Rattrap

by L. M. Somerton

  “God, I feel like crap. I need to fix up an intravenous caffeine drip.”

  He groped in the fridge for fresh coffee. The bright internal light hurt his eyes. He slammed the door shut, squinting in an attempt to clear the white spots in his vision. As he turned to grab a new filter from a cupboard, Adrian caught sight of a face at the window.

  “Holy fuck!” The packet of coffee fell from his grasp and a drift of brown grains slid from the open end. Tiny particles sprayed across his bare feet, and the heady aroma of arabica hit his nostrils. He glared at the window.

  “I’m suffering from hallucinations brought on by lack of fucking coffee,” he growled. Then a banging started up at the front door.

  “Jesus!” He shook the coffee from his feet and jogged down the hall. “All right! I’m coming. You’re going to wake up the entire block.” Adrian tore open the door. Instincts honed by years of training meant that he caught the body falling toward him. He registered damp warmth on his hands and body as he lifted the slight young man into his arms and carried him through to the couch.

  One-handed, Adrian spread a soft throw across the couch seats and gently lowered his burden. A low moan of pain told Adrian that his visitor was alive. He trotted back down the hall and kicked the front door shut, then went to the kitchen and fetched his first-aid kit, some wipes and a towel. He put everything on the low table in front of the couch.

  “You’re naked,” Adrian’s unexpected guest stated. A pair of piercing blue eyes examined Adrian with interest. “I like it.” The start of a laugh turned into a wince.

  “Where are you hurt? And I’m not naked.”

  “Close enough.” Blondie leered at him. “Teddy said you were gorgeous and I guessed he was exaggerating. I was wrong.”

  “Teddy? Where is he, what the hell is going on?”

  Another groan focused Adrian’s mind. “First things first. Let’s get you sorted. Are you injured?”

  Blondie’s eyes were squeezed shut.

  “Bullet skimmed my hip, I think. They ran me off the road and I crashed the van. Must have bruises and scratches from crawling through brambles. I slipped and twisted my ankle. Bashed my knee.”

  “So, what you’re saying is you’re pretty beat up?” Adrian bit back all the questions he was dying to ask. “I should call the paramedics.”

  “No!” His patient attempted to get up.

  Adrian shoved him back down. “Okay, okay. Stay put and I’ll check you out, but if your injuries are too bad for me to deal with, I’m calling them. You’re going to have to let me take your pants off so I can check the bullet wound.”

  “You want in my pants already? I’m impressed.” Blondie snorted his amusement.

  Adrian pulled off his patient’s boots first. One ankle was swollen and mottled red. He undid a button fly and pulled down worn, filthy jeans.

  “Oh… I’m”—Blondie blushed pink—“commando.”

  Adrian gaped.

  “Oops. Left that warning a bit late, didn’t I?”

  Despite the chill of the air conditioning Adrian’s skin heated all over. “Roll onto your side so I can see the wound.”

  “Okay, my name’s Kit by the way. Now you’ve seen my bits I think you’re entitled to a name.” Kit maneuvered his body onto one side. He paled, and Adrian debated whether he ought to run for a bucket in case his guest decided to throw up.

  “You doing okay?”

  “Fucking hurts,” Kit said from between gritted teeth.

  Adrian made a careful examination of the injury. “You’ve got a nasty groove here but the bleeding has almost stopped. I can probably pull the edges together with tape. As long as you don’t wriggle around too much, it should heal.”

  “Do what you must, doc.” Kit dug his teeth into his lower lip.

  Adrian poured liquid antiseptic onto a gauze pad. “This is going to sting a bit.” He pressed the pad to the raw wound before Kit could protest.

  Kit blanched even further but remained stoic. Adrian was impressed. He swiftly taped the cut then covered it with a sterile pad and more tape. He spent a few minutes cleaning the various other scrapes on Kit’s exposed skin.

  “Okay, that will have to do for now.” He grabbed a second throw from a chair and covered Kit from the waist down. He propped him into a sitting position with a couple of cushions. “Now talk. What the fuck is going on?”

  “My name is Kit Weston. I’m with Homeland Security. I’ve been working deep undercover with a bunch of asshole white supremacists masquerading as a biker gang called the—”

  “Knights of War,” Adrian interrupted. “Fuck.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Teddy told you I’m the local sheriff?”

  Kit nodded.

  “A few days ago I got a bulletin about them, I’ve been doing a little digging. But what does all this have to do with Teddy Austin?” Adrian’s guts clenched at the thought that Teddy might be in trouble.

  “The Wyverns have an association with a man who occasionally provides more unusual support services to various law enforcement agencies. His name is Horatio Trap.”

  Adrian gaped. He had no idea that there was more to The Wyverns than met the eye. He had no recollection of Teddy mentioning the name Trap either.

  “No fucking way! That bunch of reprobates are on the side of justice?” Adrian needed confirmation.

  “They sure are,” Kit said. “The Wyverns were asked to get a man on the inside of The Knights’ organization. They weren’t told why, but it was to help me get a message to the outside.”

  “And Teddy got the gig?”

  “He did. He made a show of dumping The Wyverns, and yesterday found himself a new crew. The timing was perfect. I’ve known for a while that Reiker, the leader of the Knights, had plans for a major hit. I just didn’t know where. Last night he told his inner circle of goons the plan. I made sure I overheard, then passed the information on to Teddy. He was supposed to get the information out but Reiker had everyone in lockdown for a celebratory booze-fest. Teddy realized he wouldn’t be able to get away and created a little diversion. I used the chaos to slip past the guards. Some fucker spotted me and took a few pot shots but I made it to my van and got away. A few of them chased me down on bikes. I hit a wall but made it onto some waste ground and got away through the undergrowth. I have no money and no phone. All I could remember was your address. Teddy said you’d help.”

  Adrian switched to sheriff mode.

  “Right. What’s the target?”

  “There’s a gospel choir competition being hosted at the South Mountain Community College later today. They intend to stage a gun battle and take out as many of the crowd as they can.”

  “Fuck, that’s a huge event. Those people will be sitting ducks.”

  “Exactly. You don’t have much time.” Kit’s head dropped back to the arm of the couch. “Sorry, I’m not going to be much help.”

  Adrian took a good look at the small blond. Fuck, but he’s pretty. Feisty too and hard as nails to be in deep cover for so long. Bet he’s a challenge between the sheets. If it weren’t for Teddy I wouldn’t mind finding out. “Stay put and rest. I’m going to call in the cavalry… And put some pants on.”

  “No need to cover up on my account,” Kit murmured.

  * * * *

  Teddy cranked open an eyelid. Light hit his optic nerve and ignited the fires of hell in his head. His stomach rolled over and died.

  “Holy fucking hell,” he croaked. Someone had lined his throat with tar-coated gravel. He had the dimmest recollection of raucous drinking games, loud music and greasy burgers. The thought of food brought back the urge to vomit. He fought it down, though acid bile rose from his guts.

  It took a while for all the pieces to slot into place. “The abattoir. Reiker. Fuck! Kit.” Saying the words out loud helped him return to the land of the living. He opened both eyes and let the knives stab his eyeballs until the pain subsided. He was sprawled on a cot in the room he should have been s
haring with Kit. He still wore his boots, leather pants and a T-shirt that stank of booze and cigarette smoke. A low chuckle sounded from the open doorway and Teddy turned toward the annoying sound.

  “Don’t tell me, I missed the dawn tai chi session.”

  Reiker pulled a hunting knife from his belt and used it to clean out his fingernails. “You sure as fuck know how to party.”

  Teddy grunted. Reiker hadn’t asked him a question, therefore he didn’t feel the need to dredge up a response.

  “You dented one or two of my guys last night.”

  Teddy flexed the fingers on his right hand. His knuckles were bruised and sore. “Sorry?”

  “Like fuck you are.” Reiker wove the knife between his fingers until Teddy’s eyes crossed trying to keep track of it.

  Teddy sat up and didn’t bother to hold back his groan. “I’m getting too old for this shit. What the hell were we drinking last night anyway?” He peered around. “Did I scare off my roomie?”

  “Little shit did a runner last night.”

  “Why? I thought he was tight with you guys. Gave me the hard sell on the tour yesterday.”

  Reiker shrugged. “Didn’t have the balls to see it through, I suppose.”

  “Today’s the big day, huh? You sure you want me along for the ride?”

  “You up for wiping a few undesirables from the face of the planet?” Reiker gave him a hard stare.

  “If it convinces you I’m genuine then I’m up for anything. Just point me at the enemy.” Teddy got to his feet and stretched. “Kit mentioned something about a spare clothes stash. I think I’d be doing everyone a favor if I took advantage of it. I reek.” He pulled his T-shirt up and sniffed.

  Reiker grunted. “Don’t be long. I’m pulling everything forward. We leave in thirty minutes.”

  Teddy hid his shock. “I’ll be ready.”

  Reiker buried his knife in the doorframe. The sound of his receding footsteps had faded before it stopped vibrating.

  Teddy left the knife where it was and went to seek out the storage closet. It didn’t take long to find it. Several shelves were stacked with neat piles of jeans, shirts and towels. There were boots, some leather jackets and even a basket of assorted underwear and socks. Teddy shivered. No way was he going to wear some dead guy’s cast-off shorts. There wasn’t a great deal of choice in his size but he managed to find a serviceable pair of black denims and a faded Iron Maiden T-shirt. He grabbed a towel rough enough to take off a layer of skin and a half-full bottle of something green that smelled of mint.

  After a very quick shower in tepid water, Teddy dressed in his new gear. After a moment’s consideration, he returned to the closet and picked out a battered leather jacket. He left his own waistcoat on his cot. The jacket would serve better if he needed to deflect a blade.

  Teddy paused and took in Kit’s unused bed, hoping that his new friend had made it to safety. The thrill of adrenaline coursing through his veins put a wry grin on Teddy’s face. Facing danger, even death, let him know he was alive. He levered Reiker’s abandoned knife from the doorframe and slipped it into his inside jacket pocket. After one last glance around, Teddy strolled back to the abattoir’s main room.

  Twenty or so men milled around. They were laughing and joking as if they were about to go out on a charity ride or day trip, not to massacre a bunch of innocents. Teddy felt sick to his stomach. These were some seriously disturbed individuals and that made the situation twice as dangerous. Men like these, fanatical in their beliefs, didn’t hesitate and didn’t distinguish between victims. They anticipated a bloodbath and reveled in the prospect.

  Teddy mingled, nodding and greeting men he recognized from the previous evening. He shook hands with one guy sporting an impressive black eye.

  “Sorry about the bruises,” Teddy said.

  “Good to know you’re handy in a fight.” His victim shrugged. Teddy moved on, making his way to where Reiker and his closest cronies surrounded a table loaded with guns and grenades.

  Teddy let out a low whistle as he took in the selection of illegal weaponry.

  “Holy fuck, is that an AA-12?” He recognized a Kel-tec PLR-16, a couple of Bushmaster Carbons and an older Claridge model. All American made.

  “It is.” Reiker grinned. “You know your guns?”

  Teddy gave the weapon an admiring glance. “AA-12 Atchisson Assault Shotgun. Can fire five twelve-gauge shells per second. Fires frag. Grenades as well. Very nice.”

  Teddy wondered how the hell Reiker had got his hands on his armory. He had enough weapons to start a small war.

  Men started distributing the guns, and Teddy found himself handed a sawn-off shotgun and a box of shells. He could just about conceal both inside his jacket.

  “Mount up,” Reiker shouted. “Time to give the news stations something to air.”

  Teddy followed the group out to the yard and found his bike amidst the rows of motorcycles. The main gates to the yard slid open and the throaty roar of engines became a cacophony of sound. The ground rumbled with vibration.

  Teddy had no clue what to do. His only plan was to follow along and attempt to take Reiker out at the earliest opportunity.

  “This is Homeland Security. You are surrounded. Dismount and lie face down on the ground, hands on the back of your heads.”

  The megaphone announcement was loud enough for everyone to hear even over twenty revving engines. For a split second everyone froze, then all hell let loose. Several bikes gunned for the exit. Shots were fired and the screech of metal on tarmac told Teddy that they were being taken out as they tried to escape. Reiker and some of the men surrounding him abandoned their bikes and retreated to the abattoir. Teddy followed them, running hell for leather as dozens of armed men swarmed through the main gates, barking orders and firing warning shots.

  Teddy slipped beneath the roller door as it grated shut.

  “The back’s covered. There’s no fucking way out,” someone shouted, panic clear in his voice.

  “Then we hunker down and make sure we take a few of these fuckers out before they get us,” Reiker replied, his voice ice cold.

  Teddy met his eyes and saw only madness in their dark depths.

  “Form a circle, backs to each other and get ready to fire. No mercy. I’m going to set some grenade traps at the back.”

  Teddy waited a few seconds then followed Reiker. No one tried to stop him. He caught sight of Reiker as he disappeared around the corner of the corridor. Teddy moved back, hugging the wall. He peered around the corner. A grating in the floor had been lifted off and he could hear the scuffle of movement down the hole.

  “Fucking coward had his escape route planned all along.” Teddy walked to the edge of the hole. A rusting ladder descended into the darkness beneath. He rolled his eyes. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

  Teddy climbed down the ladder and dropped the last few feet to a concrete floor. Two tunnels, heading in opposite directions, stretched out to either side of him. He listened hard. A dim clang told him which route to take and he jogged into the tunnel. The floor was slimy with accumulated muck. Teddy guessed that the tunnels formed part of the abattoir’s drainage system. He didn’t think about what decaying parts he might be planting his boots in. Firing a gun in such close quarters would be insane so he pulled out Reiker’s knife and held it ready.

  Teddy rounded a corner and came face to face with Reiker. Gray light filtered from a grating above Reiker’s head.

  “Showing your true colors at last,” Reiker snarled. “I knew all along you weren’t into the faith.”

  Teddy kept a firm grip of his knife, eyeing the barrel of the snub-nosed revolver in Reiker’s hand. “So, why let me tag along?”

  “You were the perfect evidence to leave behind us. Your corpse would have given local law enforcement all they needed to blame biker gangs for the killings.”

  “Charming. And there was me thinking we were gonna be best buddies.” Teddy bent his knees slightly, ready to spring.<
br />
  “If you weren’t fucking queer, you’d be ideal to breed. Increase the Aryan population before it gets wiped out by immigrant disease.”

  “You really are a moron, aren’t you? We’re the immigrants in this country.”

  “Natural selection puts us at the top of the food chain. Our place is to rule.”

  Teddy spat some of the sour taste from his mouth. He focused on Reiker’s trigger finger as it squeezed. The retort of the gun in the confined space was deafening. Burning heat grazed Teddy’s neck. The bullet hit the wall behind him and fragments of brick showered everywhere. Teddy leaped forward. He took Reiker to the ground and they wrestled frantically in the slime. Teddy had more weight but Reiker was desperate and fought like a madman, scratching and gouging at Teddy’s face. It was impossible to get any purchase on the ground. Teddy grasped Reiker’s hair and banged his head against the floor. They rolled in a tangled mess of limbs. Teddy almost lost the knife but kept control and aimed for Reiker’s eye. Reiker grabbed Teddy’s wrist and fought back. Teddy wrenched free, flipped the knife and used the handle like a hammer, bringing it down hard on Reiker’s temple. Reiker went limp beneath him. Teddy collapsed onto Reiker’s unconscious form, gasping for breath.

  After a couple of minutes’ recovery time, Teddy got to his feet. He dragged Reiker’s body by one ankle back to the tunnel shaft, then hefted him over a shoulder and climbed the ladder. He was vaguely aware of men surrounding the access point as his head emerged. He climbed out and dumped his burden.

  “Fuck, the bastard’s heavy.” He bent forward and put his hands on his knees, drawing in deep gulps of air. A hand connected with his ass.

  “Hey! That’s police brutality.” Teddy grinned and turned toward his favorite sheriff. “Hello, baby. Knew that had to be you.”

  Adrian’s face went an interesting shade of crimson. “Gentlemen, I’ll take care of this miscreant.”

  Teddy gestured at Reiker’s prone form. “That piece of shit is the leader of the Knights. He was attempting to save his own ass. I decided it was too early for him to leave the party.” Four burly, heavily armed men took hold of a limb each and carted Reiker away. Teddy faced Adrian feeling more nervous than he had staring down the barrel of Reiker’s gun.