Bunker grabbed it, letting Albert pull him to his feet.
Daisy moved between the two combatants with her arms outstretched and hands pressing on each of their chests.
Dustin joined the circus, his eyes wide in disbelief. “Jesus Christ! Where did that come from, Albert?”
“Are you okay?” Daisy asked Bunker, her hands grabbing at his vest and backpack.
“I’m good.”
She turned to Albert. “And you. Explain yourself.”
Albert flared an eyebrow, his face looking smug. “Just answering a question.”
“What question?”
Albert ignored Daisy, keeping his eyes on Bunker. “Are we good?”
Bunker sent a nod of respect to Albert.
“So that’s it?” she asked, her gaze alternating between Bunker and Albert.
“That’s it,” Bunker said in his most solemn tone. “Time for me to get moving.”
She held for a moment, then huffed before stomping her way to the guard station.
Albert slid around Bunker to change places, now facing the end of Old Mill Road, his eyes peering at Daisy’s position behind Bunker.
He put a hand into his pocket and pulled out a plastic bag filled with red crystals, dangling it from his fingertips. “I’m thinking you might need this.”
Bunker recognized the infamous red crystals—Clearwater Red, the purest form of meth ever to have hit the streets. “For what?”
Albert lowered his voice. “To bribe your way past a checkpoint. It’s my finest blend, but I’m sure you already know that.”
Bunker took the gift and tested its weight with a bounce of his hand. It was roughly a pound, he figured, having held the same quantity on a number of occasions when he rode with The Kindred.
“Trust me,” Albert said in a confident tone. “That will get you wherever you need to go.”
Bunker knew Albert was right, but didn’t want to openly admit it, even though the history books were filled with countless examples of military drug use. Most of it heavy. All of it dangerous. Especially during wartime or occupation. He’d seen it firsthand during his tour of duty, despite the public zero-tolerance policy of the Pentagon.
Drugs put a warrior’s life in danger from either fatigue, over-stimulation, or euphoria. But it didn’t end there. A grunt’s comrades were also affected, relying on the addict to cover their six.
At this point, there was no reason to think the Russian troops would be immune to the epidemic of drugs. They were human, like everyone else, regardless of their reputation as ruthless, unfeeling, and ready to kill.
It would come down to pride and honor versus fear and anxiety, both sets of terms representing the primal instincts of a warrior and the root emotions of an addict. A fine line, indeed.
Some of the troops would need an escape from the stressors of constant threat. Others would be looking for temporary relief from the hours of endless boredom between duty shifts. Either way, these crystals would come in handy, if Bunker chose to use them.
Despite the clear advantage of supplying the insurgents with a powerful mind-altering substance, he knew the results would be difficult to control. More than that, it would be dangerous to seek out those troops in need. If he made contact with the wrong soldier first, it would not end well. He’d need to choose his initial target well.
Even if he could manage the outcome, fostering the use of Clearwater Red was something he preferred to avoid. Not because of potential law enforcement issues. But rather, because it would be a constant reminder of why he left The Kindred—drugs and children. Two things that should never mix.
Anytime drugs are accessible, even by accident, the potential for underage abuse is a clear and present danger. A danger he would be responsible for if he kept this gift from Tin Man.
After careful consideration, Bunker decided to hang onto the drugs. Leaving them in Albert’s hands would be a mistake. Bunker needed to get the meth out of camp before one of the kids got their hands on it.
If, later on, the crystals just so happened to come in handy with the Russians, then so be it. A bonus, he decided. But his first objective must be securing the drugs, then stowing them somewhere safe.
Bunker slid his pack off and stuffed the baggie inside the upper pouch, keeping his body between the pack and Daisy. She’d only just started to trust him again after learning his secrets. If she caught a glimpse of the drug exchange, it would tear down the foundation he’d rebuilt.
“Is there more?” Bunker asked Albert in a whisper.
“No. That’s it. But I can cook up another batch if we need it.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. Once those soldiers get a taste, they’re gonna want more. Just need someone to escort me back to my lab.”
“Like I said, we’re good.”
“Suit yourself,” Albert said, pausing. He glanced at Daisy, then back at Bunker. “Does the smoking-hot deputy know?”
“About what?”
“Your past.”
Bunker nodded, holding back his distaste for Albert’s sexual description of Daisy. “Most of it. But she’s the only one.”
Albert’s mouth flopped open. “You told her?”
“Didn’t have a choice after we ran into one of my old friends, Grinder.”
“No, I guess not,” Albert answered, his eyes indicating he was deep in thought. “Then I trust she doesn’t know of mine?”
“Not that I’m aware.”
“Good, then I hope we can keep it that way.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged. But I’m going to need something in return.”
“Name it,” Dustin said, breaking his silence.
Bunker gave three sheets of folded paper to Albert. He’d found the paper in the drawer of the entrance table by Martha Rainey’s front door. On the parchment, he’d written a long list of items and detailed instructions. “If you’re as good as you say you are, then I’ll need you use those chemistry skills to mix up some special ingredients that Tuttle has on hand. Something exotic, if you know what I mean.”
“And deliberate, I’m guessing. Russian deliberate,” Albert said after a head nod, his eyes tracking down the list. “Toads, really?”
“Can you handle it or not?”
“Sure. For Bulldog, anything.” Albert folded the documents until they were the size of a smart phone, then stuffed them into his pocket. “Anything else?”
“That’s it for now. Just have it ready when I get back. Ask Daisy if you need help. She knows where a lot of that stuff is.”
“I’m sure I can handle it.”
Bunker glanced at Daisy, then brought his attention back to Dustin and Albert. “I need to go have a chat with her. She looks a little stressed.”
“Good luck with that,” Albert said. “She’s a unique bundle.”
“That’s an understatement,” Bunker answered after a roll of his eyes.
He turned and headed to Daisy, needing to smooth things over before he went on his recon mission. If she had any questions, he needed to answer them to eliminate any fear or suspicion that might be building. If he didn’t calm her down, she might turn to someone else—someone like the Sheriff—and fill him in on a number of things Bunker wanted to keep secret.
* * *
Dustin turned to Albert after Bunker was halfway to Daisy’s position. He lowered his voice. “I can’t believe you gave our entire supply to Bunker.”
“Wasn’t doing us any good, now was it?”
“What about our deal with Burt?”
“That’s over with. Even he knows it. That’s why we haven’t spoken about it since we got here. He’s moved on to something bigger and better. I can sense it in his eyes. Just watch him when he thinks nobody is looking. It’s pretty obvious.”
“The welding projects? I thought that was only for the rifle.”
“And why do you think he wants it?”
“Not sure.”
“To ma
ke a name for himself. Slinging ice for us is the last thing on his mind. I’ll bet my last dollar he thinks that kind of firepower will allow him to rule Clearwater County, or some crazy shit like that. But first, he’ll need to take out anyone who stands in his way.”
“Like the Russians,” Dustin answered in a likeminded tone.
“And anyone else who might be in a position to stop his plans.”
“You’re talking about the Sheriff, aren’t you?”
“He’s one.”
“Daisy, too?”
“That would be my guess.”
“What about Bunker?”
“Yep. And the Mayor.”
“Seriously? How do you know all this?”
“It’s simple. You just have to think like a narcissistic sociopath who is never satisfied with anything. There’s no such thing as enough.”
Dustin took a second to consider what Albert was saying. “You’re right. He doesn’t need us anymore.”
“Exactly, which is why we step out of the way and stay off that hit list,” Albert said, his eyes still on Bunker. “No, I’m afraid the Burt experiment has come to a close. Permanently.”
“Still doesn’t explain why you gave the batch to Bunker.”
“He’s the new Burt, whether he knows it or not.”
Dustin didn’t understand the connection. “I’m sorry, what?”
“He’ll do what Burt could never do—get those crystals into the proper hands. Then we’ll have some major demand.”
“The Russians?”
Albert nodded.
“That’s why you told him to use the drugs to get past the checkpoint.”
A sly grin grew on Albert’s lips. “Imagine the power we’ll have if the entire Russian Army gets addicted to our blend! And I’m not just talking about here, in Clearwater County.”
“You think it’ll spread to other camps?”
“Count on it,” Albert said. “We’ll be able to name our price. And not just in terms of money, either.”
Visions of women, cars, food, and guns raged in Dustin’s mind. The scene changed a moment later, showing him sitting on a throne, receiving his weekly homage from the thankful peasants. “I see your point.”
“Bunker is perfect for this. He’s tougher and smarter than Burt. Plus, he’s gonna do all the work.”
“And take the heat.”
Albert laughed. “Without a cut, no less. All we have to do is prime the pump, then stand back and let it happen.”
“It is perfect,” Dustin said, appreciating the guile of his partner. “No cut means a hundred percent profit.”
“You catch on quick, my friend.”
Dustin flashed a smile, but it quickly faded when a new idea filled his brain. “But what if he decides to get rid of the meth and not distribute it?”
“Then we’re right back where we started. No harm. No foul. Plus, we look like the good guys since we tried to help.”
“So basically, there’s no downside.”
“Bingo. Zero risk and potentially endless profits. All for letting a former biker take a bag of Clearwater Red with him.”
* * *
“You okay?” Bunker asked Daisy when he arrived at her location.
She pointed at Albert. “What the hell was that?”
“A little history that needed to be sorted out.”
“New history or old?”
“A little of both.”
“Does he know about your past?”
“Yes, but only part of it.”
“How?”
“That’s not important.”
She flared her eyes. “Everything is important, Jack. We’re all depending on each other.”
“I get that, but—”
“Look, I don’t like working in the dark with all these secrets floating around.”
“No, that’s understandable. I don’t like it either.”
“I think you know by now that honesty is important to me. I don’t think that’s unreasonable to expect from you. Not after all we’ve been through.”
Bunker paused, running it through his mind. She had a right to know, but he didn’t want to lose Tin Man’s help by betraying his confidence. Bunker needed to find middle ground to keep everyone happy. “All I can tell you for now is that Albert has certain skills we’re going to need, if we have any hope of keeping everyone safe.”
“What does that mean, exactly?”
“It means . . . I need you to trust me on this. I have a couple of things to verify on my way to town, then I’ll fill you in on my plan when I get back.”
“And the Sheriff?”
“Him, too. But first I need to be absolutely sure of something. And to do that, I need you to be patient and let me do what I need to do.”
She didn’t answer.
“Please. Everyone’s life is at stake and this is the way it has to be . . . for now anyway.”
Daisy put her rifle down on the butt of its stock, leaning the barrel against the edge of the wooden barricade.
She took his free hand in hers, rubbing his fingers gently. “I hope you know I do trust you. More than you know. But you can’t keep putting me in these difficult positions. It’s making me question everything I am as a law enforcement officer, and as a woman. Sometimes I just want to throw up.”
“You’re right. This is not how it should be.”
“No, it’s not. I’m your friend and I believe in you. But I’m also a deputy sheriff. That means I’m going to need a certain amount of confidence that I’m doing the right thing, Jack. For everyone. It can’t just be about you and me.”
“I completely understand. But I do have a plan.”
Silence filled the air for the better part of a minute, her eyes fixed on his. He could feel her soul reaching out to his, trying to find some level of comfort. Faith is never easy, especially when you’re staring down the promise of death.
Daisy squeezed his hand before she spoke again. “Okay. I’ll go along for now, but when you get back, everyone comes clean. No more secrets. It’s the way it’s gotta be.”
Bunker wasn’t sure Albert would agree, but he decided to accept to her deal. Otherwise, she’d turn against him and that was something he couldn’t let happen. Not with the lives of children at risk.
In the end, he saw it as a binary choice. Either his plan was sound and they would defeat the threat, or everyone died. At that point, regardless of the outcome, nobody would care about his checkered past. Or Albert’s. More so if his plan failed, because the dead never complain.
He shook her hand loose, then pulled his pack around and set it on the ground. It took a minute of digging to find the set of long-range handheld radios he’d stuffed inside. He gave one to her.
“What’s this for?” she asked, inspecting both sides of the device with her eyes.
“To get hold of me while I’m in the field.”
“I thought we were keeping these for emergency use only.”
“We were, but I think it’s wise for the two of us to stay in touch. You know, just in case.”
“Okay. If that’s what you want. But shouldn’t the Sheriff have this?”
“That was my original plan, but he’ll have his hands full now that Victor went missing. Your name is next on the list.”
She nodded. “What about the batteries?”
“They’re fully charged.”
“Not what I meant.”
“Oh, you mean how long?”
“Yeah, like in hours or days.”
“Ten hours at least, depending on talk time,” Bunker answered, thinking about how well Tuttle had been prepared. The man even had a spare charger in the metal file cabinet where these radios were stored.
“What if you’re gone longer than that?”
“That’s why we’re only going to turn them on for five minutes at the top of every hour. If you need me, that’s when I’ll be listening.”
“All right, but what if you need me?”
“Same
thing. Turn the unit on at the top of the hour and wait. If I need you, you’ll know. Don’t call out to me. The Russians will most likely be monitoring signals. If we’re too active, they’ll get a lock on us.”
“Aren’t these encrypted?”
“Our voices, yes. But not the signal. They can still triangulate if we broadcast too long. That’s why we keep communications short, if at all.”
She nodded.
“Ideally, if would be better if these civilian models had frequency hopping built in. But since they don’t, we’ll need to use them even more sparingly.”
“Okay.”
“I’ve already set the frequency and keyed in the encryption sequence.”
“Cool. What is it?”
“314159265358979.”
She laughed. “You don’t really expect me to remember that, do you?”
“It’s the first fifteen digits of pi.”
She tilted her head, sending him a smirk.
He thought it was simple enough, but understood her doubt. “It’s stored in the flash memory so you shouldn’t need to remember it.”
“But what if I do?”
Bunker thought about it, then the answer came to him. “Albert can help you out. I’m sure he knows it.”
“Or I could write it down.”
“Fine, just don’t keep it on you.”
“Is this how you did it in the field?”
He shook his head. “Not exactly. Our tech was far superior, plus we changed the code daily.”
“That must have been a huge hassle.”
“Not really. It was all done by computer so there were no codes to input. A central laptop would dump the new daily encryption keys to a small block device, then we’d plug the block into each radio and update the day’s code. It was pretty slick, as long as everyone remembered to have their radio updated each morning.”
She tapped an index finger on her naked wrist. “Aren’t we missing something?”
“Oh shit. Almost forgot,” he said. His hand went back into the pack and pulled out a pair of Luminox Colormark watches. He put one on his wrist and she did the same. “I’ve already synchronized the time.”
She winked. “Good, then I’ll know if you’re late.”
CHAPTER 23
Bunker ignored the reins in Rusty’s hands as he walked past Tango inside the corral behind Tuttle’s place. He took a seat next to Megan on the end of the feeder station. The homemade box felt solid under his backside even though the set of 6x6 posts framing the wooden platform looked weathered. At least the galvanized timber spikes holding them together didn’t show any sign of wear.
Bunker: Boxed Set (Books 4 and 5) Page 19