“Alright, gimme a minute,” Otis said.
I shook my head. “Right now.”
“Well, just go in there if you need him right now,” Toad said.
“Need someone with me. So both of you want to go in there with me?”
Toad glanced at Otis, shifted his eyes to me, and shrugged. “If you really think we need to.”
I swallowed heavily and nodded my head. “Same as going to talk to the cops in the joint far as I’m concerned. You never go alone to talk to the man. Always go in pairs, that way nobody can start the he said she said shit. I just want witnesses.”
Otis tossed his head toward the office. “Come on.”
I followed them in the office and as they sat down, I began pacing the floor, half afraid to say anything, but more afraid not to. Part of me wanted to hop on my bike and ride to a secluded place where no one would ever find me, but I’d never avoided a good fight in my life and I didn’t think now was a time to start. As I stared at the floor and paced back and forth, Axton’s voice caused me to glance up.
“You alright, Big Jack?” he asked.
“Be fine, Boss. Just thinking,” I responded.
I pulled out a chair and sat down.
I locked eyes with Axton and spoke. “Permission to speak candidly?”
Axton broke my gaze, shifted his eyes to Toad, then Otis, and back
“What the fuck’s going on?” Axton asked as he stood from his seat.
I stood nervously.
“Sit the fuck down, you pricks are making me nervous. What the fuck’s going on here?” he asked.
“Sure, whatever. Speak freely,” he snapped.
I inhaled a deep breath, exhaled, and said what I had to.
“Think we’ve got a cop in the club, Boss,” I said flatly.
Axton narrowed his eyes and glared. “What the fuck are you talking about? There ain’t a cop patched in in this MC, I can guarantee you that much. Now why the fuck are you saying this, you nervous motherfucker? What the fuck happened?”
I stood from his seat and began pacing.
“Sit the fuck down,” Axton demanded.
“Sorry, Boss. I got to stand. Hear me out, okay?”
“Fuck it, I guess you can walk. And I’m fucking listening,” he said.
“Well, when I was in the joint, we had cops that took us to the hole in the elevator when we got a write up. They had this special key, it looks like one of them round keys for a soda machine, but it’s about half inch longer. Elevator repairmen have ‘em too, but that’s about it. It lets you stick the key in the elevator, turn on an override, and make it go to the roof or the basement or whatever. Now when I was in court the first time, and the second time for that matter, I saw the same thing. The US Marshall and the ATF fellas that took me to court in the beginning, and again the other day, they both had ‘em. They had to put ‘em in the elevator to get down to the basement to their cars. There are only a couple of elevator manufacturers, Dover and Otis. Most of the keys say one of those two names on ‘em…”
“God damn it, Big Jack, get to the point,” Axton interrupted.
“That fella they call Gunner, Boss. He’s got one of them keys on his key ring. It says Dover on it for sure, I looked at it. And unless he’s repairing elevators on the side, he’s probably a fed or a prison guard,” I said.
Toad jumped up from his seat, clenched his jaw, and began to walk toward the door. “I fucking knew it. Phony ass piece of lying shit. Motherfucker says he was in the shit, I never trusted his phony ass.”
“Sit the fuck down, Toad. God fucking damn,” Axton bellowed. “Hell, he’s been here for years, he can’t be a cop. Who vouched him in the club?”
“Don’t need the book, Slice. I can tell you who vouched him in,” Otis said.
“Who?”
“Hollywood,” Otis said.
“Fuck!” Axton screamed as he kicked the table.
Axton exchanged glances with each of us, sighed, and kicked the table again.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” he seethed as he turned around. “Who’s that cock sucker run with?”
“Ran with ‘Wood. Well, till ‘Wood committed suicide,” Toad said.
“Fuck!” Axton screamed.
He turned around and locked eyes with me. “You God damned one fucking hundred percent sure he’s got an elevator override key? One fucking hundred, not ninety-nine. You sure?”
“Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t, Boss. Hundred percent,” I responded, thinking of the keyring with the name Gunner stamped on a brass tag.
“Fuck!” Axton shouted.
“Let’s talk about this, what are we going to do?” Otis asked.
“Torture his ass, get him to admit it, and kill the fucker. Pretty simple shit,” Axton responded.
“I’ll do it,” Toad growled.
Axton shook his head. “I’ll fucking do it.”
“Hold up, Boss,” I said. “You kill this fucker now or you even kill him later, fed’s will be on this club like shit on a shoe. Whoever sent him knows he’s here. He comes up missing or turns up dead, we’re fucked.”
“Well, what the fuck do you suggest?” he growled.
“I say we kill the prick,” Otis suggested.
“ATF will be here in a quick minute,” I said as I shook my head.
“What’s the answer?” Axton asked.
I responded slowly, thinking as I spoke. “Well, he’s gonna be wearing a wire, you can bet on that. So we need to get him where we can talk to him and the wire ain’t any good. Won’t be easy, him being a cop and all, but we’ll have to do it. Anybody got a swimming pool?”
“A what? A fucking swimming pool?” Axton snarled.
“Yeah a pool. Make his ass get in the pool. Water will ruin the wire. Only way I know for sure, other than stripping him down, and then you still don’t know. Fucking things can be in their hair, ears, hell some of the fellas in the joint said they even had ‘em sewn into their clothes. So if you make him strip, and he tosses his clothes in a pile beside him, he can still be listening,” I responded.
“Biscuit’s got a pool,” Otis said.
“Alright. I’ll get with Biscuit. We’ll need to get Gunner over there without making him nervous. How in the absolute fuck are we going to do that?” Axton asked.
“Have Biscuit tell him we’ve got some pussy over there?” I said. “But don’t tell him there’s a pool, fed’s hate being around fucking pools. He’ll know what’s up for sure and he’ll call in the troops.”
“I hope you’re wrong,” Axton said as he fixed his eyes on me.
“Ain’t wrong Boss,” I assured him.
“You fellas go out in the shop and act like nothing happened. Is the fucker out there now?” Axton asked.
“Was a minute ago,” I responded.
“Fuck!” Axton growled as he kicked the table so hard he almost tipped it over.
“Where’s Biscuit?” Axton asked.
“Fucking the girl from the bar,” Otis said.
“Alright, I’ll call him. Stay out in the shop, and just follow my lead. I’ll be out in a minute,” Axton said.
The thought of an ATF agent or a cop in the club made me nervous about even being in a MC, but I knew I had no other choice. The MC way of life was my only shot at ever having a family, and what little I’d seen of the Sinners, their way of doing things was right in line with what I believed to be best.
“Big Jack?” Axton said as Otis opened the door.
“Yeah Boss?” I responded over my shoulder.
“Your cut looks good on ya, and this is damned sure where you belong. And about this…” He shifted his eyes to meet my gaze. “Good lookin’ out, Jack. Good lookin’ out.”
“Just doin’ my job, Boss,” I responded as I stepped through the door.
As far as I was concerned, I had an obligation, and the men in the club expected me to fulfill it no differently than I expected them to do the same. Backing away from a situation like this one wasn’t an
option, and as much as I hated the thought of an ATF agent or any kind of cop infiltrating the club, I had a responsibility to stand up and do everything in my power to protect the men in the club from going through what I went through.
Even if it meant I’d have to do it all over again.
Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Eight
JACK
Being right all the time is impossible. I made it a point to never give my word on something unless I was convinced I was right, or at least that I believed deep down inside that I was standing up for something I believed in with all my heart. Obtaining confirmation on my belief was always something that made me feel as if I was receiving a pat on the back from the man upstairs.
“You’ve been my field assignment for two and almost one half years. There’s no one else on this investigation. I swear to you. I had a meeting a few weeks ago with the director, and he’s pissed because I claimed I wasn’t ready to testify before a Federal Grand Jury…” Gunner stammered as he tried to keep his head above water.
We had been at Biscuit’s pool for some time, and Axton was interrogating Gunner, waving a gun in his face the entire time. Participating in the fiasco was satisfying in many respects; knowing I was right about Gunner being a cop wasn’t necessarily all I wanted, but it was all I needed. This was Axton’s club, and his decision, regardless of what it was, would be supported by me.
“What in the fuck does this have to do with anything? Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t like cops. You’re a fucking cop. If I took a vote right now, at least four of these fellas would agree to kill you. My math skills aren’t too damned shabby, and that’s eighty fucking percent, excluding you. Damned sure a majority,” Axton growled.
“Look,” Gunner pleaded as he tried to continue to tread water.
“I started investigating the Sinners on guns. In the last two years, you really haven’t done anything contrary to law. Might be a stretch, but possibly selling guns to a prohibited person is all I can come up with. To indict you, I need to testify and turn in my reports. Reports come first. If I don’t, there’s no case. Period. End of story. I’ll agree to not testify, how’s that?” he begged.
Biscuit stood beside the swimming pool with a long aluminum pole. As soon as Gunner spoke, he swung the end of into his head, cutting his face alongside his nose.
“You’ve got to be fuckin’ shittin’ me…” Biscuit grunted as the pole came down on Gunner’s head.
“You no good son-of-a-fuckin’-cop-bitch,” Biscuit howled as he raised the pole again, “I’ll just beat you to death if they won’t let me shoot you.”
Axton raised his hands in the air and screamed. “God fucking damn it, Biscuit. Put the pole down.”
“Ain’t happenin’, Slice. These fuckin’ cops, you can’t trust ‘em. Probably got a Smith and Wesson .44 Magnum shoved up his ass as a backup piece. I’m keepin’ the pole,” Biscuit responded as he held the pole over his head, ready to strike again.
“Well, don’t hit him with the fucker again unless I tell you to,” Axton said, laughing as he spoke.
Axton shifted his eyes to where Gunner was treading water in the pool. “I don’t trust you any further than I can throw you, you fat son-of-a-bitch. Don’t think I can agree to that.”
“You’ve got two options,” Gunner explained. “Kill me, or let me go. That’s it.”
“Fuck this motherfucker, Slice. He’s tryin’ that cop psycho-babble mind game shit on us,” Biscuit grunted.
Axton raised his hand in the air. “Put it down, God damn it, Biscuit.”
“Man’s got a point, Boss,” I said. “We’ve only got two fucking options. Kill him, or let him go.”
“Well, what the fuck do you four fuckers want to do?” Axton growled as he tossed his hands in the air.
“Kill him,” Biscuit snapped back.
“Same. I say we kill him,” Toad agreed.
I exhaled and nodded my head as I turned to face Axton. “Want to kill him, Boss, but it ain’t too practical. Soon as he doesn’t report in, they’ll come to the clubhouse.”
“Hand me the gun,” Otis said.
“We need to talk about this, my fucking head’s spinning,” Axton said as tossed his hands in the air, still holding the gun in one hand.
“Hand me the fucking gun,” Otis demanded.
Axton took a step back and narrowed his gaze. Otis shook his head in apparent disgust, walked to the table where Gunner’s gun was sitting, grabbed it, and stomped to the end of the pool.
“Shut the fuck up. Every fucking one of you. Just shut the fuck up, especially you,” Otis yelled as he pointed the gun at Gunner.
“God damn it, Otis,” Axton bellowed.
“Shoot the motherfucker!” Biscuit hollered.
“Otis!” Axton growled.
“Every god damned one of you, shut the fuck up!” Otis yelled.
Otis jumped in the pool, grabbed Gunners head in one hand, and pushed the barrel of the pistol in his eye with the other.
“Listen to me, motherfucker, and listen good. I’m not like these other four fuckers. I’m the quiet one you need to worry about. You’ve been here two and a half years, so you know I’m the protector of this fucking MC, regardless of who wears the SAA patch,” Otis seethed. “You’ve got one opportunity to answer each question I ask. One. If you don’t, I’ll pull this fucking trigger.”
“Otis!” Axton yelled.
Otis didn’t flinch.
I hadn’t had much exposure to Otis other than a few drinks in the bar, but from what I was seeing, he was a no nonsense type of fella. Immediately, regardless of the outcome of the fucked up situation, I had more respect for him.
“What’s your God given name?” Otis asked through his teeth.
“Allen. Allen Pintler,” Gunner murmured.
“Current place of residence?”
“Wichita. Right here in Wichita,” Gunner responded.
“Got a wife and kids?”
“Uhhm. I uhhm, yeah. I have a family,” he cried.
Otis nodded his head and pushed the pistol deep into Gunner’s eye socket. “You’ve got one option and one option only, and I’m going to explain it to you. You’re going to get out of this pool, dry off, get dressed in some of Biscuit’s clothes, and you and I are going to go to your house in Biscuit’s truck. You’re going to prove to me that it’s your house by showing me your fucking mail, pictures of you with your fucking wife, and pictures of you with your kids. Your kids old enough to have laptops?”
What the fuck?
“What? Laptops?” Gunner muttered.
“Easy question, motherfucker. Do your fucking kids have laptops?”
“Yeah, they both do,” he responded.
“Alright, again, listen carefully,” Otis explained. “You’re going to allow us access to their laptops, and we’re going to put a LoJack on them, just to make sure you don’t try and run anywhere. We’ll track your kid’s whereabouts, and we’re going to put one on your bike and your personal car as well. And we’ll track you. You either refuse to testify to the Grand Jury, or I’m going to kill your wife and kids. It’s that simple. This isn’t a threat, it’s a solemn promise. If I’m going to spend life in prison, it isn’t going to be on your terms, it’s going to be on mine. You agree to these conditions?”
“Don’t hurt my kids, just don’t hurt my kids,” Gunner cried.
As I saw the fear in Gunner’s eyes, it was pretty obvious Otis had hit a soft spot with him in regard to his kids. Something he undoubtedly held sacred, the one thing he loved more than he loved himself. To him, his kids were what Em was to me. I nodded my head in an understanding manner, satisfied Otis was going to get exactly what he wanted from Gunner.
Good work, Otis.
If there was a way to stop Gunner from proceeding with his investigation, and, in turn, prevent anyone from going through the hell I was forced to live in through my arrest, incarceration, trial, and prison, I was all for it. If Gunner crossed the line by getti
ng one of the Sinners drunk, begging them to say something, and arresting him for doing so, I would vote his fate be much different.
As I gazed down into the pool, I thought of agent Blackburn and what his fate should be now that I was available to administer the punishment I felt fit his crime. The only sufficient punishment was a decade in prison, and as that wasn’t going to happen, I felt killing him was the only real option.
“It’s all up to you, Special Agent Allen Pintler. It’s all up to you,” Otis said as he extended his arm over his shoulder, handing Axton the pistol.
Otis climbed from the pool and turned toward Axton. “Sorry, Slice. It was the only thing I could think of.”
Axton shook his head. “LoJack’s? Where the fuck did you come up with that?”
“Got one on my car and another on my laptop. They work pretty damned good, you can track them in real time on the internet,” Otis said.
One more thing I must have missed in the last ten years…
“Get out of the pool,” Axton demanded as he nodded toward Gunner.
“Toad’s going with you. Toad, if he tries anything, and I mean anything, do whatever a war torn Marine thinks is best,” Axton explained.
“You got it, Slice,” Toad responded.
I turned to face Axton. He reached out and patted me on the shoulder. After a short hesitation he extended his hand. I reached for it, shook his hand, and as I did, he pulled me into him, and hugged me. As he held me, he whispered words that meant more to me than anything I’d heard in years.
“Love ya, brother,” he said.
“Just doing my job, Boss,” I responded.
And I meant every word I said.
Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Nine
A-TRAIN
Once a Marine, always a Marine. I had said it before and I would undoubtedly say again: I took an oath to protect the citizens of the United States of America from terrorists on our soil and abroad. The oath had no expiration date, and I’ve never had as much as an ounce of admiration for a man who couldn’t keep his promises.
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