"Mike's a thug, his garage is a chop shop, and I'm confident he's up to his neck in all kinds of crap."
"My instinct tells me the same thing."
"I've always thought the security in that place is over the top even for a chop shop," he said, his frivolity abruptly giving way to consternation. "I spent some time up there late at night surveilling the place but nothing out of the ordinary ever happened."
"Is that everything?"
"Seems like it, and talk about perfect timing. Here comes our pizza."
"What do we do now?"
"Now? Now we eat."
As the large pie was placed in the middle of the table, Marco ordered them a bottle of red wine.
"We have some celebrating to do," he said happily as the waitress left to collect it.
"I completely agree, and this pizza looks incredible. By the way, where are we staying tonight? Can we find somewhere nice?"
"No."
"NO?"
"Screw nice. I want really nice. It's been almost two years since I've been anywhere really nice. As long as we're up here we're going to make the most of it, and I know exactly where to go."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It had been a short time after Kratos had started working for HH, that Tank had surprised Kratos with a gift; a framed color blowup of a photograph featuring Kratos sitting on his bike in front of the tavern. It had been a complete surprise, and Kratos had been genuinely touched. Tank had insisted on mounting it, and had placed it on the wall above the couch directly opposite the desk. Several months later Kratos had killed a fly with a rolled up magazine, and wiping it off with a paper towel he had spied a tiny camera lens. The discovery had been shocking, but not just because it was immediately obvious Tank had turned traitor; it had coincided with something else.
The night before he and Nancy had been watching a movie about a blackmailer who used a hidden camera. Finding it, the victim lured the blackmailer into a trap, ultimately killing him and retrieving most of his money, along with a fortune in jewelry and other cash. If Kratos had not seen the movie, his reaction when he'd seen the camera in the headlamp of the motorbike would have been uncontrollable rage, but fate had shown him another path. Fighting his fury he'd turned away, and idly tossing the paper towel into the wastebasket, he'd left the tavern and jumped on his bike for a long, fast ride.
Tank's remarkable gift had coincided with the start of Kratos's relationship with HH. It made sense. The ruthless gang were the only people who could have compromised his long-time friend, no doubt by scaring him senseless, but for Kratos such things were black and white. Tank was a traitor. End of story. When his rage had passed, Kratos realized his involvement with HH would be his ultimate demise. He had discussed the undeniable and frightening reality with his beloved Nancy for endless hours in the backyard hot tub, with music playing and the water bubbling. They'd decided the only answer was to start over far away from Los Angeles.
When Kratos had stepped into the opulent library in the grand glass home in the Hollywood Hills, and been presented with the polygraph machine, he'd seen it as fate. It was one more amazingly fortuitous event in a string of fortuitous events.
Several years before he had hijacked a liquor delivery truck. Everything had gone off without a hitch, but when the police had turned up at the tavern asking questions he'd been furious. How the hell had they tied him to the robbery? In a fit of anger he'd challenged them.
"Give me a fucking lie detector test. If I'd done it, don't you think I'd have an alibi lined up?"
To his dismay they'd taken him up on his offer. In a panic he'd contacted a shadowy figure, who, for a ridiculous amount of money, claimed he could train anyone to beat the machine. It had taken many painstaking hours locked in a small room, but it had worked. The cops had hooked him up, and he'd passed with flying colors.
HH presenting him with a lie detector machine was the last thing Kratos had expected. With the nanny cam in his office watching his every move, he'd thought the scene he'd played out with Marco would have convinced HH that he'd had no part in the disappearance of the missing heroin. He'd been wrong, and as he'd stood in the library with the fate of his precious Nancy in his hands, staring at the polygraph, suddenly the money he'd handed over those many years before was worth every red cent.
But beating the machine for the second time hadn't been easy. Kratos had to summon all his self-control, and he was quaking when he'd left the party.
After dropping Nancy back at their house, he'd continued on to the tavern, and now seated behind his desk, a glass of his best bourbon in his hand, he stared around his office. He hated to leave, but HH, whoever the fuck HH was, had given him no choice. Becoming involved with the evil drug kingpin had been a huge mistake, and escaping the clutches of the vicious organization had taken months of careful planning, but now he was only twenty-four hours away from making his dreams with Nancy become reality. Over the previous months he'd skimmed a significant amount of money from the business, and with the unexpected $100,000 he'd been given that morning at the glass palace, he and Nancy would be in good shape.
He swallowed down his drink, looked fondly around his office, rose to his feet, and headed out the door for the very last time.
"Are you riding to the rocks?" Tank asked as Kratos walked into the bar. "Marco called, wondered if I'd heard from you. I figured if you'd wanted him to know you were back you would've been in touch so I said no."
"I'm going up there now. I'll give him a call when I pick up Nancy. I need you to do me a favor. Ride up to Barkers Bar. It's one of Dennis's favorite haunts. Ask around. Find out if anyone's seen him up there."
"What about this place?"
"I'll close up after you leave. Jim can open up when he gets in later. Right now I'm more interested in finding Dennis."
"Okay, I'll take off now."
"Call right away if you learn anything."
As Tank grabbed his jacket and ambled out to his Harley, Kratos frowned grimly. Tank was going to have a very unfortunate accident. About the time he'd be riding down the twisting canyon road to the popular motorcycle haunt in the canyons, his brakes would fail. Kratos watched his former friend ride away, then walking behind the bar he emptied the cash register. Stuffing his pockets, he turned and let his eyes wander through the tavern, indulging himself in some treasured memories, then finally ready he walked out, climbed on his bike, and headed off to Mike's Garage where Nancy was waiting.
Mike! Another thorn in his side. The big lug was a greedy, manipulative motherfucker, and he'd screwed Kratos one too many times. Honor among thieves did not exist in Mike's world, and the bastard was about to get what was coming to him.
Several days before, Kratos had made him a remarkable offer.
"You still got those big-time connections south of the border?" Kratos had asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yeah, sure, why?"
"You think you can sell a full package of my high-grade smack?"
Mike had stared at him in astonishment, then narrowed his eyes.
"You goin' into business for yourself? Ain't that a death warrant?"
"Not if it's handled right. You've gotta move it fast, and it's gotta be done in Mexico. Let a whiff of it hit the streets around here, and yeah, we're dead, but if you can unload it down South, I'll split it with you fifty-fifty. You game?"
"You're shittin' me? Fuck yeah, I'm game. Course I'll have to discount it heavily to move it that fast."
"No sweat. I figured."
"I'll vamoose tomorrow. It should only take me a few days."
Kratos knew Mike would shaft him. Mike would stash the drugs and hand over a pittance, but a pittance was still a huge chunk of cash, and he and Nancy would be long gone by the time Mike discovered he was the one who'd been royally fucked over.
The hot chick showing up with a bike from New York with the plates still on, Kratos had seen as fate's last gift. The icing on the cake.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
&nb
sp; Riding up the winding road to Mike's Garage, Kratos could already picture the coming days; palm trees, the warm tropical breeze, and the soft white sand under his toes. Under new identities he and Nancy would be boarding a luxury ship bound for the Caribbean where they'd spend two weeks on a remote island deciding where they'd settle. The Bay of Islands in New Zealand and the Gold Coast of Australia topped the list. Rolling to a stop outside the chop-shop, he climbed off and spied Nancy sitting on a tree stump near the side of the road. He wasn't surprised. She hated Mike and his filthy workplace.
"Hi, honey," Nancy beamed running over to meet him. "I'm so glad you're here."
"Hey, sweet cheeks," Kratos said with a wide grin. "I'm glad to be here too! Where's Mike?"
"Inside. Be quick, okay? I really want to get out of here. I'm nervous."
"Listen, if anything was going to happen with HH, it would have by now," he said quietly as they headed towards the garage. "Trust me. We're good."
"How's it hangin'?" Mike called as he lumbered out to meet them.
"Great," Kratos replied. "Is everything cool? No problems down South?"
"Easy as pie. Lemme get your cash. You think we can pull this shit again? Fastest chunk of moolah I ever made."
"Maybe in a few months."
Walking over to one of the many tubs of motor oil laying on the floor, Mike carefully pushed it aside revealing a round metal plate. Lifting it up he reached inside and pulled out a plastic shopping bag.
"I had to discount it heavy. If we'd been able to move it on the streets he'd have tripled what's in there, but you said fast. Bike's all done. It's right there."
Kratos took the plastic bag, and opening it up he fanned through the wads of bills. Satisfied, he walked over to Kat's bike, now painted black, and placed it inside one of the saddlebags.
"You ready, Nancy? I wanna get to the rocks before sunset."
"Yeah, I'm ready, you bet I'm ready."
"I'm dyin' to know why you want that girl's bike," Mike muttered. "She's gonna be really pissed when I tell her it was stolen. Aren't you worried she'll recognize it, even with the black paint job and the parts I switched out?"
"If I was worried, would I be ridin' it?" Kratos scoffed. "We're outta here, and I don't need to tell you not to throw your money around, right?"
"How stupid do you think I am? No fuckin' way do I want HH and his guys breathin' down my neck."
Rolling Kat's bike outside, Kratos and Nancy donned their helmets, climbed on board and rode off. With his hands on his hips Mike chuckled with glee. The money he'd handed over to Kratos wasn't from the sale of the heroin, it was from his own stash of cash. He'd take the drugs down to Mexico for sure, but he'd do it at his leisure and get twice as much. Kratos was such a chump! Returning to the shop he put the metal cover back in its place, and moved the oil pan over it.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kratos and Nancy were headed to San Pedro where they'd be staying overnight at the plush Las Terrazas Resort. She would give him a makeover, cutting off his long brown hair and bleaching it blond. The following morning they'd pick up phony passports featuring their new names, William and Sabrina Easterbrook, and in the afternoon, they'd board the ship and be on their way to their new life. While HH would be spinning his wheels looking for the missing delivery, Tank would either be in a wooden box or laying in a hospital bed seriously injured, and Big Mike would be dealing with more shit falling on his head than he could ever imagine.
Kratos had just turned the corner and entered the main street that would take them to the freeway, when a slew of black SUV's with darkly tinted windows roared past them. With tires squealing the vehicles careened around the bend, then took off at high speed. Kratos recognized the signature vehicles; they were either FBI, DEA, or Tobacco and Firearms. It was shocking to see them, and slowing the bike he pulled to the side of the road.
"What's wrong?" Nancy asked. "Why did you stop?"
"Those SUV's. I'm sure they're the Feds."
"Ooh--do you think they're going to Mike's?"
"This is a crap area. They could be going anywhere."
"Should we go back and take a look?"
"No, we'll stick with the plan. I'll make the call right before we get on the ship."
But Kratos was rattled. A chill was moving through his body, and with an odd sense of panic rippling through his veins, he roared off down the street and up the ramp to the highway.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
David Pane had been driving the huge semi-truck for hours. He was tired, but he was on high alert. The traffic was flowing at a fast clip, but a white SUV had been weaving in and out of lanes. The erratic driver had already pulled in front of him a couple of times with no signal and with little room to spare.
Just as Kratos rode on to the freeway, the white SUV sandwiched itself in front of the semi, but at that precise moment the car in front hit his brakes. With no room to swerve away the white SUV slammed into him. David, in a desperate effort to avoid sandwiching the SUV, swung his huge semi into the lane on his right, a lane that had been clear just a moment before.
He saw the motorcycle, but too late.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Kat and Marco had checked into the Lake Arrowhead Resort and spa, and immediately upon entering the room Kat had run a bubble bath. Gratefully soaking in the relaxing foam, she leaned back against Marco's muscled body, and as his arms came around her she let out a long happy sigh.
"This is heaven."
"For more reasons than you can know," he murmured.
"Like?"
"Like, I knew I wanted to be back in the real world, but I didn't realize how much."
"I can't even imagine living life the way you have for two years. How did you do it?"
"I immersed myself. Became someone else, and always remembered I was on a job. I'm still on a job, and so are you."
"I've only been doing it for five minutes, but it feels as if it's coming to an end already. I think you'll be back in your own home pretty quick. Do you have your own home? Is it okay to ask that?"
"Sure it's okay. I leased it. Someone's managing it for me. It's in the rural area of Thousand Oaks."
"Really? I ride my bike out there all the time."
"I can't wait to get back."
"It won't be long. This whole crazy HH thing is beginning to unravel."
"Finding out about the mansion is a big break, but you know as well as I do the unexpected is always around the corner."
"True."
"When we get out of this tub..." he whispered, moving his hands over her slippery breasts, "you know what I'm going to do?"
"No, I haven't a clue. Why don't you tell me?"
"I'm going to put you over my knee."
He'd breathed the hot promise in her ear, and turning her head around she looked at him with a puzzled frown.
"Why?"
"Because it looks as if we'll be seeing this operation through together, and I'm going to make damn sure there's no confusion about who's in charge."
"But we'll be partners," she said softly, gently shifting to lay on top of him and dropping her lips on to his. "Partners, as in, equal."
"Partners, yes," he said, gripping her wet hair and pulling it back to lock her eyes, "and I know you can take care of yourself, but I'm still going to take the lead. I'm not going to let you do anything stupid."
"That's insulting!" she said indignantly. "I'm not stupid, and I can't believe you said that."
"You're right. Let me put it another way. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
"Marco..."
"You know that's how I am. Protecting you is--well--the number one item in my job description."
"For the record, Mr. DEA, I'm not going to let anything happen to you either."
He grinned.
"I believe you, but you really do need a spanking."
As he released her hair, she dropped her head into the crook of his shoulder and sank against him. She knew what he mea
nt, and though she hated to admit it, he was right. She was sharp and smart and had great instincts, but there were times she could be overly confident, even impulsive.
"Have you soaked long enough?" he purred. "Are you ready to get out?"
"I suppose, though I could stay here like this forever. I hope we don't have any messages waiting for us."
"They'll be raiding Mike's Garage about now. No doubt we'll be hearing something before too long."
"Then I guess, if you're going to ravage me, we'd should make a move. I'd hate to be interrupted by buzzing phones."
They climbed from the tub and dried off, and Marco paused to grab a condom from his toiletry bag.
"They're such a nuisance," she remarked as they entered the bedroom and he tossed it on the nightstand. "I wish I could have you naked. I am on the pill."
"I want that too, but there are other considerations, and I'm a very cautious guy."
"I know, it's good, and I agree," she purred stretching out on the bed.
Climbing up after her, he sat with his back against the padded headboard and patted his thighs.
"You know what to do."
"You really don't have to..." she said softly, staring up at him with ridiculously woeful eyes.
"Stop giving me that look! You know that's not true. Lay over my lap, and don't make me ask you again."
With a dramatic sigh she slithered over him, but took her time squirming into position.
"There really is a very naughty girl living inside you," he chuckled as he began caressing her backside, "and it's definitely time to lay down some ground rules. Are you ready?"
"Fine."
"What did you just say?"
"Sorry! Sometimes I can't help myself."
"I rest my case," he declared as he delivered his first few smacks.
"OW, but in the field I'm the best. I know what I'm doing."
"That's probably true, but that first night at the tavern you came on way too strong," he said sternly, continuing to land his hot slaps. "You do know that."
Motorcycle Master: Bad Boy Angel (Alpha Male Master Series Book 1) Page 9