beer with Stitch and Clutch. After each of us grabbed a beer of our own, we went over and joined them. Murphy, our sergeant-at-arms, had an amused look on his face when he asked Clutch, “So, you’re saying you’ve got yourself a weak stomach?”
Clutch reached for his beer as he said, “Poke fun all you want, but you didn’t hear the conversation I just heard. I’ve always known Stitch could do some fucked up shit when he had to, but listening to him talk about it with Shadow shed a whole new light on the situation. There’s no way in hell I’d ever want to be on the other end of what they were dishing out.”
Shadow hadn’t been our club’s enforcer for very long, and he’d taken Stitch, the Washington chapter’s longtime enforcer, down to his holding rooms to see if he had any suggestions. Against Clutch’s better judgement, he went along for the ride and ended up getting more than he bargained for. “I never knew all the things that you could do with a simple set of pliers. Damn. That shit is gonna give me nightmares,” he said with his face contorted into a grimace.
I’d met Clutch just ove
r a year ago when he was establishing the route for our pipeline. At the time, our lead mechanic was laid up after a motorcycle accident, and Clutch ended up staying several weeks to help out in the garage. While he was here, we all learned that he had a great sense of humor, so I had no problem busting his chops. “Too bad your girl, Liv, isn’t here to hold your hand.”
“I wish she was … I don’t think I’m gonna sleep a wink tonight.”
“Don’t worry. Stitch will be there to keep you safe.” I chuckled.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because it doesn’t.”
I was just about to respond when Gus interrupted me. “I hate to break up this riveting conversation, but we have an important matter that needs to be discussed.”
The group fell silent as they listened to Gus share Cotton’s plan. It was clear from their expressions that Shadow and T-Bone were intrigued by the idea, but Murphy was a little skeptical. “You do realize that these guys have been buried for days.”
“Yeah, but it might not be as bad as you think,” T-Bone argued. “We wrapped and bound each of them in plastic. That, along with the lime we poured over the ground, should make it easier to move them.”
Shadow turned to Murphy and said, “Really, it doesn’t matter the shape they’re in. We’ll torch the place and burn whatever is left of them.”
“You’ve got a point there.” Murphy chuckled. “We’ll need to leave the cops a few clues to help them identify Navarro, otherwise it could take weeks to sort through the ashes.”
“No doubt about that.”
Murphy looked over to Gus and asked, “So, when you wanna do this?”
“The sooner the better.”
We spent the next half hour making arrangements to relocate Navarro’s remains. While none of us believed that it would keep Navarro’s brother at bay forever, we all agreed that it would buy us some time—time that we would use to prepare for the day he came knocking at our door.
You can find the rest of the story on Amazon under Riggs: Satan’s Fury MC- Memphis, along with Blaze and Shadow.