“I agree,” he said, a soft smile curling the edges of his lips.
“Promise? No weirdness? No doubts?”
“Nope. In my heart I’m an old-fashioned guy, so…”
“There’s something else that needs saying. Remember when you pulled out my drawer and saw that unopened package? I was telling the truth when I said it was old. I may not have brought it with me from New York but I’ve had it for ages.”
“We’re okay, everything’s okay,” he said reaching across the table and taking her hand, “now I need to get back to the case and bring you up to speed.”
“Yes, yes please.”
“You know Kratos has a right hand guy called Dennis Handley”
“Yep.”
“He’s disappeared.”
“No shit? That’s not good.”
“It gets worse. Kratos told me yesterday the last delivery of heroin went missing. Even after all this time I still have no idea how this HH guy gets the product to Kratos, but I have learned Dennis is involved. We’ve had him followed countless times but nothing ever panned out. Anyway, Kratos was summoned.”
“Yikes!”
“No kidding! He was totally freaked out. Until yesterday I’d never seen him scared. Being paranoid, yes, but not genuinely scared. When I checked in just now I heard his meeting was at some luxury mansion in a gated community in the Hollywood Hills.”
“Now that’s interesting, and it fits.”
“It does?”
“Yeah. Remember we got wind of all this because of that actress we busted, but keep going.”
“He left in one piece, so that’s the good news. He dropped Nancy off at their house and went on to the tavern. The strange thing is, he said he’d let me know if he made it through the meeting safely so we could come back but I haven’t heard from him.”
“Huh. That is strange. How long ago did he get home?”
“At least a couple of hours.”
“I wonder what that means. Have you found out who owns the house where the meeting took place?”
“The fact that he hasn’t called could mean anything. Maybe he wants some peace and quiet for a while. Maybe he’s getting ready to accept a second delivery and it’s easier when there’s no-one around. Who knows? The house in the hills is owned by a company. They’re researching the title right now, but our eyes in the sky told us there was a serious party going on when Kratos was there. The motor court packed with high-end cars.”
“We know HH is distributing to the Hollywood crowd, and according to that actress there are some major stars enjoying it, but she refused to name names, but the point is, if that’s where Kratos had to go, and there was a big party going on, maybe we’ve found their base. That would be amazing.”
“Dear, Lord, please let it be!’
“So, Marco…wait…is that your real name?”
“It is. I rarely change my first name when I’m working. Marco D’Angelo is my full name.”
“Seriously?” she exclaimed, her eyes widening. “Marco D’Angelo?”
“Yeah, why so excited?”
“I’m kind of a nut on names, and Marco is derived from Mars—the Italian God of War, and D’Angelo is Angel, or, from the Angels, to be precise. You truly are a Warrior Angel.”
“I’m not sure how to respond to that,” he said with a sheepish grin. “What about Kat?”
“It’s short for Katrina, and it means pure.”
“And your surname?”
“Where is that waitress?”
“Oooh, so we’re avoiding that are we? Come on, out with it.”
“Good grief. You’ll never let me live this down.”
“You won’t be sitting down comfortably if you don’t tell me.”
“Okay, fine, you’ll find out anyway. Campbell, and, uh, it means, wry-mouthed.”
“So you were born a pure smart-ass!” he exclaimed, then laughed out loud, and kept laughing for several seconds.
“Good grief, please can we change the subject?” she begged. “I need to make sure we haven’t missed anything.”
“This is too good,” he said shaking his head and still chuckling, “but sure. Go ahead.”
“You tracked Kratos to a home in the Hollywood Hills that might be a base of operations. That’s great news, but Kratos is alive and choosing not to let you know. That’s weird. Oh, by the way, I have my guys checking out Mike’s Garage. What do you know about that place?”
“Mike’s a thug, his garage is a chop shop, and I’m confident he’s up to his neck in all kinds of crap.”
“My instinct tells me the same thing.”
“I’ve always thought the security in that place is over the top even for a chop shop,” he said, his frivolity abruptly giving way to consternation. “I spent some time up there late at night surveilling the place but nothing out of the ordinary ever happened.”
“Is that everything?”
“Seems like it, and talk about perfect timing. Here comes our pizza.”
“What do we do now?”
“Now? Now we eat.”
As the large pie was placed in the middle of the table, Marco ordered them a bottle of red wine.
“We have some celebrating to do,” he said happily as the waitress left to collect it.
“I completely agree, and this pizza looks incredible. By the way, where are we staying tonight? Can we find somewhere nice?”
“No.”
“NO?”
“Screw nice. I want really nice. It’s been almost two years since I’ve been anywhere really nice. As long as we’re up here we’re going to make the most of it, and I know exactly where to go.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It had been a short time after Kratos had started working for HH, that Tank had surprised Kratos with a gift; a framed color blowup of a photograph featuring Kratos sitting on his bike in front of the tavern. It had been a complete surprise, and Kratos had been genuinely touched. Tank had insisted on mounting it, and had placed it on the wall above the couch directly opposite the desk. Several months later Kratos had killed a fly with a rolled up magazine, and wiping it off with a paper towel he had spied a tiny camera lens. The discovery had been shocking, but not just because it was immediately obvious Tank had turned traitor; it had coincided with something else.
The night before he and Nancy had been watching a movie about a blackmailer who used a hidden camera. Finding it, the victim lured the blackmailer into a trap, ultimately killing him and retrieving most of his money, along with a fortune in jewelry and other cash. If Kratos had not seen the movie, his reaction when he’d seen the camera in the headlamp of the motorbike would have been uncontrollable rage, but fate had shown him another path. Fighting his fury he’d turned away, and idly tossing the paper towel into the wastebasket, he’d left the tavern and jumped on his bike for a long, fast ride.
Tank’s remarkable gift had coincided with the start of Kratos’s relationship with HH. It made sense. The ruthless gang were the only people who could have compromised his longtime friend, no doubt by scaring him senseless, but for Kratos such things were black and white. Tank was a traitor. End of story. When his rage had passed, Kratos realized his involvement with HH would be his ultimate demise. He had discussed the undeniable and frightening reality with his beloved Nancy for endless hours in the backyard hot tub, with music playing and the water bubbling. They’d decided the only answer was to start over far away from Los Angeles.
When Kratos had stepped into the opulent library in the grand glass home in the Hollywood Hills, and been presented with the polygraph machine, he’d seen it as fate. It was one more amazingly fortuitous event in a string of fortuitous events.
Several years before he had hijacked a liquor delivery truck. Everything had gone off without a hitch, but when the police had turned up at the tavern asking questions he’d been furious. How the hell had they tied him to the robbery? In a fit of anger he’d challenged them.
“Give me a fucking lie detect
or test. If I’d done it, don’t you think I’d have an alibi lined up?”
To his dismay they’d taken him up on his offer. In a panic he’d contacted a shadowy figure, who, for a ridiculous amount of money, claimed he could train anyone to beat the machine. It had taken many painstaking hours locked in a small room, but it had worked. The cops had hooked him up, and he’d passed with flying colors.
HH presenting him with a lie detector machine was the last thing Kratos had expected. With the nanny cam in his office watching his every move, he’d thought the scene he’d played out with Marco would have convinced HH that he’d had no part in the disappearance of the missing heroin. He’d been wrong, and as he’d stood in the library with the fate of his precious Nancy in his hands, staring at the polygraph, suddenly the money he’d handed over those many years before was worth every red cent.
But beating the machine for the second time hadn’t been easy. Kratos had to summon all his self-control, and he was quaking when he’d left the party.
After dropping Nancy back at their house, he’d continued on to the tavern, and now seated behind his desk, a glass of his best bourbon in his hand, he stared around his office. He hated to leave, but HH, whoever the fuck HH was, had given him no choice. Becoming involved with the evil drug kingpin had been a huge mistake, and escaping the clutches of the vicious organization had taken months of careful planning, but now he was only twenty-four hours away from making his dreams with Nancy become reality. Over the previous months he’d skimmed a significant amount of money from the business, and with the unexpected $100,000 he’d been given that morning at the glass palace, he and Nancy would be in good shape.
He swallowed down his drink, looked fondly around his office, rose to his feet, and headed out the door for the very last time.
“Are you riding to the rocks?” Tank asked as Kratos walked into the bar. “Marco called, wondered if I’d heard from you. I figured if you’d wanted him to know you were back you would’ve been in touch so I said no.”
“I’m going up there now. I’ll give him a call when I pick up Nancy. I need you to do me a favor. Ride up to Barkers Bar. It’s one of Dennis’s favorite haunts. Ask around. Find out if anyone’s seen him up there.”
“What about this place?”
“I’ll close up after you leave. Jim can open up when he gets in later. Right now I’m more interested in finding Dennis.”
“Okay, I’ll take off now.”
“Call right away if you learn anything.”
As Tank grabbed his jacket and ambled out to his Harley, Kratos frowned grimly. Tank was going to have a very unfortunate accident. About the time he’d be riding down the twisting canyon road to the popular motorcycle haunt in the canyons, his brakes would fail. Kratos watched his former friend ride away, then walking behind the bar he emptied the cash register. Stuffing his pockets, he turned and let his eyes wander through the tavern, indulging himself in some treasured memories, then finally ready he walked out, climbed on his bike, and headed off to Mike’s Garage where Nancy was waiting.
Mike! Another thorn in his side. The big lug was a greedy, manipulative motherfucker, and he’d screwed Kratos one too many times. Honor among thieves did not exist in Mike’s world, and the bastard was about to get what was coming to him.
Several days before, Kratos had made him a remarkable offer.
“You still got those big-time connections south of the border?” Kratos had asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yeah, sure, why?”
“You think you can sell a full package of my high-grade smack?”
Mike had stared at him in astonishment, then narrowed his eyes.
“You goin’ into business for yourself? Ain’t that a death warrant?”
“Not if it’s handled right. You’ve gotta move it fast, and it’s gotta be done in Mexico. Let a whiff of it hit the streets around here, and yeah, we’re dead, but if you can unload it down South, I’ll split it with you fifty-fifty. You game?”
“You’re shittin’ me? Fuck yeah, I’m game. Course I’ll have to discount it heavily to move it that fast.”
“No sweat. I figured.”
“I’ll vamoose tomorrow. It should only take me a few days.”
Kratos knew Mike would shaft him. Mike would stash the drugs and hand over a pittance, but a pittance was still a huge chunk of cash, and he and Nancy would be long gone by the time Mike discovered he was the one who’d been royally fucked over.
The hot chick showing up with a bike from New York with the plates still on, Kratos had seen as fate’s last gift. The icing on the cake.
Riding up the winding road to Mike’s Garage, Kratos could already picture the coming days; palm trees, the warm tropical breeze, and the soft white sand under his toes. Under new identities he and Nancy would be boarding a luxury ship bound for the Caribbean where they’d spend two weeks on a remote island deciding where they’d settle. The Bay of Islands in New Zealand and the Gold Coast of Australia topped the list. Rolling to a stop outside the chop-shop, he climbed off and spied Nancy sitting on a tree stump near the side of the road. He wasn’t surprised. She hated Mike and his filthy workplace.
“Hi, honey,” Nancy beamed running over to meet him. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Hey, sweet cheeks,” Kratos said with a wide grin. “I’m glad to be here too! Where’s Mike?”
“Inside. Be quick, okay? I really want to get out of here. I’m nervous.”
“Listen, if anything was going to happen with HH, it would have by now,” he said quietly as they headed towards the garage. “Trust me. We’re good.”
“How’s it hangin’?” Mike called as he lumbered out to meet them.
“Great,” Kratos replied. “Is everything cool? No problems down South?”
“Easy as pie. Lemme get your cash. You think we can pull this shit again? Fastest chunk of moolah I ever made.”
“Maybe in a few months.”
Walking over to one of the many tubs of motor oil laying on the floor, Mike carefully pushed it aside revealing a round metal plate. Lifting it up he reached inside and pulled out a plastic shopping bag.
“I had to discount it heavy. If we’d been able to move it on the streets he’d have tripled what’s in there, but you said fast. Bike’s all done. It’s right there.”
Kratos took the plastic bag, and opening it up he fanned through the wads of bills. Satisfied, he walked over to Kat’s bike, now painted black, and placed it inside one of the saddlebags.
“You ready, Nancy? I wanna get to the rocks before sunset.”
“Yeah, I’m ready, you bet I’m ready.”
“I’m dyin’ to know why you want that girl’s bike,” Mike muttered. “She’s gonna be really pissed when I tell her it was stolen. Aren’t you worried she’ll recognize it, even with the black paint job and the parts I switched out?”
“If I was worried, would I be ridin’ it?” Kratos scoffed. “We’re outta here, and I don’t need to tell you not to throw your money around, right?”
“How stupid do you think I am? No fuckin’ way do I want HH and his guys breathin’ down my neck.”
Rolling Kat’s bike outside, Kratos and Nancy donned their helmets, climbed on board and rode off. With his hands on his hips Mike chuckled with glee. The money he’d handed over to Kratos wasn’t from the sale of the heroin, it was from his own stash of cash. He’d take the drugs down to Mexico for sure, but he’d do it at his leisure and get twice as much. Kratos was such a chump! Returning to the shop he put the metal cover back in its place, and moved the oil pan over it.
Kratos and Nancy were headed to San Pedro where they’d be staying overnight at the plush Las Terrazas Resort. She would give him a makeover, cutting off his long brown hair and bleaching it blond. The following morning they’d pick up phony passports featuring their new names, William and Sabrina Easterbrook, and in the afternoon, they’d board the ship and be on their way to their new life. While HH would be spinning hi
s wheels looking for the missing delivery, Tank would either be in a wooden box or laying in a hospital bed seriously injured, and Big Mike would be dealing with more shit falling on his head than he could ever imagine.
Kratos had just turned the corner and entered the main street that would take them to the freeway, when a slew of black SUV’s with darkly tinted windows roared past them. With tires squealing the vehicles careened around the bend, then took off at high speed. Kratos recognized the signature vehicles; they were either FBI, DEA, or Tobacco and Firearms. It was shocking to see them, and slowing the bike he pulled to the side of the road.
“What’s wrong?” Nancy asked. “Why did you stop?”
“Those SUV’s. I’m sure they’re the Feds.”
“Ooh—do you think they’re going to Mike’s?”
“This is a crap area. They could be going anywhere.”
“Should we go back and take a look?”
“No, we’ll stick with the plan. I’ll make the call right before we get on the ship.”
But Kratos was rattled. A chill was moving through his body, and with an odd sense of panic rippling through his veins, he roared off down the street and up the ramp to the highway.
David Pane had been driving the huge semi-truck for hours. He was tired, but he was on high alert. The traffic was flowing at a fast clip, but a white SUV had been weaving in and out of lanes. The erratic driver had already pulled in front of him a couple of times with no signal and with little room to spare.
Just as Kratos rode on to the freeway, the white SUV sandwiched itself in front of the semi, but at that precise moment the car in front hit his brakes. With no room to swerve away the white SUV slammed into him. David, in a desperate effort to avoid sandwiching the SUV, swung his huge semi into the lane on his right, a lane that had been clear just a moment before.
He saw the motorcycle, but too late.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Motorcycle Master Page 9