Boss looked at his watch. “Three and a half hours ago.” His eyes came back to Win’s. “We got a chance. We’re gonna light that little fucker up.”
Win nodded.
Boss stood up and headed for the door.
Win stepped back to the security room. “I need the license number of Robin’s car.” Catcher looked at him with curiosity. Win shook his head. “Don’t ask, brother. Just give it to me.”
Catcher ran the feed to three frames before the car came to a stop. Because of the curved angle of the drive, the car’s front end was facing one of the cameras for a fraction of a second. Enough to get the plate.
Win grabbed a scratch pad and wrote it down. “Thanks.”
He walked out to where the bikes were parked. With the light from his phone, he used the key to open the saddlebag on the left and felt around for the release of the fake bottom compartment Arnold had designed to hide the burner phone.
Instructions were clear. He was supposed to use the phone only once, to alert the Ranger to an imminent situation that would require massive law enforcement attention. Brant had told him that, in a serious situation, the state would either send the entire National Guard or one Ranger.
Win was supposed to make that call to the Ranger as he was headed out on a one-way trip back to the SSMC. But he wasn’t calling the Ranger. He was calling his own prez. Who was probably sound asleep.
That was confirmed when he heard Brant’s gravelly, and sleepy, “Yeah?”
“Need you to do somethin’, prez. And it can’t wait.”
After a slight hesitation, Win heard Brant’s voice sound a little clearer. “Okay. I’m sittin’ up. What is it?”
“Don’t have time to tell the whole story. That rival club? Stars & Bars? They’re slavers. And they got the Marauder V.P.’s daughter.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Little less than four hours ago. Took her from a club in her own car and I got the license plate. We’re workin’ this on our end. Can you pass this along and get the cops to look for the car?”
“I can. Win, you gettin’ involved?”
“No, sir. I’m not gettin’ involved. I am involved. Didn’t want it that way. It just happened.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah. On the other thing. Comin’ to a head. Next call, I’ll be on my way back.”
“Got a cut waitin’ for you. Take care.”
“Yeah.”
CHAPTER Twelve
Zip waited for Nate Cramer to stop screaming. They’d learned the guy’s name, but not a lot that would be extremely helpful to the problem at hand.
Zipper’s voice was colder than ice when he leaned down into Nate Cramer’s bloody face, eyes already swollen almost shut. “Nothin’ on the human body hurts worse than a shattered knee.” Cramer let out a hiccupping sob at that. “I guess you don’t like this. Bein’ held against your will. Somebody else havin’ complete discretion and dominion over you and your body. Kinda like the women you sell, huh?”
Cramer cried quietly. “Please.”
“Please?” Zip repeated. “You mean please stop and let you go home? Well, we’re at a crossroads. You tell me what I want to know, I’m gonna drop you off at home and you can get some medical attention. You may have to use a crutch, but you’ll be able to get around.
“Or, you don’t tell me what I want to know, I’ll have to take my satisfaction where I can get it. That means smashin’ your other knee. Know what happens then? You never walk again. Wheelchair time.”
Cramer cried. “I can’t. Dredge’ll…”
“Dredge a scary fucker, is he? He scary enough to cut your dick off in front of your face and make you eat it bit by bit?”
Cramer fell silent. He tipped his head back, trying to see out of the one tiny slit of an eye that remained partially open.
Zipper suddenly stood up. “Forget the knee. Get his pants open.”
Cowpie didn’t hesitate. He lunged toward Cramer’s belt and started pulling. Cramer reacted by screaming. “NO!” over and over.
“No’s not the word I’m lookin’ for,” Zipper said. “What I’m lookin’ for is an address where we can find the girls.”
Cramer said nothing. Even the pleading had stopped. His flaccid penis was flopped onto his thigh. When Zipper picked up a knife and started walking toward him, Cramer flailed, struggling against the handcuffs that held him bound to the chair that was bolted to the floor. When Zipper stood directly in front of him, Cramer began hyperventilating. That was punctuated by involuntary urination which made Zipper jump back.
It delayed the process, but not by more than a few seconds.
By that time, most of the club members were witnessing the Q&A, standing in a semicircle of shadows just outside the bright light showcasing Mr. Cramer.
When Zipper lifted the knife and bent forward, Cramer screamed, “DON’T! STOP! FOR GOD’S SAKE I’LL TELL YOU WHAT YOU WANT TO KNOW.”
“You got five seconds,” Zip said, lifting Cramer’s dick up like a sausage about to be sliced.
“Farmhouse south of town. Bought it when we came to town. Keep girls there until we’re ready for shipment.”
The word ‘shipment’ made Zipper see red. He nicked Cramer’s dick just to make a point. Cramer jumped, screamed, and started bleeding in a way that made the nick look much worse than it was.
“You’re not talkin’ fast enough,” Zip said calmly, holding up the bloody knife so Cramer could see it.
“Farney Road between Golinda and the Methodist Church.”
“What’s it look like?”
“Old white farmhouse. Barn that’s fallin’ down.”
“How many guys will be there?”
“I don’t know. Two or three.”
“Vehicles?”
“In the barn.”
“So it looks deserted from the road?”
“Yeah. Deserted.”
“All right. You’re gonna show us. I’m gonna ride with you, makin’ sure my knife is always real close to your dick.”
Boss figured there was a chance that S&B knew Marauders had one of theirs. On that note, he decided to take everybody he could spare. Armed. Just in case.
He left Bo, Win, Catcher, and Cue at the clubhouse. Win and Catcher both volunteered to go, but he thought one mission a night was enough stress.
Win was glad R.C. didn’t know about Robin. If all went well, she’d sleep through the whole thing and there’d be a happy ending. If not, the bad news could wait until she’d had enough rest to face it.
Thirty-five minutes later, the club pulled to a stop on a small rise a hundred yards from the gate to the property and killed the lights. They’d left the bikes behind and ridden in nice quiet vehicles. Zip tied a bandanna around Cramer’s mouth just in case the man decided to sacrifice his own cock to the cause at the last minute. Cramer was handcuffed to the front passenger ceiling handle and couldn’t go anywhere, but Zip left Cowpie holding a knife on him anyway.
The Marauders fanned out across the front of the property, moving slowly enough to be sure nobody stepped in a hole. It would be an inopportune time to break an ankle. Just four days from a full moon, the light helped them see enough to advance on the farmhouse without causing a stir.
No dogs.
No alarm system.
Not even an electric fence.
Cramer had told them they’d find the girls in a room with the windows boarded over. Walking around the house, Zipper found a room that fit that description. It was a typical Texas shotgun-style house, which meant that if some of them came in the back at the same time others came in the front, they’d be facing each other.
They waited for Zip’s signal, which was basically kick in the back door.
Cramer was right. There were three guys there who all, apparently, felt comfortable enough to be sound asleep. In beds.
Marauders had all three at gunpoint before they were so much as fully awake. While Zipper tore down the door to the room with the boarded windows
, Boss made sure all three S&B were handcuffed to the old World War II iron army cots they’d been sleeping on.
Zip had gotten the door open to the room where girls were reportedly held. There was no sound from inside the darkness. It was quiet as a tomb. He felt around on the wall near the door and tried to switch on the light, but the bulb was either burned out or missing. He stood there framed by the light from another room, shouting, “Somebody bring me a light”, when he heard a small tentative voice say, “Daddy?”
The relief of hearing Robin’s voice was so sharp and so keen that it hit Zipper like a physical force. He stumbled back two steps reflexively trying to grab something that wasn’t there and sat down hard.
Roar stepped around Zip and into the room with a flashlight. The girls were bound and to columns of mortared concrete blocks without enough freedom of movement to lie down . They were filthy, and dehydrated. Some seemed to have checked out mentally. But they were alive.
“Got nine! Robin’s here.” Roar shouted. “Bring those vans around here.”
For a while Zipper couldn’t move from the floor. He just sat there staring straight ahead with tears running down his face. In a moment of grace that was stunning in its purity, he was helped to his feet by his own daughter.
When the vans left to take the girls to the hospital, Boss stayed behind and called the Sheriff’s office. He gave them a brief overview. Said they’d gotten a tip from an anonymous phone call and drove over to check it out. He told them his friends had left to take eight girls to the hospital and that those girls would, undoubtedly, have stories to tell. No mention was made of Robin.
Boss called Catcher to give him the news. Win took the phone from Catcher and explained to Boss that he might have anonymously given law enforcement a reason to look for Robin’s car.
“Nothin’ anonymous about it, recruit. I called ‘em myself.”
“Oh,” Win said.
“You’re gonna learn I’m always a step ahead.”
“I just thought you were focused on Cramer.”
“And you thought I can only do one thing at a time.”
“Well… emotions were runnin’ high.”
“Your head and heart were in the right place, recruit. Next time you’re tryin’ to make sure we’ve got the bases covered, ask me if I’ve already taken care of it.”
Win nodded. “Respect, Boss.”
“Got stuff to do.”
“Yep.”
Robin’s car was discovered in the barn. They hadn’t disposed of it yet.
Boss called his contacts to let them know the car had been found and to request that they end the search.
Zipper recovered enough to drive Robin home in her own car. Home meant Zipper’s house. Robin was an only child whose parents treated her like an adult and didn’t mind her staying. So she stayed.
She hadn’t been captured long enough to need medical attention. She’d been drugged, but it was already wearing off and she was home before her mother ever knew there’d been a problem. And, although Zipper wasn’t a praying man, he said a couple of silent words when, standing in the kitchen telling the story to Carla, Robin put her head on her dad’s chest and squeezed him around the waist like he was a lifeline.
CHAPTER Thirteen
It was nine o’clock before Boss came dragging into the clubhouse. Nobody there had slept at all except R.C. She was on the way to the kitchen, expecting breakfast, as Boss was coming in the door.
She looked at him curiously.
“Long story,” he said. “Give me eggs, bacon, coffee, and I’ll tell it.”
“You want to eat my cooking?” she asked.
“Fuck no. Gotta be somebody around who can fry an egg.”
They were sitting in the kitchen while Bo served up breakfast. Bertalia was off on Sunday mornings, but Bo was not a bad cook. Catcher strode in and changed the big screen security grid over to local TV where they saw a big banner at the bottom announcing ‘breaking news’ .
A young Hispanic man stood at the gate of the scene. “Property ownership has been traced to a Las Vegas shell corporation. Law enforcement officials are investigating further.”
The report alternated between shots of the farm house, shots of the entrance to Night Flight, and clips of interviews with abducted girls talking about their nightmare experience from hospital rooms. “We’re just grateful to the guys who found us.”
That prompted a couple of high fives over the kitchen table.
R.C. looked at Win across the table as he took a sip of coffee then realized it wouldn’t be prudent for somebody to witness that exchange. They might get the wrong idea.
Or the right one.
Boss was uncharacteristically quiet as he finished shoveling in eggs and gulping down coffee. “Who’s on hostage duty?”
Cue said, “Smash.”
Boss nodded thoughtfully. “Goin’ on lockdown right now. Get the word out. Women and children need to be here within the hour. Tell ‘em not to take time to pack. We can get whatever they need. Cue, you organize escorts.” Cue nodded. “Armed,” Boss added.
To R.C., he said, “You stay put where you belong till this is over, missy.” For once, R.C. didn’t argue with her dad. She just nodded. “Need the words, sugar.”
“I will stay in Austin until you give the all clear.”
Boss gave the slightest nod. “That place you got there. It’s got security?”
She barked out a laugh. “Doorman. Keyed elevator. Got a remote for my personal alarm system in every room and it’s wired directly to instant response monitoring. Plus, I got the shotgun you gave me in my closet. Crimson Trace Glock in the kitchen. Laser Sig under my pillow.”
“That is not enough guns,“ Boss said.”Whachu got in the car?”
“Ruger Centerfire.”
“Jesus,” Win said.
Boss looked at him. “We got legal carry here, recruit. She’s got a license.”
Win took in a deep breath, but said nothing more.
Boss went on talking to his daughter like nobody else was there. “You get home, you let me know you’re there. Call in sick tomorrow. You gotta have groceries or whatever, have the doorman take delivery. But hear me good, Grace, you need to hunker down and stay put. Right now you’re the valuable target that could bring us all down. You hearin’ me?”
Win looked at R.C. and could not suppress outright laughter. “Grace?” He realized too late that no one else was laughing.
R.C. turned to her father. “I. Will. Kill. You.”
“Get in line. But you’ll have to wait until this is over.” Boss looked like someone unseen was talking to him just before he looked at Win and said, “You awake enough to take my kid to get her car?”
Win glanced at R.C. before saying, “Yeah.”
“On second thought, forget her car. If people see it in the parking lot at her place here, they’ll think she is here. Garrett, you put her in that black Ford out there. The one with the real black windows. Drive her home. Make sure she gets inside safe. On her own personal lockdown. Then hightail it back here. Got plans afoot.
“Roar, put a couple of guys on their tail as escort outta town. Make sure they’re not bein’ followed before you peel off. Take off now and meet up with your escort at Stripes. The one at Sun Valley and Old Temple.”
Roar grabbed two pieces of toast off his plate as he was standing up. “Yeah, Boss.”
To R.C., Boss said, “You know how to find that Stripes?”
“Grew up here, Pop.”
“That an answer?”
“Yes. I know how to find it.”
“Christ, you are difficult.” He turned to focus on Win. “Give them fifteen minutes, then put this pain in my ass in the floorboard of that Ford until you’re out of town. Stop at that Stripes to get gas so you can pick up your escort.”
“Got it.” Win yawned.
“You can sleep when you get back,” Boss said. “Load up on those…” He turned to Cue. “What do you call those?”<
br />
“Monster drinks.”
“Yeah. Get yourself a carload of those when you’re at Stripes.”
R.C. had her head between her knees in the passenger side of the Ford. “It’s weird traveling like this. Feeling every little stop and start and turn and engine doohickey, but not bein’ able to see out.”
“After we get south of town and traffic thins out, you can sit up.” He pulled into Stripes. “Gonna top off the gas like Boss said. Then I’m goin’ in there and get some of those caffeine-rich concoctions.”
“Do not get monster drinks. Get Red Bull. Not the sugar free kind. It’s awful. Get the fully leaded. It’s not bad and it works. To a point.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Means you will get the wild-eyed caffeine shakes if you have more than one.”
“Look. After we get out of town. Why don’t you pull over and switch with me? Catch a nap while I drive us in to Austin.”
“I’m not nappin’.”
“Why not?”
“’Cause.”
“’Cause why?”
“Just ‘cause.”
“Are you ten? Stop sayin’ that and tell me the reason.”
“’Cause I want to spend time with you while I can. Don’t want to sleep through it.” R.C.’s heart seized in her chest. Her mind froze, as did her tongue. “So you make me say it out loud and I get nothin’?”
“I’m… overwhelmed.”
“In a good way?”
“In a good way.”
“When this is over, look for me to show up at your door. First, we’re gonna enjoy a nice long slow fuck. And it’s gonna be good.” R.C. looked straight ahead out the windshield while her thighs clenched convulsively. “Then we’re gonna hold each other and drown in long slow kisses that last for hours and talk about what’s gonna happen next.”
She swallowed hard. “Okay,” she whispered.
“Okay?” He smiled. She smiled shyly in return. “I’m looking forward to it, Grace.”
She wheeled on him with eyes sparking like dragon fire. “DON’T YOU EVER CALL ME THAT AGAIN AS LONG AS YOU LIVE, WIN GARRETT! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?” When Win only laughed in response, she said, “I’M NOT KIDDING!”
Devil's Marker (Sons of Sanctuary MC, Austin, Texas Book 4) Page 15