by Mel Odom
“-had a daddy,” Tyrel continued.
Through the haze that swirled inside his head and muddied his thoughts, Shel tried to get a sense of what his father was trying to tell him. He felt like he was going to have to defend himself for shooting Bobby Lee.
Instead, Tyrel said, “I knew that boy’s daddy. He’s a vicious man, Shelton. He’s one of the devil’s own. You’re going to need to watch your six for a while. And if there’s a way you can punch Victor Gant’s ticket for him, you might just be better off for the doing of it.”
Shel barely breathed. He couldn’t believe what his daddy was telling him.
“You hear me, boy?” Tyrel growled.
“Yes, Daddy,” Shel whispered.
“You watch yourself for the next little while. And you take care of Don, too. He ain’t like you and me. He looks more for the gentle side of things. He ain’t gonna know how to look for somebody like Victor Gant. You hear me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“It’d be better if you sent him on outta there and got him outta the line of fire,” Tyrel said. “And tell them friends of yours to watch out for themselves too. If Victor Gant can’t get at you, he’ll take what he can.”
Shel listened to the thud of his heart banging inside his chest. How does my daddy know someone like Victor Gant? Shel couldn’t think clearly enough at the moment to reason that out.
“Well,” Tyrel said, “I reckon that’s all I got to say. Now that I said it, I’m gonna go to bed. If you had any sense, you’d do the same instead of lying awake at all hours of the night.”
“Yes, sir,” Shel said, but even before he got the words out of his mouth, Tyrel had hung up. Shel took the phone from his face and gazed at perplexedly.
“Shel,” Don said softly.
“Yeah.”
“What did Daddy want?”
“To tell me to watch my six,” Shel said numbly.
“Your six?”
Shel tossed Don the phone. “My rear flank. He told me to look out for trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“From Victor Gant.”
Don took a moment to reason that out and connect the dots. “The father of the young man you shot?”
“Yeah.”
“Why would Daddy call you to tell you that?”
“He said Victor Gant is one of the devil’s own. He said Victor Gant would come after me for killing his boy.”
“I think Commander Coburn knows that,” Don said.
“Probably. Will’s a smart man.”
Don looked puzzled for a moment. “How did Daddy know about Victor Gant?”
“He said he knew him.”
“Daddy?”
Shel nodded.
“How would Daddy know a man like that?”
“That is the question, isn’t it?” Shel lay back on the pillow, but he knew he wasn’t going to get any more sleep that night.
v
28
›› Sheraton Hotel
›› Charlotte, North Carolina
›› 0639 Hours
Will rolled over in bed and grabbed his iPAQ phone from the nightstand. “Coburn.”
“Aren’t you up yet?”
It took Will a moment to recognize Police Chief Tarlton’s voice. The man sounded entirely too awake and happy for it to be the time that showed on the PDA’s viewscreen.
“No,” Will answered. He slitted his eyes against the weak sunlight hammering the eastern balcony windows. The drapes only blunted part of the brightness. “Is Shel-?”
“Everybody at the hospital is fine,” Tarlton said. “Besides your people, I okayed some of my guys for OT.”
“I appreciate that.”
“No problem. Since you’re going to help me stir up my favorite hornet’s nest and rile the FBI, it’s the least I could do.”
Despite the lack of sleep, the worry, and the fatigue he felt, Will couldn’t help but grin. “I’m going to do all that, am I?”
“Oh yeah. In fact, you’re going to love the next little thing that dropped onto our plates during the night.”
Will waited.
“That’s the part where you’re supposed to ask me what happened,” Tarlton said. “Kind of a prompt.”
“I’m patient,” Will said.
“Guess what was broken into last night?”
“I don’t have a clue.”
“The county medical examiner’s office.”
Thoughts circled through Will’s mind, and he didn’t like how any of them were shaping up.
“Want to guess who broke in?” Tarlton said. “I’m discovering that you’re lousy at prompts.”
“Victor Gant,” Will said.
“Yep.”
“But that doesn’t make sense.”
“We’re not exactly dealing with a logical person here,” Tarlton said. “You need to keep that in mind.”
“Was Gant caught on the premises?”
“No. That would have tidied up what we had planned for the day.”
“If you could have sold the judge on it.”
“I think I could have. But Gant breaking into the county medical examiner’s office gives us a free move. So to speak.”
“The medical examiner’s office is under county jurisdiction.”
“Yes.” The smile was evident in Tarlton’s voice. “Guess who’s going to be riding shotgun with us today?”
“The sheriff.”
“Yep. He’s an old fishing buddy. After I got the particulars of this, we agreed that a joint effort by the city and county was required. We also decided that the NCIS could stand the heat too.”
Will smiled. “Because you know that busting Gant today is going to irritate Urlacher.”
“Nolan-that’s the sheriff-and I figured you and yours could ride along. When it comes to matching up federal muscle, we thought maybe you could handle Urlacher and the FBI.”
“Because Bobby Lee Gant’s body is property of the NCIS as evidence.”
“Exactly. How soon can you be down to Alice’s Cafe?”
“I don’t know where that is.” Will stood and started grabbing clothing from his duffel bag.
Tarlton gave him directions.
“Why are we meeting there?” Will asked.
“Because we don’t want the bad guys to figure out what we’re going to do,” Tarlton said. “And so Nolan and I can have a piece of pie while we’re waiting on you. It’ll take you ten minutes to get here.”
›› 0643 Hours
Will knocked on the adjoining room door and said his name, then used a key card to disengage the lock. Slowly he pushed the door open.
Remy was sitting up in bed with his pistol gripped in both hands. His eyes were red-rimmed with sleep. Max sat on the bed beside him. The Labrador’s head was lifted, and his ears were pricked.
“Tarlton found a lever we can use to get over on Victor Gant,” Will announced. “We’re rolling in five minutes. You’ll need your riot gear. Meet me in the parking lot.”
Remy nodded and said, “I brought my gear with me. Never go anywhere without it.” He pushed out of bed like he’d had eight hours of sleep and walked over to a duffel on the desk.
SEALs, Will thought in disgust as he went back to his own room. He figured he’d be lucky to beat Remy to the car.
›› 0647 Hours
By the time Will was ready, Remy was leaning against the bumper of the gray Taurus with his arms folded and looking totally alert. Max lay in a black pool of fur at his feet.
Will opened the trunk, and Remy threw in his riot gear duffel. They moved to the front of the car and climbed in. Max took the backseat, then hung his head between them.
“Didn’t know you got Max last night.” Will started the car and let it idle for a moment.
“Swung by the hospital. Figured I’d get him out for a bit today. There’s a park not far from here.”
“I’m surprised Max left.”
“Shel told him to.”
“I
’m surprised the nurses let him go. From what I’ve heard, they’re practically ready to adopt Max as the hospital mascot.” Will put the transmission in reverse and backed out.
Remy grinned as he adjusted his wraparound sunglasses. “This dog’s got stealth ninja moves those nurses have never seen. I’d swear he’s been SEAL-trained.”
“How’s Shel?”
“Groggy. Sore. Ready to get out of the hospital.”
Will knew that would be true. He accelerated, halted at the parking lot’s edge for a moment, then merged with traffic.
“Shel seemed a little distracted, though,” Remy said.
“Did he?”
“Yeah. His brother was there. Sleeping. Shel and I talked, but he didn’t say what was on his mind.”
“He came close to getting killed,” Will said. “That usually brings me up short.”
“Maybe, but this is Shel. It didn’t happen, so it doesn’t matter.”
“True.” Will shot through traffic.
“We’re in a hurry?” Remy asked.
“We are.” Will tapped the brake, then accelerated around a delivery truck and briefly took the inside lane again. “So you think Shel has something on his mind?”
“Yep. On the way out of the hospital, I called Estrella and let her know. If anybody can get that jarhead to talk about the warm and fuzzy of his life, it’s her.”
Will silently agreed. Shel and Estrella had been close ever since Shel had been assigned to the team. They shared a bond that partly came out of the language they shared, but he knew it was more than that too.
“Where are we headed so early?” Remy asked. “The PD is back the other way.”
As he drove, Will explained.
›› Alice’s Cafe
›› Kings Drive
›› Charlotte, North Carolina
›› 0656 Hours
“Well,” Remy said a few minutes later, “nobody’s going to miss them. It looks like a law enforcement convention.”
Will had to agree. Police cars and sheriff’s deputies’ vehicles filled the small parking area around Alice’s Cafe and spilled over into the surrounding neighborhood. There was a mix of sedans and off-road vehicles, and Will could see a mix of police uniforms and sheriff’s uniforms on the men standing by the cars.
“Do you think there are enough of them?” Remy asked with a grin.
“Victor Gant’s biker club is pretty deep in manpower too.” Will pulled in behind Tarlton’s car as the police chief flagged him down.
“Morning, Agent Coburn,” Tarlton greeted. “This is Sheriff Nolan Greene.” He indicated the tall, heavyset man in a sheriff’s uniform.
Greene stood nearly six and a half feet tall and was built like a bear. He looked as though he was in his late forties. Gray brushed at his temples and robbed the color from his sandy-red hair. Freckles covered his round face. He wore a Sam Browne belt that supported a Desert Eagle. 44 Magnum.
“Nolan’s big enough to go hunting bears with a switch,” Tarlton said, “but he still packs that hand cannon.” He handed Will a white paper bag. “I figured you guys didn’t take time for breakfast.”
“No.” Will dug into the bag and found it held biscuit sandwiches with sausage, breakfast steak, bacon, ham, and eggs. “Thanks.” He took one of the biscuits and passed the bag on to Remy.
Tarlton handed him a tall cup of coffee.
“Benny’s always had this thing for tea parties,” Greene growled with mock sarcasm.
“Don’t want to miss breakfast,” Tarlton said. “Most important meal of the day.”
Remy took a biscuit out and flipped it to Max. The Labrador caught the biscuit but didn’t make it disappear until Remy gave him the command that it was all right.
“Army dog?” Greene asked.
“No, sir,” Remy replied. “This is a Marine.”
“Better-looking than some I’ve met,” Greene acknowledged, with a quick glance at Tarlton.
›› 0701 Hours
“Victor Gant is holed up in a closed warehouse,” Tarlton said. He pointed at the location on the street map spread across the hood of his car. “This neighborhood we’re in, Cherry, is an older one. I won’t bore you with the history, but it’s had its ups and down.”
Will was vaguely familiar with the neighborhood’s history. Cherry was one of Charlotte’s older neighborhoods and had shuffled back and forth between affluence and poverty and between black and white and was currently being torn between private residences and strip malls.
“Factories and houses have come and gone around this neighborhood,” Tarlton said. “Back in the 1960s, the building in question was a machine shop. Supplied the war effort over in Vietnam. Back in the day, it offered a lot of jobs and helped stabilize the economy. In the 1990s, it went bust. A few other businesses tried locating there. Mom-and-pop shops. Storage facilities. Nothing worked. Then the Purple Royals bought it.”
“The motorcycle gang bought the building?” Remy asked.
Tarlton nodded. “Some of the biker gangs have put down legitimate roots. Set businesses up as fronts and even tax shelters. Hard to get popped on a vagrancy charge when you can prove you’re employed somewhere.”
“What do they do there?” Will asked.
“It’s a machine shop, mostly. That’s what the lower floors are. Victor Gant hired a company to broker jobs for these guys.” Tarlton grinned. “They’re so law-abiding there that they pay taxes.”
“Anybody ever gone in there for a look around?”
“Yeah. Place is run well. It’s legit. Never found any drugs or contraband there.”
“They could use it as a chop shop,” Remy suggested.
Tarlton nodded. “They could. But I’ve never found any evidence that they do. They’ve even got a speed shop in the northeast corner of the building. Custom headers. Rims. Tires. The works. All legit.”
“The cover is tight,” Will said.
“That’s what I’m saying. We’ll have to be careful inside.”
“You’re sure Victor Gant is there?”
“I know he is. After I talked to the kid at the medical examiner’s office, I put one of my undercover guys on the site. He let me know Gant showed up there a couple hours ago.”
Will took that in. “You’ve got a warrant for Gant?”
“I do. Judge Carson signed off on a warrant for Gant’s arrest for assault and for breaking and entering. The lock on the ME’s office was juked.”
“Any evidence there?”
“Not yet. I’ve got a crime team looking for a matchup.”
“But you have Gant solid on the assault charge?”
Tarlton nodded. “That’s dead-solid perfect. The kid from the ME’s office picked Gant out of a six-pack. Kid knew it was Gant by name before we gave him the pics.”
“How did he know that?”
“He’s been following the story.”
“How’s he doing?”
Tarlton shrugged. “He’s still in the ER. He’s got some bruises and a few stitches. The doc was talking about keeping him for a few more hours in case there’s a concussion. But he’s going to be all right.”
“If it comes to it, will he testify?”
“Yeah. He’s a stand-up kid.” Tarlton smiled a little. “He has visions of being a hero.”
“That’s not a bad thing,” Will said. “That’s why a lot of men get into this business.”
Will had come to the NCIS to get off shipboard duty and try to save his failing marriage. But he’d since learned a lot about the other law enforcement personnel and the passions that drove them.
“I always thought it was the cool uniforms,” Remy said with a straight face.
“They don’t come any cooler than the Marine Corps,” Tarlton said.
“Marines can’t touch Navy dress whites, Chief.”
“When are we going to do this?” Will interrupted before the friendly banter could continue.
“Well,” Tarlton said, “there’s no time like
the present.” He folded the map. “Let’s roll.”
29
›› Hawthorne Machine Shop
›› Hawthorne Lane
›› Charlotte, North Carolina
›› 0729 Hours
Hawthorne Machine Shop sat back in a stand of old oak trees whose branches scraped the metal top of the two-story building. It was a rectangular cinder block building with a simple sign over the front of the north side that advertised Hawthorne Speed Shop. A black-and-white checkered flag hung above the doorway to the speed shop. A large window showed a selection of tires, rims, and other accessories in bright, gleaming chrome.
The west end of the building held another sign, announcing the presence of the Hawthorne Machine Shop. Both signs looked similar, standing on rectangular surfaces that were attached to the building by supports.
Both businesses were open.
“We got civilians on the premises,” Tarlton announced over the radio headsets.
At the back of the Taurus, Will and Remy suited up in the riot gear. In addition to helmets and Kevlar vests with NCIS Agent stenciled on the back, they also wore shoulder and knee protective gear and gloves to protect against abrasions and impacts.
Will and Remy used the buddy system, each checking the other off on the prep list as they readied themselves. Will carried one XD-40 on his right hip and another under his left arm.
Remy carried two Beretta M9s in the same positions.
Both of them left their M4 assault rifles in the equipment duffels, but they picked up chopped-down Mossberg pump-action shotguns that held five rounds and sported skeletal folding wire stocks.
“You ready?” Tarlton asked.
Will nodded. Adrenaline flooded his body, but he was used to the feeling and concentrated on his breathing. Remy was as relaxed as if he were out for a Sunday walk.
Lord, Will prayed quietly, keep us safe and let us do no harm.
After a brief radio check, they followed Tarlton’s SWAT team onto the premises.
Will’s stomach clenched in anticipation of what was about to take place.
Trying to fight the police and sheriff’s department would be foolish, and Victor Gant was no fool, but Will knew the man was ruthless.