Treat: Steel Saints MC

by Evelyn Glass

  “Hey, you… asshole,” Jack called, and all four men stopped. “What’s the code to unlock your phone?”

  “I will have to show you.”

  “Nobody move,” Jack said as he picked up the phone and carried with him to the man. He put his gun directly to the man’s head. “Stand up.”

  The man stood and Jack handed him the phone. He drew the pattern to unlock the phone—a simple one, easily remembered. Jack took the phone from him. “Back on your knees.”

  He followed the man down with his gun and then stepped back. “Okay. Get out of here.”

  “Why did you let them go and why did you keep his phone?” Tina asked after the men drove away.

  “They’re just punks. They aren’t worth the trouble to kill, and I didn’t want the police involved. I kept the phone because I am going to try Goremykin on it and see if he answers.”

  “Did you notice the number has an Albuquerque area code?”

  “Yeah. That worries me too. Why would a Russian have a New Mexico area code? Or an American phone number at all?”

  “I don’t know. You don’t suppose…?”

  “I know what you are thinking. And… I have to admit, it doesn’t look good. But who is it?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know who to trust,” Tina lamented.

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  Jack tried several times the next morning to reach Goremykin until he finally gave up. “What a bunch of shit,” Jack muttered as he pitched the stolen phone into a dumpster at the motel.

  “What now?” Tina asked.

  “Now… I have to decide who I can trust,” he said as he pulled his own cell out of his pocket. “Seth… Jack. Call me when you get this message.”

  “Do you think he did it?”

  “Don’t know. That’s what I hope to find out.”

  Twenty minutes later Jack’s phone rang. “Hey, Jack. What can I do for you? How’d the inspection go?”

  “Funny you should ask that. Someone tried to double cross us. The agent was a stooge. He came back later and tried to steal the cars.”

  Seth was quiet for several moments. “Since you know that, I assume they didn’t get the cars?”

  “No. I moved them before they got there and I was waiting on him.”

  “Did you kill him?” Seth asked after another long pause.

  “No.”

  “Did he tell you who he worked for?”

  “He said Goremykin, but…”

  “But what?”

  “But the phone number… it was an American phone number with an ABQ area code.”

  “…What are you saying, Jack?”

  “I’m saying that something more is going on here than meets the eye.”

  “Jack… I know what you are thinking, but it wasn’t me, I swear! I just passed the information along to Goremykin! I wouldn’t cross the Sons! I wouldn’t!”

  Jack stewed for a moment. He wanted to believe Seth, but there had been too many leaks. “Get me Goremykin’s number. I’ll deal with him directly from this point forward.”

  “I understand. But… that removes all the checks and balances we have in place to prevent someone from—”

  “I know,” Jack interrupted. “But right now, I don’t know who I can trust. And to be honest, Seth, you, and the rest of the Sons, are in no position to question my loyalty. Twice someone has crossed us, and until I find out who that person is, you are just going to have to trust me.”

  “I will need to talk to the rest of the Sons, Jack. If you have Goremykin’s number, you will have the cars and access to the buyer. You could…”

  “I’m the only one that knows where the cars are. It’s my way or no way,” Jack said, his voice stone hard.

  “I will call a meeting tonight and let you know what we decide.”

  “You do that,” Jack said before he hung up.

  “Well?”

  “I don’t trust anyone,” he said, then smiled at her. “Present company excluded of course.”

  ***

  Tina looked at Jack as they sat on the bed in a loose embrace. They were watching a documentary on the evolution of motorcycles on the television… at least, she was. Jack appeared to be staring into space. He had brooded all day. Not that she blamed him. Someone in his organization, someone he thought of as his friend, had probably crossed them. Twice.

  “It’s Marshall,” he said when he looked at his ringing phone. “Jack.”

  “Jack. Marshall. Seth is here with me. We voted and it was unanimous. Are you ready for the number?” Jack snapped his fingers and pointed at the paper and pen on Tina’s side of the bed. “Ready.”

  Marshall read him the number, which he repeated back.

  “We also decided that from this point on, there has to be at least two Sons on every conversation.”

  “Good thinking,” Jack said. His voice was still cool, but not as cold and hard as it had been.

  “Jack… I’m really sorry this has happened. I’ve let you down.”

  “We both have,” Seth’s voice added.

  “I’ll find out who crossed us, Jack, I promise you that. And when I do…” Marshall continued, his voice deadly.

  “Don’t do anything stupid,” Jack warned.

  “Don’t worry,” Marshall said. “I’ll only make them wish I had killed them.”

  In spite of himself, he smiled. Marshall was a bulldog and he carried a grudge. He wouldn’t want him on his tail because he would never let it go. “Okay. Just don’t get carried away and end up in prison, okay?”

  “You worry about the cars. I’ll worry about the bastard that sold us out. If it was one of us, I will find him. Or her.”

  “Good enough. I will be in touch.”

  “That seemed to go well,” Tina said, picking up on Jack’s improved mood.

  “Yeah. I hate this! It’s so hard for me to believe it was one of the Sons, but who else could it be?”

  “I don’t know. I’m sorry, Jack.” She felt bad for him as she recalled her own betrayal in Roswell. He had stood fast and true as everyone around him, even her, had violated his trust.

  He could read the sadness in her eyes and knew what she was thinking. “Don’t even go there. We talked about what happened. You’re the only person I can fully trust now. I need you to be strong for me.”

  Tina studied him and she could feel her heart melt at his words. “I will never let you down again. I promise.”

  “I know,” he said as he kissed her lightly.

  ***

  Jack dialed the number Marshall gave him as Tina watched sleepily. It was approaching eleven, which made it almost ten in the morning in Moscow.

  “Goremykin,” a voice said with just a trace of British and Russian accent.

  “Mr. Goremykin. My name is Jack Carter. I have the Ferraris you are to purchase.”

  “How did you get this number, Mr. Carter?”

  “Your sales contact gave it to me. She works for me and I asked for it. We’ve had… a situation. And you and I need to speak openly and frankly.”

  “What situation?”

  “Your agent, the one you sent to inspect the cars before purchase, tried to steal the cars. I don’t like it when my customers try to cross me, Mr. Goremykin.”

  There was a long pause. “May I call you Jack?”

  “Yes.”

  “Jack… I haven’t dispatched my agent yet. I don’t know who arrived and said they represented me, but I assure you, I had nothing to do with it.”

  “They knew you by name.”

  “Perhaps so, but that changes nothing. People in your organization also know my name. Perhaps you should be concerned with your own people.”

  “Steps have been taken, Mr. Goremykin. That is why I am contacting you. You will be dealing with me directly now.”

  Again Goremykin paused, and Jack could sense him thinking. “Very well. Pyotr Rodchenko will be arriving tomorrow evening. He is one of my most trusted associates. He will identify himself and giv
e you a word. That word will be… Maranello. I will contact you later today with his flight information. You will deal exclusively with him or me.”

  Jack smiled. Maranello, Italy, is where Ferraris are made.

  “As a sign of my good faith, I will deposit one million dollars into your account, to be applied to the final selling price.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Goremykin. I will have one of my associates contact you with the wire information. But, so we are clear, if the money is not in our account, I will be a no show at the airport and I will let the GTO go to our other customer.”

  “That is acceptable.”

  “I look forward to doing business with you, Mr. Goremykin.”

  “And I with you, Jack.”

  Jack immediately dialed Greg’s number upon hanging up.

  “‘lo?” Greg’s sleepy voice came over the phone after a number of rings.

  “Greg. Jack. Get Goremykin the wire instructions. Do it now. Let me know the moment the million hits.”

  “Jack… there is nobody around to back me up,” he mumbled and yawned.

  “I’m backing you up. I’m telling you to do this and I am sending Marshall a text as soon as I hang up, telling him I told you to do this.”

  “Okay… Jack. I will send him the instructions in a few minutes,” Greg said, sounding more alert.

  “Good man! Make it happen, Greg.”

  “Go back to sleep, baby,” Greg said faintly before he came back strong. “I’ll do it now. He should have the information in fifteen or twenty minutes. Where do I send it?”

  Jack gave Greg Goremykin’s phone number.

  “Got it. I’ll text it to him right away.”

  “Thanks. Sorry to… interrupt.”

  Greg snorted. “No… we were done. But now that I’m up again…”

  Jack chuckled. “Just do the wire information first.”

  ***

  The chirp of his phone pulled Jack out of a deep sleep. He and Tina had tumbled into bed as soon as he finished texting Marshall. They hadn’t gotten enough sleep last night and had dropped off almost as soon as they became still.

  With a groan Jack picked up his phone and looked at the time. It was just minutes after two in the morning. “Jack,” he mumbled.

  “The money has been transferred,” Greg said.

  “Okay, thanks.”

  “You’ve done it, Jack. I wouldn’t have believed it, but you’ve fucking done it.”

  “We did it, Greg… we did it. I couldn’t have done it without everyone’s help.”

  “Whatever. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. And Jack…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks. I mean that.”

  “You’re welcome, Greg.”

  He clicked the phone off and laid it back on the table before he snuggled into Tina’s back… and was asleep again in moments.

  ***

  “I’m Pyotr Rodchenko. Mr. Goremykin sends his regards from Maranello,” the man said as he approached, his voice smooth and strong with just a trace of Russian accent. He was dressed in a dark business suit, but he radiated power, competence, and a hint of danger. Jack shook his hand.

  “He’s there to pick up his new Ferraris?” Jack asked.

  “That remains to be seen.”

  “This way, please. I have a car waiting.”

  Jack led Pyotr out, tossing the piece of paper with Pyotr’s name written on it into a trash bin as they walked. They had to wait a moment before Tina, who had been circling, pulled up in the Audi. Jack opened the front door and Pyotr slipped inside.

  “I’m going to blindfold you,” Jack said from the backseat.

  “I understand,” Pyotr said as calmly as if Jack had just told him it was going to rain.

  As they pulled away from the curb Jack slipped a piece of cloth around the man’s eyes and tied it off. Jack didn’t know who Pyotr Rodchenko was, but he was sure he didn’t want to meet the man in a dark alley.

  “We will be making six stops. Is there any order you would like to see the cars?”

  “The GTO first, if you please.”

  “You heard the man,” Jack said to Tina.

  ***

  “May we push it out into the sun?” Pyotr asked after the door rolled up to reveal the 1962 Ferrari GTO.

  “Uhhh…” Jack hesitated. The last thing they needed was for someone to see the car. “Babe, go back to the front gate. If anyone drives up, honk the horn, okay?”

  “Got it,” Tina said as she turned to the car.

  Jack and Pyotr pushed the car out of the storage unit into the bright California sunshine. Pyotr said nothing, and asked no questions, as he spent nearly an hour looking over the car as he referenced a small booklet. Finally he flipped the booklet closed and returned it to his jacket pocket. “I’m satisfied. Shall we return the car to the unit?”

  ***

  For the next four hours Tina and Jack shuttled Pyotr to each storage unit, Pyotr blindfolding himself after he completed the inspection of each car. While each car received a thorough look-over, none of the other five cars received the same careful inspection that the GTO did.

  “That is all of them, correct?” Pyotr asked as Jack locked the door behind the last of the cars.

  “That’s correct. Have you seen all you need to?”

  “Yes. You can drop me at my hotel, the Ritz-Carlton. I will call and report my findings to Mr. Goremykin.”

  While Pyotr tied his blindfold around his eyes, Jack walked to where Tina could see him and waved her back to them.

  “You can remove your blindfold now,” Jack said after they had driven for ten minutes.

  “Thank you,” Pyotr said as he removed the cloth and handed it to Jack.

  “Is there anything else we can do for you before we drop you off?” Tina asked. When Pyotr first sat in the car, he scared the shit out of her. She was a little better now since he hadn’t killed anyone, but he still made her nervous. He was like Jack when Jack was in his badass mode… but Pyotr was like that all the time.

  “Are you more than Jack’s driver?”

  Tina flushed in embarrassment. “Yes.”

  “Then no.”

  Jack smiled in the back seat. One thing about Pyotr… when he answered a question, you got a straight answer.

  ***

  “What do you think?” Tina asked Jack as he slid into the seat beside her while Pyotr walked away.

  “Unless they play games, this should be a done deal. The cars are what they are. We didn’t try to bullshit them or anything.”

  She blew out a puff pf air as tension oozed out of her. “That guy scares the shit out of me.”

  Jack chuckled as she pulled away from the hotel. “I know how you feel. He made me a little nervous too.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  “Jack! This is Marshall, Greg, and Seth. The money just arrived! The whole twenty-four million! You did it!”

  Jack smiled across the table at Tina. “That’s good news.” He and Tina were sitting in a cozy Italian restaurant enjoying a quiet dinner. “The money arrived,” he explained for her benefit.

  Tina felt a tingle, like an electric current was pouring through her body. They had done it! Jack had done the fucking impossible!

  “You know the drill. Hold the money until the customer takes delivery, but after that, distribute the cash and close down the accounts. We’re officially out of the car business.”

  “You got it boss,” Greg said. Jack could hear his smile all the way from New Mexico.

  “Tomorrow I will drop off the keys, and then Tina and I are disappearing. I can’t thank you—all of you—enough. It has been a real pleasure working with you.”

  “Same here, Jack,” Greg said. “I wish you didn’t have to go, but I can understand your reasoning. You’ll let us know where you end up?”