Tarnished Steel

by Carmen Faye

  Roughly at the center of this upstairs balcony area was a door marked “Management,” and that’s where Hank directed himself.

  Knight had this room added on to the building when he put in the restroom facilities up there. The room was much larger than you would expect it to be from looking at its position and eying the wall lines. In fact, it felt a little Alice In Wonderland when you first stepped inside.

  The second thing you were surprised by when you came into this room and got over its size was the number of house plants, both hanging and sitting on various shelves and cabinets.

  Knight had a serious green thumb, and one of his favorite hobbies was hydroponics, but he rarely spoke about it. The only way a person might come across this information was to be invited to Knight’s house, which was a rare occurrence.

  Hank had been there eleven times, and each invitation was more surprising an offer than the previous. When Knight wanted solitude, he went home. All of his business and most of his social life was spent here. You could easily believe, with no reason for doubt, that Knight lived in this building and didn’t even have another house he called home. In fact, Hank knew several of Knight’s lovers never woke up in his bed, but rather only in his bunkhouse room up here.

  Hank made his way to the visiting chairs in front of Knight’s desk and sat down while Knight clicked the keys of a huge laptop keyboard with dexterous, thick fingers, finishing something. Hank waited patiently, letting memories of Cyn dance in his head.

  “I take it your return heralds some success,” Knight suggested, continuing to type.

  “Not just some, but I think a real solution to the problem,” Hank told his president.

  Knight stopped typing and looked at Hank. “A real solution?”

  “Total reprisal,” Hank said.

  Knight leaned back from the laptop, giving Hank his full attention. “Within the bounds I laid out?”

  “Not even close to stepping past the lines.”

  “This is much more than I expected,” Knight admitted.

  “A great deal more than I set out to do as well. My personal goals, the ones I felt would be good enough, are a pittance to what I uncovered and have planned,” Hank said.

  “From another man, I might expect hubris to be a factor here, but I feel you are perhaps even downplaying your achievement,” Knight told him.

  “Well, why don’t I lay it all out for you, and then you can see if my estimations are correct.”

  “Yes,” Knight agreed. “Let me send this email off, and then I can give my full attention to you.” Before Knight turned back to the laptop, though, he called down to the bar and asked for chips, salsa, and a large pitcher of beer to be brought up, and for someone to stand on “Do-Not-Disturb” duty on his office door until he released them.

  “Do Not Disturb” duty paid a hundred an hour, so there were plenty of men willing to sit outside Knight’s door, drink a little beer, and keep anyone else from coming near.

  Knight fired off his email and was about to close his laptop when Hank stopped him. Hank pulled out a USB thumb drive and gave it to the older man, who deftly connected the drive and brought up its contents.

  “Just some maps, digital photos, and notes that I’ve made regarding the plan I developed. Read them at your leisure. The main part of the plan is based on Orlin’s use of a tracking device to guide his delivery planes across the border to the temporary landing strips. The device is basically a cellphone with a GPS hook-up. At first I thought it would be a hassle to duplicate, perhaps even impossible, but I’ve already procured a duplicate and put it through a test run with success.”

  “This is that device here?” Knight asked, pulling up one of the digital photos.

  “Yes, that’s it. It’s not very large. In fact, it can be easily put into his jacket pocket and kept there during the whole operation. No bigger than a small cellphone,” Hank said.

  “Why doesn’t he just use a cellphone? Why this device?”

  “This device runs on a different frequency, and it is nigh impossible to snatch out of the air amidst all the other signals bouncing around those canyons and mesas. The plane’s hound receiver gives the pilot a map display and pinpoints Orlin’s signal within a meter of his real position.”

  “So, no talking, no communication of where Orlin is going to be to the pilot. The plane leaves, flying blind until Orlin broadcasts his location,” Knight said.

  “Exactly,” Hank agreed. “Which is perfect, really. No need for extraneous bullshit, which most of the time only opens up opportunities for mistakes and DEA tracking. Also, the pilot cannot be forced to give information he doesn’t have.”

  “How much are we looking at here?” Knight asked, pulling up a digital photo of the plane — a twin engine cargo design.

  “Two to three hundred kilos.”

  Knight’s jaw dropped a little as he quickly did the math. “That’s a little over eight million, Hank.”

  “Like I said,” Hank assured him, “total reprisal.”

  Knight nodded. “Alright. Let’s delve into the details.”

  For the next two hours, Hank told his elder everything: all the places things might go wrong and what he had in place to deal with those possibilities.

  Afterward, Knight sat back from the keyboard. He leaned back in his chair, looking at the white painted slats and exposed beams of his roof. “This really is far more than I expected from your operation, Hank, far more. And as you suggested, it’s well within the bounds I gave you. From this point, until we have a hand-picked crew for the pickup, you are a ghost in this matter. If even a breath of this is whispered into Orlin’s ear, the whole club could be in trouble and war could be imminent.”

  “I was thinking the same thing, especially since I am going to be required to maintain my position and standing with Orlin before vanishing completely out of his world,” Hank agreed.

  “You have an exit plan?” Knight asked.

  “Yes, a good one, and a backup,” Hank said. “I’ll need a half-mil from the proceeds, after. Is that agreeable?”

  “No,” Knight told him, sitting up to his desk again and putting his forearms down on the surface, “but a full mil would be.”

  “That seems a bit much,” Hank mumbled.

  “It’s not,” Knight told him, “and both Howey and Margaret would agree with me. This is going to hurt him and cripple his confidence in his staff and procedures. This will likely put an end to several of his enforcers as he searches for the hole in his security. You are going to need to exit cleanly. A mil is going to come in very handy once Orlin gets to searching his hacienda for mice.”

  “Alright,” Hank agreed. “What I don’t use I can always bring back.”

  Knight nodded at the large man’s doubt regarding his own worth in this matter and smiled. “So, the lower the profile you cast around here for a while, the better. Maybe you can talk that little red filly into a ride with you up the coast and some one-on-one time away from club politics. She’s a good one, by the way. Probably a keeper, just so you know up front. You haven’t been looking to be tied down in the past, so consider yourself fairly warned.”

  “Think she’s casting a loop then, do ya?” Hank grinned.

  “Nope,” Knight told him. “I think you will be, once you’ve spent some time with her. How are you with cash?”

  “Drug running pays pretty well. I’ve got quite a wad in my pocket, and more in hidden stashes for just-in-case emergencies,” Hank assured him. “Rent is paid up for a year, gas and electric has a nice budget of pre-paid monies. I think I’m ready for either hibernation or clean getaway riding, whichever is required.”

  “No temptations of keeping the lifestyle? No qualms about the plan?” Knight asked.

  “Hell no,” Hank told him, clenching his fist. “In fact, it’s taken quite a bit of restraint not to cross your boundaries and put a large hole in Orlin’s head — him and that fucking Ernando. But, this isn’t about me; it’s about Howey and Margaret. So
, I’ve kept to the objective and the boundaries. The sooner we’re done though, the better.”

  Knight studied him. “Your cool thinking under highly emotional situations is the reason I asked you to do this and not one of the others. Anything else?”

  “Not really. Like I said, I’ve got some notes in there you can read as you like. Basically, they are mental debates and theories regarding my exit plan, the drop hijacking, and the rest of our goals.”

  “Then, welcome back, and we’ll start moving this forward. Good job. Very good job,” Knight told him. “Let the man out there know I need at least another two hours of “Do Not Disturb” time.”

  “No problem,” Hank said, and he left the office.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Cynthia was more or less a wreck when she got home. She couldn’t concentrate worth shit, and had to put her laptop down and admit that she was not going to get what she wanted to get done today. She was well ahead of schedule, so a few hours off weren’t going to kill her.

  If her phone didn’t ring soon, the suspense might kill her, though. How long could a fucking meeting with Knight take, for crying out loud! It wasn’t like they could be discussing matters of state or something! Well…they couldn’t, right? If Hank was an important member of the club, he would have shown up more often than this.

  There was a standing officer’s meeting on Tuesdays at seven o’clock, which she usually rode down to in order to hear the outcomes announced. They were things like when the next weekend day run was happening, and where, an any news on the large run that was coming up in April, which was only seven weeks away now.

  Sequoia National Park was the destination. The more she heard about it, the more she knew she was in. The plan was for a whole week, but she could ride up, spend a few days in a hotel getting some work done, and then ride back down with the group.

  She really loved that about her job. As long as she had her laptop and Internet access, it really didn’t matter where she was. She could be in Sydney for all her clients cared, just as long as the manuscripts were polished and ready for the publishers on time.

  Anyway, she never saw Hank at any of these meetings or waiting for announcements at the bar below. Nothing. She was sure she would have remembered, him too.

  Larry obviously knew him and was even close friends with him, which in Cyn’s mind was a huge green light for getting closer to Hank. She liked Larry and respected his view and evaluations. This might have had something to do with Larry’s evaluations often coinciding with her gut feelings about someone.

  One night, Derrick was mouthing off about how you never knew if a brother was going to watch your back until the moment the shit hit the fan, and Larry leaned to her and said, “I would never trust that asshole to watch my back, or yours,” confirming her own thoughts about Derrick.

  “I think I would be more worried about him than the possible threat,” Cyn replied with a grin.

  Larry wasn’t smiling when he agreed and said, “True story. No matter what he says, or how well he says it, you would be wise to remember that Derrick Unger is only concerned about Derrick. And if he ever perceives that you have done him a wrong, he’ll talk about it incessantly to anyone who will listen. He’s never actually rolled over on anyone in the club, but he’s said enough that it really doesn’t matter.”

  Cyn studied Larry’s face. “It sounds like there is a story attached to that.”

  “There is, and eventually Derrick will come back around and begin his triads about it, too. Then he’ll probably get his ass kicked a few more times, and lay off it again for a while.”

  Cyn tried to make sense of this. “If he’s gone that far, well, why is he still a patch-holder?”

  “Because the one who is directly affected by these tirades and loose lip conversations with cops and detectives hasn’t pressed for tribunal. If he had, Derrick wouldn’t be here, I can guarantee that. Also, Derrick and Daphne are responsible for bringing in most of the new blood over the last year, including you.”

  “I would have found this place the next weekend anyway. I was had already planned on exploring the rural routes east of my place,” Cyn told him. “What do you think of Daphne?”

  Larry thought about this and said, “Nice ass, great tits, and unfortunate taste in men. She’s a rumor hound, but mostly harmless and sometimes quite useful. She doesn’t hang on men that aren’t hers. She hasn’t cheated on Derrick that I know of. She worked weekends here as a waitress for almost two years — took it seriously, worked hard, never expected an ounce of leniency because we were her friends. Consequently, she made very good tips and earned a greater level of respect from the club in general.”

  “Good,” Cyn said. “Good, because I really like her. She’s fun to be around and has a great sense of humor, though a little dirty.”

  “If I recall, you aren’t a virgin in that area of humor,” Larry told her.

  Cyn had laughed at that — but she wasn’t laughing about another hour going by with still no phone call from Hank.

  “Shit!”

  Then her phone rang, and she pounced on it like a tigress. “Hello?” she managed to say in a distracted, almost bored voice.

  “Oh, I must have the wrong number,” Hank’s voice said. “You sound much too bored. I’m looking for the woman who just dove onto her couch for the phone, nearly bounced back on the floor, and could barely answer but managed to do so under an explosion of tousled hair. Is she around?”

  Cyn used her hand to flip her hair back out of her face and looked wildly around. “Where the fuck are you?”

  “Not around, I take it,” Hank continued to tease. “That’s a shame. She and I could get along really well. Phenomenally, in fact.”

  “Seriously, where, the, fuck, are, you?” Cyn said, getting up and looking out her front window.

  “Across the street, lass.”

  “How the fuck did you know where I lived?” Cyn asked.

  “Well, because you live right across the street from me. Isn’t that a coincidence. I saw your red bike in your drive just as I was turning off the road to run up to my place. I figured I would walk down and knock on your door, but when I got to the street, I changed my mind. I decided it would be better to give you a heads up and avoid the stalker theories before I came over. But that diving lunge for the phone, that was quite unexpected.”

  “Saw that, did you?” She smiled.

  “Couldn’t miss it even if I tried,” he said. “Quite the voice actress as well. That is, if you were going for the, I don’t really care if he calls or not, since I already have a full life, performance.”

  Cyn bit her lip. “So are you just going to stand out there, giving the play-by-play? Or are you going to join the game, cowboy.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  She saw him now, and she watched him cross the street with that road god stride of his to the bottom of her drive, where he said, “It looks like quite a game. I think I can make a good showing of myself, though. Any particular rules involved, or is it free play?”

  “If it comes off, it stays off,” she told him with much more boldness than she felt. “And hesitant kissing is an extreme foul.”

  “A game of boldness and strong movements. Definitely where my skills lie,” Hank declared.

  “Passive groping is another foul which could end the game,” she warned him.

  “Only authentic desires displayed by clear and distinct actions. Sounds like high risk but with fantastical rewards,” he said as he came up on her porch. “Nearly there. Anything else before I throw myself to the wolves?”

  “If you bother to knock, the game will be called on grounds of mental incapacity,” she told him with a laugh, she and hung up in time to see him come inside, tossing his own phone toward hers on the couch. Before she could think of what to do, he swooped her up into a kiss with more ease than she had ever experienced before.

  She had already changed out of her lace-up leather vest and into one of the large t-shirts she wore around
the house like short dresses. This was normal work attire for her, but it also meant she was only wearing the shirt and a pair of panties. With his display of willingness to jump into her game and the state of arousal she noticed he was in as he came through the door, she felt the likelihood of remaining clothed for another two minutes was minuscule.

  So rather than attempt to defend, she attacked.

  She squirmed suddenly in his cradling arms, enough to break free and fall to the floor, where she spun and pounced, grabbing his leather vest and yanking it back onto his arms, forcing him to shrug out of it or be tied up by it. Then she kissed him furiously while pulling his t-shirt from his pants, yanking it up as soon as their lips parted.