Resistance

by K E Osborn

  The room erupts into a fit of excitement as I start walking toward the armory with Trax and Sensei in tow.

  “You think I can finally shoot some fuckers?” Trax asks, and I chuckle with a nod.

  “Yeah, Trax, I think we can finally lay some ammo down.”

  He smiles wide as we enter the armory, and he’s like a kid in a fucking candy store as he grabs a bunch of knives and shoves them down his boots, and then grabs a rifle throwing the sash over his shoulder, then a Glock and pushes it down the front of his pants. I chuckle shaking my head as I move in grabbing a Glock for myself as the other brothers all grab a weapon or two each.

  Surge steps up to me, his good hand grabbing my shoulder. I turn to look at him, his hard eyes search mine. “You take care out there.”

  I chuckle. “Why old man, anyone would think you’re worried about me.”

  “Shut up, son. Just do what you gotta do. Get the guns and all our men back in one piece, this fucking time, yeah?”

  I have to admit that statement hit me right in the guts. I wince slightly and nod. “Yeah… I will.”

  He tightens his hand on my shoulder and then turns walking out but stops at the door.

  “Trax.” Trax turns to look at Surge. “Don’t be a dick.”

  Trax nods and smiles at Surge as he walks off, and I glance to Sensei who still seems a bit off since we’ve gotten back. I’m not sure what’s going on with him right now, but I don’t have time to shoot the shit with him.

  We have a mission to run.

  “Everyone ready to go?”

  “Aye,” resounds through the armory, and I smile wide locking and loading my Glock.

  “Let’s ride!”

  Ace tracked the gun shipment to the rail yard near the flea market, so we plan to park at the market and then walk to the train yard. We don’t want the engines of our bikes to give us away. Right now, we’re walking through the back of the rail yard, following the red flashing bleep on Ace’s cell.

  The moonlight shining is the only glow lighting our path toward our destination. The crunch of the gravel underfoot is slightly unnerving as it makes it apparent people are walking the tracks. But the general hum of the traffic in the distance might be enough of a distraction if the assholes aren’t listening for us.

  We’re all moving slowly in a one-line formation, edging down the tracks until we see a giant shipping container. Ace points to it, and I stop the line.

  It looks unguarded.

  Can it really be this simple?

  “Okay, so it looks like our guns are in that shipping container. Vibe’s waiting with the truck for the go ahead. I say we get Ace to check out the container, make sure it’s not wired, then we go in and take what’s ours.” My voice is hushed. Everyone nods, and I signal for Ace to step forward.

  He moves up to the container and uses some of his whiz-bang tech equipment to check for tripping wires and other shit I don’t understand nor give a flying fuck about.

  Then nods giving me the all clear.

  I motion for the guys to all move along with me, and we step up to the container as Ace opens the unlocked door. As the giant metal door swings on its hinges with a loud creak, a fluorescent light inside the container flicks a few times, then fully illuminates showing a stool with the tracker sitting prominently on it.

  No guns.

  “Fuck!” I murmur as I bring my Glock up sensing danger in the air as the screeching sound of car tires on gravel alerts me. We all spin to see six Lamborghini Diablos squeal up to the container at high speed. I tense up and aim my Glock instantly as the cars pull to a stop. Men hanging from the windows just like the attack when we were trading with Linn, their rifles aimed at us. We’re gathered in a group like sitting fucking ducks, and it would be so easy to take us all out.

  My anger bubbles to the surface as my men look to me, and I grit my teeth as the Asian men all smirk, and I shake my head as we standoff, their guns aimed at us, our guns aimed at them. But they have the protection of their cars. If their guns went off, we’d be fucked. Royally.

  Shit!

  “Lower your weapons, brothers,” I murmur through gritted fucking teeth.

  I hear an audible grunt from Trax, but everyone lowers their guns as the muscles in my neck flex with my anger. I place my gun at my feet and raise my hands in the air.

  I hear an echo of laughter and the car doors open, and the men hanging from the windows step out. Their guns aimed directly at us. Then another six men round the cars, all of them wearing perfectly tailored suits looking very dapper and suave. Very businessman-like.

  The five men seem to be all surrounding one man in particular. His hair is gray. Showing his age of probably around fifty as he thrusts his hands out and adjusts his sleeves, trying to appear well-kept. He looks spotless as he approaches us.

  The hair on the back of my neck raises instantly. My stomach is twisting as he approaches looking straight at me.

  Like he knows I’m in charge.

  Like he knows more than he’s letting on.

  He’s intimidating, and I’m not intimidated easily.

  He clicks his jaw, stopping right in front of me, and looks up as he’s shorter than me. “The name’s Aiko Ishikawa.”

  Sensei tenses beside me, his arms falling to his sides in shock as he stares at the man, his eyes wide in horror. I glance to him and furrow my brows, but Ishikawa doesn’t even batter an eyelid or turn his eyes away from me as he continues, “Oh, I see some of you have heard of me? I guess you should have.” Ishikawa’s eyes finally divert to Sensei. “Being Asian has its perks.”

  Sensei turns white. Nerves filter through me. Sensei obviously knows who this guy is, but I’m still very much in the dark.

  I figure I need to shed some light on this. I’m not going to let him intimidate us. “So, who are you? Triads?” I ask.

  His deep-seated laughter filters through the darkened night sky as he shakes his head. “Triads? No, they’re small time compared to us. You see, with Obama sanctioning others in the States, a new Oyabun had to step in to take over.”

  I shake my head. I’m baffled.

  What the hell is an Oyabun?

  “What are you talking about?”

  Ishikawa smiles while straightening out his suit jacket. “I am Aiko Ishikawa. Oyabun of the Ishikawa Yakuza, and we’re here to take Chicago. Then we will move on to the rest of America’s underworld.”

  Tensing my body, I shake my head looking to Sensei who still appears somewhat shell-shocked.

  What the hell is wrong with him?

  I’ll have to figure that out later. For now, I have the motherfucking Yakuza in town, and that cannot be good.

  Tensing my body, I grit my teeth. “That’s not gonna happen. We run Chicago. And what we don’t, the Andrettis hold.”

  He smiles. “That’s going to change, Torque.” How does he know my name? “From now on… you answer to me. I don’t know whether to keep it that way, or whether to make an example of your insolence right here and now,” he sneers gesturing to one of his men as he angles his gun right at Sensei’s head and flicks off the safety.

  I grit my teeth as the man begins to squeeze the trigger. Tension ripples through my body. I glance to Sensei, and his eyes fill with anguish, a longing look at me, like a brother about to say his goodbyes, when suddenly, the roar of bellowing laughter fills through the back of the rail yard, and the unmistakable clicking of riffles loading ready to go off sounds through the darkness.

  “I wouldn’t pull that trigger if I were you,” a familiar voice calls out and all our heads snap to see Enzo and the Andrettis standing in huge numbers on the mound, rifles aimed at us all, with giant grins adorning their faces.

  “And who the fuck are you?” Ishikawa calls out.

  “The motherfucking cavalry.” He chuckles like that’s the funniest thing he could have ever said, and I shake my head as Ishikawa grunts signaling to his men to lower their guns.

  I stand a little taller and let o
ff a small grin. "You didn’t think you were gonna catch me sleeping twice, did you?" I scald Ishikawa.

  His head, along with everyone else, snaps around to look at me.

  “You did this?” Sensei asks, and I nod.

  “Thanks for joining the party, Enzo, appreciate you stepping in when you received my cryptic message.”

  Enzo snorts out a laugh. “Have to admit, getting your text threw me. I thought it was a trap. But I was intrigued and thought I should check this shit out. Seeing the new player in town really had me itching at the balls to get one over on them,” Enzo laughs, and I raise my brow.

  “Itching at the balls?” I grin.

  “You know what I mean. Anyway, our job here is done. We saved your asses. Now go, before I change my mind and turn our guns on you.”

  Jolting my head back, I give him a two-finger salute as I look back to Ishikawa who appears like he’s fuming. “You still have our guns.”

  Ishikawa smiles. “And they have made a lovely addition to our collection. Now, you better run along before the Italians shoot you.”

  “You better shut your mouth, before I shoot you,” I tell him as I signal my men to pick their weapons up. I don’t miss the Andrettis gripping their weapons tighter. We don’t trust them, they don’t trust us. They might have come through for us in this moment, but it doesn’t make us square—not by a long shot.

  I glance to Trax who’s also looking around wondering what the hell is going on. I know he’s the biggest of Andretti haters, and knowing they helped us out of this bind would be eating at him right now.

  “Go on, off you go.” Enzo makes a ‘shoo’ motion with his hands, and I glance behind me to the empty shipping container.

  Ishikawa chuckles. “The look on your face when you saw it was empty. Priceless.”

  I turn back looking to my brothers and gesture for them to start to head off back down the tracks. We didn’t get our guns, and we’re potentially walking away from two enemies right now, both of who could shoot us in the back. That’s a big gamble. But I put faith in Enzo to show up, and he did. Now, I have to trust he’ll do the right thing here too.

  My brothers all turn and start to walk off hoping like fuck they’re not going to get shot in the back as we step away. My adrenaline’s spiking through the roof as we head down the train tracks knowing at any second either side could open fire on us. I don’t want to look back to check if they’re watching us, or if they’re aiming their weapons at us because that would make me appear weak. I can’t do that, especially not in front of my brothers.

  So with my stomach churning, I walk at a fast pace with my men beside me, and we march back to the flea market. None of us saying anything as we round the corner far enough away now, so I think we’re in the clear. I let out the breath I was holding as we head for our bikes.

  I look to Chains and shake my head. “Fuck.”

  He clenches his jaw and rubs the back of his neck. “Holy shit.”

  Ace and Trax come to our sides both looking as pissed as I feel.

  “Well, that was a shitshow. And fuck, Torque, bringing Enzo in… you could have fucking warned us,” Trax grunts obviously pissed because Enzo was there helping us.

  “I had no idea Ishikawa was Yakuza. All I know is Torque… this is bad. Real fucking bad,” Ace huffs as I glance over to Sensei who’s sitting on his bike ready to leave but avoiding any conversation or eye contact. Which is strange for him. He’s always the first to offer advice or counsel. I’ll deal with his issues later. We need to get back to the club and fill Surge in on what’s happening.

  Banging the gavel on the table, church is called. Everyone’s here as it’s serious business that needs tending to. “Okay, most of you know what the hell happened on the run to retrieve our guns. For those of you who missed it. We ran into some… trouble.”

  Surge looks at me and raises a brow. “What kind of trouble?”

  “We met the new kids on the block. The conglomerate trying to take over everything. Seems it’s the motherfucking Japanese Yakuza. The Ishikawa Syndicate. They’ve come here to take our city, and then the rest of America, so they say.”

  Surge sits up taller in his chair and shakes his head. “Obama put sanctions on the Yakuza in America?”

  Ace nods. “He did, on a couple of the families that were operating in the States, so that’s why they’ve sent a new Yakuza family. One operating under the table. They’re basically starting again, right under everyone’s noses. If no one knows the name Ishikawa, then they can’t place sanctions on them. That’s why whenever we tried to run the names of the conglomerate buying shit up, it was always hidden. “They’re trying to remain anonymous. If no one knows who the hell they are, they can’t be run out of America like the previous Yakuza families.”

  “With Obama gone, who knows if there’ll be other sanctions on these fuckers,” I add.

  “Exactly, we’re in the dark,” Ace exhales. “We might have to play this one ourselves.”

  Rolling my shoulders, I grit my teeth. “As much as I hate this, and it’s eating me up inside to even say the words, the only thing I can think of… is to dance with the devil. He came to our aid when I put out the call. We have to work with fuckin’ Enzo.”

  General unease filters through the room, and I glance to Surge who nods and places his hand on the table. “Way I see it, we have no other option. He’s the lesser of our two evils right now. And better to side with one to take out the biggest than to have Enzo turn and side with Ishikawa and they both bring us down.”

  Everyone nods, and I let out a loud huff. “So we’re all in agreement? Tomorrow we talk to Enzo about bringing down the Ishikawa Yakuza?”

  A resounding ‘aye’ filters through the room, and I bang my gavel hard on the table. “Done. Tomorrow we find a way to fix this mess. Tonight we process. Rest. Take the night for yourselves. Do whatever you wanna do. Tomorrow we ride for Enzo. Disperse,” I call out, and everyone stands up, and I glance to Trax who stays seated.

  I swivel my chair to face him as everyone leaves the chapel, excluding him and me.

  With a breath, he looks at me and cracks his knuckles. “Brother… you’re my president. I respect you. I know you have the club’s best interests at heart. But dealing with Enzo. I mean that fucker does my head in. Are you sure this is the right path?”

  Leaning forward, I place my arms on the table and look at him. “You have a better option?”

  He chuckles. “My option would be to go in and fuck everyone up. Get the grenade launcher, and just say hello to my little friend. If you know what I mean?” He smirks, and I shake my head.

  “The thing is, Trax, not everything can be solved with violence. Take for instance… if we went into Andrettis and attacked after we got shot up, we’d be at war with them now, and it wasn’t even them who shot us up. See where I’m coming from? Sometimes your shoot-first method doesn’t work.”

  He grins. “It’s way more fun, though.”

  I shake my head. “This is why you’re VP and not the President, little brother.”

  He chuckles and cracks his neck to the side. “Imagine if Dad were here now. Seeing you side with Enzo. Fuck! He’d be rolling over in his grave.”

  I wince, that’s a low blow. “Trax… there a point to this?”

  He sits back in his chair and sighs. “I’m just saying… you need to watch your back with Enzo. Don’t trust him for a second. He’ll turn on you the second he gets a better offer.”

  Nodding, I look him in the eyes. “Thank you, brother.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. We’re knee deep in shit, and I don’t see a way out.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  He chuckles standing up. “Anytime. Right, I need a beer and some pussy. Not necessarily in that order.”

  Snorting out a laugh, I stand up and walk with him out to the clubroom to see the festivities starting to begin. The mood in the room is cheery despite the events of tonight. I told the guys to chill an
d they will. I intend to do the same. So I smack Trax on the back and walk away from him in the direction of Surge, who’s sitting with Mom. As I walk up, they’re both laughing, and I move in resting my hand on Surge’s bad shoulder. He looks up to me, and I waggle my brows at him. “Should you be drinking with the pain meds you’re taking?”

  He chuckles and tilts his head. “Since when did you become the father in this relationship?”

  Rolling my eyes, I purse my lips making him laugh. “I’m going to Heeley’s. Call me if anything happens or if you need me.”

  He nods and smiles wide. “Glad she’s back on board. Have a good night, son.”

  “Oh, I plan, too.”

  “Oh… Lordy, Lordy, Lord, too much information,” Mom calls out making me laugh as I walk out toward my bike.

  TORQUE

  Pulling up my ride out the front of Heeley’s apartment, a sense of adrenaline rushes through me. Being here again excites me. I honestly didn’t know if we’d get back to this place, but fuck if I’m glad we have. Throwing my leg off my ride, I don’t hesitate to walk toward her door. But before I reach it, I haven’t even had time to pull off my helmet, and the door swings open.

  She’s standing in the doorway.

  The light shining behind her is lighting her up like a motherfucking angel as she stands there in her robe, the one with the drawstring I used to tie her up.

  I smile wide while yanking off my helmet and step right up to her quickly placing my helmet to the grassy patch by her front door. Heeley giggles as I race forward and sweep her up into my arms. She laughs as I rush forward slamming the door shut with my foot, and press my lips to hers, hard. Her legs instinctively wrap around my waist as I walk and then press her back against the wall kissing her passionately, so I don’t have time to think about what’s under that robe. Her hands slide around my neck gripping onto me tightly, and it’s like it is the first time we’ve seen each other in a decade.

  She begins to chuckle against my lips, and it’s enough to make me pull back and look at her breaking the kiss.