LBM and the others couldn’t believe their luck. Three red hot bitches walking alone. Not only were they drooling over what those pocketbooks probably held, he was imagining the party to end all parties he and his crew were going to have.
Having done this dozens of times, Twotone slid the car up to the first girl, leaving LBM enough room to comfortably swing his door open and step out. It went perfectly; they were in position and LBM was exiting the door as usual.
Just before he could get the door open LBM could see the girl watching him out of the corner of her eye. She dropped the shopping bag and spun towards him, and her right hand seeming to disappear into the side of the pocketbook. That seemed strange. Why would there be an opening between two halves of a pocketbook? Naw, it was probably her trying to get a grip on it. She wanted to keep him from snatching it from her. Wouldn’t help her, he was so much stronger the pocketbook would be his in seconds. It always worked that way.
Snatching, LBM pulled, but instead of resistance, the pocketbook and the girl seemed to fly into his chest. Odd, he felt something going on in his chest, then he was kind of tired and breathing seemed to be a lot harder than it should be.
As soon as Itsy saw the big man reach for the door handle she knew what was coming. She dropped the shopping bag, and spun towards him. Sliding her hand into the compartment built between the two halves of her pocketbook she took a firm hold of the spring knife nestled there. As the big man pulled on the pocketbook, she did as she had been trained. Placing her feet correctly she lunged as he pulled, simultaneously pushing the button on the spring knife. Seven inches of the best quality and sharpest steel money could buy suddenly jutted out the end of the spring knife and out the other side of her pocketbook. The man was much taller than she, and pulling her to him violently. Being right handed, he was pulling her slightly to his right side. She kept her wrist, arm and shoulder straight and aligned with her slightly turned body. Falling back on her training she used all her weight and strength behind her lunge. Up at an angle the steel went, piercing the man just below his rib cage. Thump, thump. Two full strength stabs. The man still had a hold on the bag, so she jerked her hand from between the two halves and lunged up on his left side. Thump, thump. Two more stabs angling up and under his ribs.
LBM couldn’t understand what had just happened. In a matter of seconds his chest was an explosion of pain, and he couldn’t catch his breath. There was a gurgling sound every time he tried to breath. The little blond bitch was saying something to him. What? What? Sit down? Ya, that seemed like a really good idea. LBM staggered back two steps and collapsed back onto the seat he had left less than 15 seconds ago. Seemed like she was trying to help him. She was encouraging him to lift his feet into the car and even helping him get the impossible weight of his legs inside the car. He had no way of knowing it but his lungs had big gaping holes in them and his heart was sliced. His heart was pumping blood right through the holes in his lungs.
Itsy wanted to get the big horse’s turd into the car. She preferred he wasn’t a big bleeding lump in the parking lot. She talked to him and got him pretty much seated back inside the car.
Dingo waited for his cue to exit. Like dozens of times before the big man stepped out, and as soon as his door was fully open and he was advancing on his victim, Dingo started to swing his door open.
In his right hand he had his favorite gun. It was a big gleaming stainless steel monster. Guys would pee their pants when he lined that bad boy up on them.
Swinging out, his right arm left the car first and just as the elbow was about to leave the interior, one of the bitches grabbed his outstretched wrist with both of her hands. Gripping his wrist tightly she stepped back, jerking his arm against the cars door frame. Before he could react there was a terrible snapping sound follow by excruciation pain in his elbow.
As soon as the car slid past Annie she saw Itsy move quickly, dropping her shopping bag. Taking her cue from Itsy she advanced to the back door of the car and as it swung open a hand with a really big gun came out. In full survival mode, Annie grabbed the man’s wrist and broke his elbow back across the car’s door frame. He lost control of the weapon, and thank goodness it didn’t discharge.
The man was still trying to get out of the car. His right arm was totally useless, so Annie stepped in front of him, grabbed his left arm and broke it back against the edge of the now fully open back door.
Dingo couldn’t see. Tears were streaming down his cheeks; the pain was unbelievable. He could hardly breathe from the pain.
This time Annie didn’t let go of the man’s wrist. She kept a firm hold; stepping back two steps she pulled the man’s arm with her, forcing him to turn around. He was now facing toward the car. Letting go of the wrist she grabbed his long, stinky hair with both hands and slammed his face into the upper door frame. Once, twice, three times. First his teeth went, then his nose was broken. The last slam was so forceful that his jaw was broken in three places. Not letting go, she jerked his head down, placed one hand against his back and pushed him face first into the back seat.
What was going on? Dingo couldn’t understand. The pain, the stars bursting in his vision, how was that possible? It couldn’t have been the little bitch he picked out for his special attention later that night. She couldn’t have caused all this damage to a powerful street thug like him! About the only thing still working was his legs. He knew he had to get turned over, facing up so that he could fight back. With all his will power he used his legs and his shattered arms to turn over in the seat. That’s as far as he got. He let his legs relax for just a minute; he needed to rest them. Bad move. From the knees down his legs were now outside the car.
Soon as the man turned over and extended his legs Annie grabbed the right ankle and used the length of the man’s leg for leverage. Wham, wham. It took two tries but his knee buckled and now his lower leg was at right angles to his body. Looked like he might have fainted at that point. No point in wasting an opportunity. Annie grabbed the other leg and treated it the same. Since they were totally broken they could be folded and forced back into the car easily enough. In one leg some of the leg bones must have caught on other broken bones and didn’t quite allow the leg all the way in. An ankle was still just outside the car. Getting a firm grip on the door Annie slammed it into the ankle over and over. After the sixth or seventh time the ankle was jelly and would now fold nicely into the car. She went back to her pocketbook, retrieved a large cloth and proceeded to wipe down any of the car she or Annie might have touched.
With the other two girls moving up on the right side of the car, Susie knew the left side was her responsibility. Dropping her shopping bag, she retrieved her spring knife from the folds of her pocketbook and headed for the driver.
Twotone was using his left arm on the steering wheel to rotate himself to the right so he could watch the show. He always liked watching LBM working, but this was going to be extra special good. That little blond bitch was about to learn who was the boss around here. Someone took hold of his hair, jerking his head back to the open window. Before he could grab his gun in the seat, a long, wicked looking blade passed before his eyes and was pressed against his throat. With his head pulled back painfully and a razor sharp blade cutting slightly into his throat he didn’t have much choice. He listened to the voice. It sounded like a ten year old talking; the voice was so clear and sounded like the wind chimes his gamma had on her porch. The knife ruined the illusion.
Susie started talking. She mentioned that no matter how quick or how strong he might think he was, the knife would slice through his jugular if he tried to pull or move around. Twotone believed every word of it. She told him to slowly reach over in the seat and push the gun onto the floor out of reach. For emphasis, she let the knife slice an eighth of an inch deeper. He did exactly that.
Now that tinkling little voice was telling him to untie and remove the bandanna he had around his forehead, his gang colors. Do it slowly! For some reason that voice scared him mor
e than any shout from LBM could. Suddenly his crotch was warm and wet. She told him to fold it into squares then slowly hand it over his shoulder to her. He handed over the bandanna.
As soon as Susie saw the others were finished with what they needed to do, she told the thug to hold perfectly still. Holding pressure against his throat with the knife edge she used her other hand to hold the square of cloth on his neck.
Twotone could see what had been happening to the others. The whole time he was held with the knife at his throat he was turned so that what went on was perfectly clear. It was a show alright, just not any show he wanted to see. When he got away from these bitches he would get a few feet down the parking lot, stop and get his shotgun out of the trunk, then these bitches would pay!
Susie knew she should be frightened out of her mind, but she was so jacked up on adrenaline she couldn’t feel anything but excitement. She wondered if the others were feeling the same way.
She didn’t trust the thug she was holding with her knife. She knew if he got the upper hand she was in trouble. She and the others needed some insurance that the guy wouldn’t trouble them again. She whispered instructions to him. Since his friends were in such bad shape as soon as she let him go he should drive them to a hospital. He agreed immediately. From the tone of his voice she knew he might drive off, but he wouldn’t go far. Too bad.
With one hand holding the folded cloth, she quickly pulled the knife back and slipped it into the side of the man’s neck. Pressing the cloth around the knife blade she removed the knife while holding pressure on the wound.
That BITCH, she had cut him. Now she was telling him to hold pressure on the wound and drive for that hospital for real, before he bled out. He was scared beyond reason. As soon as she stepped back he took off down the parking lot, making the turn at the end and heading out for the main street. He made it all the way to the first street after the parking lot, but the warmth running down his neck was slowing. He was feeling lightheaded; he needed to pull over and rest for a minute. He barely made it to the curb and put the car in park before he keeled over in the seat as the last pint of his blood trickled down his side.
As the car pulled away Annie had already retrieved her pocketbook and her shopping bag, as had Itsy. Susie picked up her stuff and they headed for the rental. The whole incident took less than two minutes from start to finish.
On the way to the rental car Itsy and Annie were discussing where to go for dinner, and as they got to the rental they could see Itsy’s dad coming down the lane behind the rental. Before he got there they agreed not to mention anything. They didn’t want to upset him.
Susie thought, not for the first time, she hadn’t really known Itsy as well as she assumed when she asked to join Madd’s family.
Chapter 3
Home again, home again
Nighttime in the Colorado Mountains was one of his favorite things. It would be pitch black if it weren’t for the Milky Way. Life can wear a man down, but for alone time, it doesn't get much better than nighttime in the mountains. Sitting on a boulder studying the night sky gives a man some perspective. The air is so clear and the stars so bright. This wasn’t the kind of night one experienced in Afghanistan, where a man had to scan each shadow. Dissect each sound. Fear that the next breath would be his last. Constantly alert, to keep from being killed in the next second. Nighttime in Afghanistan sucked the spirit from a man, made him feel less than human, and diminished his humanity.
This night with the stars shining down, it was the kind of night that allowed a man to be filled with the energy of life. Those who had never experienced the renewal that the wild places could fill a man with would never understand. For those who stood on a mountainside and gazed down into the valleys, where the green things grew, and the rivers flowed, there was a physical presence that made life worthwhile. For those who understood, staring into the night sky, or down into the valleys completed them. It connected them with the spirit of life, of renewal.
He had tried sharing this feeling with many people over the years. Some got it, many didn’t. He felt sorry for those that didn’t.
Madd had been home for nine days. He didn’t talk about his experiences. Eventually he knew he would have to. He had taken the girls to Denver for movies, ate out at nice restaurants, made love and reconnected with his family.
This night was for him. Time alone to think and contemplate. After dinner he had saddled up his favorite horse and ridden out into the open spaces for some alone time. This was the last lazy time he would have for a very long time. Tomorrow the reality of completing the framework and strategy to save the family would begin in earnest.
He didn’t need to be psychic to know that his life would be filled with meeting after meeting. Decisions, hard and easy, would be made. It was time to marshal all the Riders into one cohesive, functioning machine. A machine that could help him build what was needed for the months and years to come. The Juggernaut had reached the steep part of the slope and had started to pick up speed. No more trying to hold it back; it was time to climb aboard, hold on tight or be crushed under the wheels.
Family community center, media room, 8am
“Ok guys, let’s get to it.”
“Madd, should we record our meetings for future reference?” asked Dek.
“To tell you the truth Dek I am not particularly comfortable with that. You never know when something might come back to bite us if there is a record. I suppose we don’t have much choice, though. Considering all the irons we are going to have in the fire we are going to need a method for keeping track. Go ahead and do it Dek, but keep that thing safe.”
“I’ll take care of it, Madd.”
Dek placed a recording device in the middle of the table; similar ones were common in Fortune 500 business meetings. Turning it on, he gave the date and the title 1st official meeting of the Riders in the Storm. In attendance, Dek, Madd, Hey, Real, Ivan and Tinker. On Skype conference call is Tommy, to give us financial input.
“It’s all yours, Madd,” said Dek.
“First of all I want to thank Dek and Tommy for shouldering the load while the rest of us were gone.”
There were sounds of table thumping and “good job”, from around the table.
“Tommy, I know time is never your friend so why don’t we get your end of the financials out of the way. That way you can tend to business when we start in on the other aspects of our operation.”
“Sounds good to me, Madd. You want all the bloody details or just a general run down?”
“Just give us the big picture for now.”
“Since you left the last time, we have again sold an aggregate of products. Cattle, hay, feed corn, lumber, hogs and various assortments of merchandise from our various business ventures. Income from last season was $825,400; by adding in the repayments of loans and the family partnership in other business, that gave us a total of $2,249,650. One unexpected bright spot was income derived from sales of our container housing division. Various organizations purchased enough units to give us a profit of $287,000 after expenses. Adding profits from other sources this season of $935,200, this brought us to $3,471.850. Income so far this year from our partner in Denver has been $492,000. With the $8,600,000 brought in by Al, this gives us an approximate total of $12,563,850. The final expense of drilling the gas well was $2,063,000. That left us with a balance of $10,500.850, before we had to start paying construction costs on the new home place.
“It took $2,600,000 to get the ball rolling and that was gone in a matter of months. As I understand it, an additional $2,500,000 in cash that was held by Dek for ongoing expenses on our construction and rehabilitation of the home place, is now committed and virtually spent at this time. I have an e-mail from Dek informing me that he needs an additional $1,000,000 which I am transferring today from the LLC investment account. With the exception of a small residual held in local banks, that leaves us with $4,400,850 invested and making money as we speak. In your e-mail you will find a bre
akdown of our investments as well as their profitability.”
“What about taxes on the money in public view?” asked Madd.
“Using loopholes and legal methods we will have to pay the government about 10% on the income from our various businesses but since the $8,600,00 came from re-capitalization of the members of our various LCCs, and repayments of loans, those money figures are not taxable, as they are not profit. As a ball park figure we should owe around $120,000 in taxes. I should add that we applied for and were granted perfectly legal tax extensions last year. The same tactic will be applied this year. What that means is to date, we have not had to pay any taxes. We are paying at the last possible minute to keep our assets making the family money. Each additional year we will then pay the taxes as we are now. We will defer each year’s payment by as much as possible.”
"If I understand what you are saying Tommy, we are paying taxes, but by the time we have to, but we are doing as the rich do, at a very small rate?”
“Exactly, Madd.”
“It seems wrong somehow.”
“I understand your reservations but this is the way big business does business. Let me point out that the figures we have just gone over do not reflect the spending Dek has been doing for the family, just the big ticket items. Madd, guys, if there is nothing more I need to get going.”
“Thanks Tommy, you have done a wonderful job and we all appreciate it.”
“Happy to help. It isn’t exactly altruistic, however. I plan on heading home as soon as I see the first hint the world is about to crash.”
What Do You Mean Its Still Tuesday Page 5