Resonance (Marauders #4)

by Lina Andersson

  “I’ll talk to her,” Tommy answered with a chuckle.

  He had no idea how to spin that one, but he wanted to make it happen. He should probably ask when Billie was in a really good mood, though. Maybe after a shower.

  *

  Tommy was at the clubhouse by ten thirty, and sat down with a newspaper he found lying around and a cup of coffee, while he waited for Brick and Mitch. He had a feeling Brick’s decision to bring him was simply to make him feel like he was contributing, but he was okay with that. He needed to feel that he was doing something, even if it was just standing around and flexing his muscles in front of a crooked police detective.

  He was surprised when he saw Mace come stumbling through the hallway, clearly hung over as hell. Then he figured it out.

  “Where’s Kathleen?” he asked.

  If Mace had spent the night at the clubhouse, it was because his old lady, Kathleen, was away, and it was quite possible she was somewhere highly unsafe. Judging by Mace’s hangover, that was the case, and Tommy was right.

  “Africa somewhere. She’s fine. She hired some badass bodyguards for when she goes to the more unstable areas, but she’s mostly in some UN camp interviewing women. They’re pretty well guarded.”

  He wasn’t as sure as Mace about the safety of the UN camps, but he figured there wasn’t any point in mentioning it. He was pretty sure Kathleen knew that, too, if she was working in them, and if she didn’t want Mace to know, Tommy didn’t want to be the one bursting the bubble. Mace probably knew anyway; Kathleen wasn’t much for working safe areas.

  “Ah,” he smiled. “Thought you getting pissdrunk might’ve had something to do with her being away.”

  “No, and I wasn’t that drunk. This here,” Mace pointed at his face, “is just about being old. So you’ve got something to look forward to.”

  “Thanks for that.”

  “You’re welcome,” Mace said and reached for the coffee pot. “With only one kidney, it might even be faster.”

  “Spreading the joy. So kind of you.”

  “You know me, the Marauders’ very own ray of sunshine. How’s the kid?”

  “Fine,” Tommy answered. “He’s doing great. Looks good, no signs of rejection or anything.”

  “That’s great.”

  Tommy looked at Mace who seemed to be settling in nicely by the bar with a magazine. Probably one with one of Kathleen’s articles in it; Mace wouldn’t bother with a magazine otherwise. Tommy shook his head. “Do you ever get to work on time?”

  “No. Not really. Perks of being older and all that. We get ugly as fuck, but we’re expected to be slower.”

  Mitch came to pick Tommy up not five minutes later, and Brick was already straddling his bike outside. They were meeting at a diner just outside Greenville. Tommy was surprised to see Roach on his bike and nodded towards him with a quizzical brow to Mitch.

  “Think Dad wants to test him out,” Mitch explained.

  “At something like this? Doubt there’s any trouble.”

  “Think it’s more in the does he know when to keep his fucking mouth shut area. And how he deals with the law.”

  That made more sense, but given how many words the kid had spoken so far, Tommy found it hard to believe he would chat away in front of a cop. On a ranking list of how much different groups hated cops, street kids were above bikers, without a doubt. In general, there was probably no other group of people who had less reason to trust any part of the government than street kids.

  The diner they were going to was called Rick’s Diner and looked like most of them did. They took a booth, and not five minutes later Gordon walked inside. He sat down with them, and looked at Roach.

  “Who’s the new star?” he asked Brick.

  “Does it matter?” Mitch asked him in return.

  They waited until their orders arrived, just coffee for all of them, and then Brick looked at Gordon, who put a file on the table.

  “I don’t get why you don’t just get this info yourself,” Gordon said to Mitch. “Not like you don’t have access to all the databases anyway.”

  “It’s nice to know that you know me, and sure, I’m an all-access kind of guy, but I like meeting you, Gordon,” Mitch answered with a big smile. “I just love our little chats. Don’t you?”

  “Fuck you.” Gordon slid a file across the table to Brick. “It hasn’t gone unnoticed, if that’s what you thought. Five patched-over clubs in less than a year makes people take notice.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing. They’re keeping an eye on you. It’s not illegal to patch over clubs—yet. They assume you want a presence on the west coast as well. Another guess is that your sudden friendliness with Smiling Ghouls is because you wanted their permission to expand so close to their territories. The Amsterdam trip was either something to seal the bond or finding new markets. Even if it’s a US club, it’s not a big secret that their Dutch clubs are the moneymakers—not that they can prove how. The Dutch authorities aren’t big on helping, either. They’ve developed a serious case of ignorance as far as outlaw bikers go.”

  Tommy assumed it was good news. If they thought the only reason they went to Amsterdam was to ‘seal the bond’ it meant they might not have picked up on the fact that the Marauders were smuggling more goods over the border and through the US than ever before.

  “Anything about surveillance?” Brick asked.

  The file was already off the table and presumably in Mitch’s bag. Brick often referred to it as Mitch’s man-bag, and Mitch kept saying it wasn’t a fucking man-bag. Tommy had to give it to Brick: it was a bag, and it was carried around by a man, so man-bag was an appropriate term. It was just a black canvas bag, with a shoulder strap, so it wasn’t anything special. If it hadn’t been for Brick’s comments, Tommy wouldn’t even have noticed it.

  “No surveillance,” Gordon answered Brick’s question. “Some ATF agent tried, but no one would sign it. They’re more interested in the Ghouls, and she figured she could get them through you, but from what I heard, no one thought it would work. They don’t think you’re doing actual business with them. The assumption is that they’re in guns and women, while you’re into other things.”

  “What other things?” Brick asked.

  “Pot,” Gordon said and took a sip from his coffee.

  That meant that the diamond muling was still something no one knew about. Tommy was surprised that they’d managed to keep it a secret for over two fucking decades. Bikers and diamonds was probably not a connection a lot of people made, though. The value in those tiny fucking stones made it important that it wasn’t well known, since it made them targets for so many worse things than the cops. With pot, the main competition was unorganized street gangs, and even if those could cause trouble enough, the competition with diamonds and heavier drugs was a lot more difficult.

  Brick sent Gordon away without letting him finish his coffee. After a quick look on his mobile, he stood up. He pointed at the table.

  “Leave a nice tip. I like the waitress here,” he said.

  Tommy suspected the reason Brick liked the waitress was her huge tits and pretty face, but he did as Brick had asked. Not even Roach objected, and he left a few bills next to his cup.

  “Let’s go welcome Crank and Dig,” Brick continued. “I wanna talk to someone who doesn’t make me need a shower.”

  oOo

  “WE’RE LIKE AN ARMY of blonde women,” Mom said with a happy voice, and she wasn’t completely wrong. She looked at Violet. “Except you, honey, but I suspect you’re blonde under all that violet.”

  “Um… Sort of,” Violet answered. “I haven’t seen it in years, actually, but the roots look a little blonde.”

  Besides Mom, Violet, and me, it was Mel and Eliza. Eliza was only going to be with us until her theater rehearsals. I hadn’t talked much to her before, and in a way I still wasn’t. Mom and she were pretty much talking enough for all of us.

  I’d never understood what it was about Mom and
connecting to young women, but she’d always been like that. A lot of my friends had been really close to her, which at times had been a little awkward. She claimed I’d inherited those traits, which was part of the reason she’d thought I would fit at the veterans’ center, but even if I had some of it, it was far from her skills.

  So naturally, Eliza and she had hit it off immediately. It had started with a comment about Mom’s fancy handbag, and it continued from there to Mom pretty much finding out everything about Eliza’s life in less than thirty minutes. Probably not everything, but quite a lot. Some of it even seemed to surprise Mel—like Eliza’s dream of becoming a scriptwriter or a playwright.

  After the second house, Mom turned to the rest of us.

  “I don’t know about you girls, but I need a break and some iced tea. This heat is killing me.”

  “It’s good, though,” Mel said. “That way we’ll find out if the ACs in the houses are worth a damn.”

  It would also mean I took a good look at any house with a good AC just to get some relief from the blazing June sun. Or at least didn’t hate it immediately. I wasn’t sure I was truly needed for the inspections. Mom and Mel were in perfect control, but not in a bad way. Violet was a surprising companion, but she had an eye for details and seemed to be very good at seeing possibilities, which was probably why Mel had brought her along. I felt sorry for her, though; she was almost full term in her pregnancy, and traipsing around in the heat had to be torture for her. While we were having our iced tea, I finally had to ask her,

  “Why are you doing this? It has to be horrible for you.”

  “It’s not so bad, and I’m kind of hoping it’ll get the whole thing started,” she answered and stroked her belly with a smile.

  “This is your second?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she answered.

  Eliza leaned over and gave the bulge a kiss. “It’s a girl. I just know it’s a girl. We don’t get enough girls. I just don’t get why you didn’t find out. You did for the first one.”

  “I’d like to be surprised this time,” Violet smiled. She looked through the window. “Isn’t that Miriam?”

  “Oh shit!” Eliza yelled and started to collect her things. “I texted her to meet me here. We have rehearsals.”

  “Now?” Mel asked with an eye on her watch. “I thought it was at four?”

  “We’re gonna work on the costumes first.” She leaned down and gave her mother’s cheek a kiss. “I’ll see you tonight. Love you.”

  “Love you, honey, take care.”

  “It was a pleasure to meet you both,” Eliza said to my mom and me. She did it with a big smile on her bright red lips. Her smile was as radiant as her mother’s. It reminded me of something I’d read once about someone smiling like the universe had kissed them. It was from one of those Sci-Fi series Zach had made me read, probably ‘The Expanse’ series, but I wasn’t sure. I remembered it because I’d thought it was beautiful, and I’d wished I could smile that nicely and happily. Eliza sure could.

  “Good luck with the house hunting,” she said to me, still smiling. “I’ll think of you as I rock the stage with my vigorous performance.”

  “It was a pleasure to meet you, too, Eliza,” Mom said. “Make sure to let me know when the play premieres.”

  “Definitely.”

  “Bye,” I said, but I wasn’t sure she’d heard, since she was already heading towards the door.

  “She’s all over the place,” Mom laughed once she was gone.

  “You’re not kidding,” Mel answered. “This theater thing has been great, though. It lets her be the complete drama queen as much as she wants. She’s actually calmed down a lot.”

  I tried to imagine Eliza even more all over the place and ended up laughing.

  “You’re laughing,” Mel said as if she’d read my thoughts, “but let me tell you, someone like that in combination with Brick’s bad morning mood doesn’t give you relaxing mornings.”

  We moved on to the next house, which was pretty good, but the one after that seemed perfect from the outside. The yard was big and open, and from what I could tell it continued far behind the house, too. The house was completely empty, and had belonged to someone Mel knew, so I was allowed to look at it without a broker hanging over my shoulders telling me why it was so goddamn perfect for me. Violet sat down on the stairs and waved dismissively with her hand when Mel came up to her to ask her how she was doing.

  “I just need to sit for a while, and the AC in this house seems perfect for that.” She looked at me. “Take it from a pregnant women: great AC.”

  One of the bathrooms upstairs was nice, but it had an uncovered window, and part of the charm with the bathroom was how bright it was. I looked outside to see what houses could possibly see me while I was having a shower unless I covered it up. My eyes fell on two men walking down the street towards the house I was in, and I vaguely recognized them. But they still probably wouldn’t have caught my interest if it hadn’t been for one of them signaling to someone out of my eyeshot to go around back and attack at his signal about three minutes later.

  It took me a few seconds before what I’d seen made any sense to me, but as soon as it did, I ran downstairs.

  “Vi and Mel, get upstairs, lock yourself in the bathroom and call Brick. Now!” I turned to Mom. “Do you have a gun?”

  “What kind of question is that? Of course I have a gun. You don’t have a gun?” Mom asked as she pulled her gun out of the fancy handbag. “How long do we have?”

  “Two and a half minutes maybe,” I muttered and went into the downstairs bathroom. I’d noticed the curtain rod earlier, and I pulled it down. It was a bit long, but it was better than nothing. When I came back outside, Mel was still there. “Mel, get upstairs. Please.”

  “No, I can help,” she said and kicked off her shoes.

  I looked at Mom, who nodded.

  “Two at the front,” I said. “I don’t know how many at the back, but at least one, probably two.”

  “Weapons?” Mom asked as she moved towards the back door. The house had an open layout, so we’d be able to keep an eye on each other without moving around too much.

  “Guns.” I looked at Mel. “If you’re going to panic, it’s better for us if you’re upstairs. It’s easier for us to keep you safe than it is to save you. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. I have a Taser.”

  “Okay, but stay out of the way as much as possible, and use it by sneaking up on them from behind not from the front. Wait for a clean shot. You’ll probably only get one.” I searched my pockets to find my keys. “The main objective is to get them running, not taking them out. If we’re harder to catch than they’d planned, they’ll leave for long enough for Brick and the others to get here.”

  I wasn’t actually so sure of that, but it was better for them if they thought that was the case. Mom probably didn’t believe me, but Mel might, and Mel was the weak link.

  “And yell,” I continued. “As much as you can, keep yelling to get them disoriented and scared. They don’t want to be noticed and the louder we are the quicker they’ll leave.”

  I went to the front door. I couldn’t worry about Mom and Mel. I needed to make sure I stayed on my feet because that was my best chance of helping them once I’d gotten rid of the two people coming through the front door. Two armed men didn’t give me a great chance, and my only asset was the element of surprise. I needed to take full advantage of that. I had keys and a damn shower rod against armed, apparently military, men. I just hoped Violet had gotten hold of someone and that they were on their way. If nothing else scared these assholes off, it would be the sound of bikes, and for the first time I was glad their bikes were ridiculously noisy.

  I needed room, and I needed to be able to hide while still having a view of them, so I simply stood around the corner from the door with my eyes on a wall-mounted mirror, giving me full view of the hallway. I’d hated the mirror when we arrived, and it didn’t look like it was easy to remo
ve, but right then, I was glad it was there.

  Then they came. From far away I heard Mom and Mel yelling from the backdoor, and they’d obviously taken my words about being loud to heart. When the front door was pushed open, my adrenaline kicked in full force, and things seemed to happen in slow motion. The noise from the back of the house startled the two men at the front door, and I slid around the corner staying low, and threw my keys towards the face of the man to the left. I was using a reflex that everyone had: if things comes flying towards our face, we raise our hands, and there’s no way to train that reflex away. At the same time I slammed the end of the shower rod in the solar plexus of the other man. A direct hit at the solar plexus makes the diaphragm spasm, and besides being extremely painful, it makes the opponent lose their breath. Another nifty reflex is that if we can’t breathe, our brain won’t let us think about anything else until we can.

  While the man with the keys in his hand was looking surprised, I kicked his balls. It might be considered cheating, but it was oh so effective. I almost smiled when I heard Dad’s voice at the back of my head, ‘You might fight like a man, Sparks, but you’re a girl, so don’t hesitate to kick fuckers in the balls. Not like you need to worry they’ll pay you back in kind.’

  Around that time, the main bulk of my initial adrenaline rush was over, and I kicked into normal gear again.

  “Honey!” Mom yelled. “Talk to me.”

  I looked at the man was who holding his sternum while trying to catch his breath. I took his gun and clocked him over the head with the grip before directing it at the man holding his balls. I took his gun, too, and put it at the back of my pants. With my eyes directed at both of them, I started backing up before answering.

  “I’m fine. You?”

  “We’re good,” Mom answered.

  “How many?”

  “Just two. I shot one.”

  “Dead?” I asked, really surprised.

  “No. The knee.”

  “Are you in control?” I asked.

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Mel, go check on Vi and let me know if we have an ETA on the guys.” I didn’t hear anything. “Mel? Mel, are you with me?”