by Bella Knight
“Good work,” she said. As the door closed, they heard her say, “Sometimes I hate undercover agents.” Saber and Jess grinned at each other.
“Where to now, boss?” asked Jess, as they paid an astronomical amount to get their Harleys out of parking.
“Food, then we go to Albuquerque to pick up one member, then up to Phoenix for the other one.”
“Why not just have them meet us in Vegas? That’s where you’re out of, right?”
“Home environment,” said Saber. They grabbed food at a diner on their way out of town.
They found Redding James transporting a prisoner around midnight from ATF into witness protection. They followed the black SUV almost all the way to WITSEC’s office, then pulled off and ate fish tacos at a late-night taco joint several blocks away. Redding came up on a black Harley Road King, one with maroon trim, and did the shake-with-shoulder-clap men who were friends gave each other with Saber.
“Finally off the shit jobs list,” said Redding. He shook Jess’ hand exactly the same way. “Redding,” he said.
“Jess,” she said.
“So, we’re the Harley Crew,” Redding said. “Got a sweet deal on this one. Had the guy park it near here.”
“Haven’t met our third yet,” said Saber.
“Phoenix,” said Jess. “Long drive, eat up.” Jess seemed to be wide awake in the orange light of the streetlamps. Saber made an executive decision to move on. He wanted to get home. So, he nodded.
“On it,” said Redding. He ordered tacos. He ate the grilled beef in giant bites, and ate five tacos in just a few minutes. They finished their tacos, Jess gave Redding their TAC frequency, and they were off.
Saber got a text when he checked his phone at a pit stop. Piston was on her way to Flagstaff. They got there, and Saber texted her the name of their blue-roofed hotel which was just outside the city limits on the I-40. They all crashed hard. When they woke up six hours later, Piston was there with breakfast sandwiches and coffee. She took Redding’s shoulder-clasping greeting with equanimity, and did the same for the rest of them.
Since he had the team together and had gotten some sleep, Saber realized he’d have to get them apartments. He texted Tito, and got them a sweet deal on a three-bedroom, a six-month lease. He said, “You guys want to share one apartment? Three bedrooms, six month lease, pool, Jacuzzi, weight room. Or you could go separate…”
“Monthly?” asked Pella. He told her the rent. “Much better than we could do separately, and it saves the cost of a gym membership. Those suckers are pricey. I say we do it.”
“Doable,” said Jess.
Redding grinned. “You want me to live with two beautiful women who would kill me in my sleep if I step over the line? Sure, why not.” Saber texted an affirmative to Tito before they lost the apartment.
Jess grinned. “And don’t you forget it. Part of why we took awhile. Had to take a few hours out to send an attempted rapist to prison. Kinda fun. One of the more interesting three hours of my life.”
“Wait,” said Pella. “Three hours?”
“He groped me during practice. A few minutes to take him down, a few hours tying it all up,” said Jess. “Got the intel from boss-man here.”
“Daisy Chain,” said Saber.
“One step leads to another?” asked Pella.
Saber laughed. “A way to work cases, but in this case, a name. Hacker. Can get info with her liquid-cooled electrons. Law enforcement uses her all the time.” He grinned. “You’ll get to know all our allies. Join some motorcycle clubs, get to know the emergency codes, and who you can call on. We’ve got Nighthawks, that’s me, Iron Knights, that may be you, Redding, unless you want the Nighthawks. You ladies can join the Nighthawks or the Valkyries.”
“Boss, you talk crazy talk,” said Jess. “We’re fucking Valkyries all the way.”
“Heard of them,” said Pella. “Nobody fucks with them.” She grinned, and finished her orange juice. “Nobody fucks with me, either.”
“Good,” said Saber, and stood. “We ride.” He threw away the bag of trash, went to use the restroom. The others went to clean up and move out. They checked out, and Saber got to see Pella’s Street Glide Special, black with a touch of orange. She grinned, made the bike roar, and took point on the road to Vegas.
“Bringing a child into the world is wonderful, and terrifying.”
3
Weary Love
“Love is patient, and kind, but sometimes exhausted.”
The screams rose. Freya rose up, put on her light silk robe, and went into Fire’s room. Fire was shaking and sobbing; Trace was already in there, rubbing her back. “Just an old memory,” said Trace. “Not happening now.”
“They burned up,” said Fire.
“They did,” said Trace. “But that’s over now.”
“Wish it were me,” said Fire.
Trace smacked Fire in the back of the head, gently. “No, you don’t, asshole. Remember the mission.”
“Learn the bikes and the dogs so we can bring in more soldiers,” said Fire.
Freya looked at her feet. A puppy was there, whining. Freya picked her up, and brought Rudi, the spaniel, to Fire. Fire held the dog, and Rudi licked her face. “Puppy delivery,” said Freya. “Now, everyone get the fuck back to sleep. We’ve got teens, and dogs, and bikes that won’t build themselves.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Fire.
“Yes,” said Trace. “Let me get Fire some water, be asleep in six.”
“Good,” said Freya. She went back to bed.
Chance raised her head. “Bad one?”
Freya stepped over her daughters’ sleeping bags. “The usual,” said Freya. “Rudi showed up.”
“She’s gonna be a social anxiety or autism dog,” said Chance.
“Smarter to keep that one here,” said Freya.
“Mmmf,” said Rhodes. “Go to sleep. And, Mama, you’re right about the dog.”
“I am,” said Freya. She lay down on her cot and went to sleep.
Morning came bright and early. They had bikes to finish. Chance and Rhodes helped Radium and Rayne make fruit and protein powder smoothies, and banana nut and lemon poppy seed muffins with butter and honey. They chattered, all except Fire, who looked to be dead asleep on her feet.
They had the inventory, and had the software the Nevada Wolfpack had created for Robert and Bonnie listing everything —the bikes, parts ordered, parts being painted, and a timeline to get each bike done. At the moment, every bike had an owner. In the past, they refurbished bikes and just sold them, but the new program allowed them to put a dead bike they planned to refurbish up on their website, and people could order custom parts and paints, and pay some money down. As the bikes were completed, the bike payments were completed, and the new owners made their way to the Rock House Farm to pick them up.
At first, they’d been leery about how to make money. Now, the Rock House Soldier Pack could see it all —money going out for the smashed or nonworking bikes, parts ordered, how much the painting cost, and the end product. They were increasingly willing to deal with barked knuckles and heavy lifting and disassembly, and learning how to do the perfect weld.
The dogs were another story. Every single woman got how important the dogs could be. They noticed how Rudy got Fire back to sleep. They saw how the puppies would break their hearts to learn anything the women wanted to teach them. So, they invited Pavel down to show them everything. He stayed two days. They rotated feeding, walking, playing, and training duties, and were on a strict schedule. Everyone loved him, and after being fed mercilessly, he went back to Arizona a half-kilo heavier.
They lived by timers on their cell phones, and the household, dog training, and bike assembly schedules. Alvitr was in charge of the schedule, as Freya was leaving soon. After the attack, all of them had sleeping and eating disruptions. Hence the smoothies; they added protein shakes to them —flavorless for the fruit ones, and flavored if they wanted to mix them with almond or walnut milk. Alvit
r and Freya watched to be sure that each woman got the proper nutrition, with or without stress nightmares. The only woman that had no trouble after the assault on their compound was Desert. She took it all in her stride, and showed neither stress nor anxiety symptoms.
They also increased the physical training. They sparred with the Valkyries, blazed trails all over the farm to double as running and dog walking trails, and did hours of yoga and martial arts training. Chance and Rhodes seemed to blossom on their schedule. They learned Harleys along with the women, and they all took classes.
The Soldier Pack had meetings to determine if they were going to take courses in business, computer programming so they could maintain and update the website the Nevada Wolfpack built for them, Harley certification, dog training certification, or whatever else each woman desired. They decided, as a unit, to do all four —business, coding, dog training certification, and to rotate going to Colorado for Harley certification. They took each class simultaneously, and were therefore able to help one another if someone had a hard time with a class. They drew lots, and Chick went to Colorado after she completely disassembled and reassembled an off-road Harley by herself, including the chrome powder paint job. Alvitr took her pod.
Fire and Trace stayed with the dogs. Fire didn’t know it, but they also had a schedule to be sure someone was with Fire at all times. The woman was so exhausted, and still having trouble eating, that they were worried about her walking into walls or dropping a heavy wrench on her foot. The rest of them, including Freya, Rhodes, and Chance, went to work on the Harleys. Rhodes and Chance took Chick’s spot in the workroom, and Alvitr and Freya rotated working on the bikes with the girls helping. The girls got to the point where they could do almost everything, except the welding and the heavy lifting. Rhodes became quite the expert at hooking up brakes and electrical systems. Aldrnari often woke up before the other Inner Warrior band members, and played blazing solos in the loft as they worked. Fysa would come out and either play the violin, or bass guitar. Logi sang and did drums last, as she was often the last to wake up, and was in charge of kitchen cleanup as her daily chore.
Rhodes had one hell of a voice, and both girls learned drums. With their cut of the profits, they got an electronic drum set, and would take turns sitting behind Logi, and learning to pound out beats. Chance was a good dancer, and turned her yoga, aikido, and Valkyrie fighting movies into a series of dances she taught to Rhodes. As a result, both girls became much faster on their feet and, therefore, better warriors. Fire watched, and she asked the girls to teach her the moves, with and without the fighting stick or sword. Fire grew more confident, slept harder, drank more water and juice, and began eating a handful of something —trail mix, jerky, dried apples, or chocolate-covered nuts or raisins —every two to three hours. Her deaths-head face filled out, her cheeks developed color. Her fire-red hair, dulled by stress and a lack of sleep, developed bounce and shine. Her abs got harder and harder, and she began to do things she couldn’t even have done in the army, like the yoga-based handstands. And, for the first time, she began to sleep, and to dream, without the taste of ashes in her mouth.
On a bright morning, Aldrnari stretched, then walked with Fire, then they broke into a light jog. Both women wore sports tank tops, shorts, and Nikes, Fire in red, and Aldrnari in coral. They didn’t speak, just panted. They stretched out their legs and went into sprints, jogs, then sprints. They ended up in the pasture behind the barn, gasping. They both drank from their water bottles.
“You think we should get some horses?” asked Fire, when they got their breath under control.
“Feeding something at five thirty in the morning?” Aldrnari snorted. “Dream on.” She laughed, and started singing the Aerosmith song. Fire joined in at the falsetto, startling Aldrnari.
“Damn, girl,” said Aldrnari. “You can sing some notes.”
Fire laughed. “I can.” They began their stretches. “The little monster, Chance, she has been teaching me Latin, and Old Norse. How come you have the same as me in Norse?”
Aldrnari laughed. “I’ve been told I play like I’m on fire,” she said.
“You do,” said Fire. They began to walk around, and to do foot circles and standing and bending toe touches.
“You build Harleys well,” said Aldrnari. “Precise. You also do the fighting dance thing.”
“The little demon, Rhodes, she taught me that,” she said. “Try learning Old Norse and Latin while a little girl is trying to kill you with a stick.”
Aldrnari laughed. “Looks like I’ll have to join.”
“Rotation starts in…” Fire checked her phone. “Two hours.”
“Well, gotta shower and get a set in, then,” said Aldrnari, “I’ll see you then.”
“Good,” said Fire.
Aldrnari turned and started jogging. She looked back over her shoulder. “You checking out my assets, soldier?”
Fire swore under her breath. “How did you know?”
Aldrnari turned and smiled. “I see your eyes, Fire. They’re always on me.” She grinned, showing the dimples she hated, and loped back to the house.
Fire stood there, gasping, wondering at her life. From sand pit to surgeries, to sad mother, to a place where she could eat. And raise dogs. And dance in the sun, and watch a woman with red tinged and gold ringlet hair run away from her.
“Life’s a stone bitch,” she said. “Can’t decide if it’s coming or going.” She caught her breath, and loped back to shower and finish the business class segment. Spreadsheets were also a stone cold bitch, but it couldn’t be worse than army forms. Those, she’d hated.
Rhodes had Fire counting frontwards and backwards in both Norse and Latin, while working the stick dance with her. Chance had Aldrnari do the hand-to-hand fighting dance, and had the fire-haired woman teach her Norse fighting and curse words. Fire laughed as Aldrnari fell, then came up snarling when they switched to the sword dance. Chance learned some entirely new swear words with that one. Rhodes loved a good fight, so Chance and Rhodes switched places, then Fire switched to the sword dance.
The girls had the women drink water and rest a bit while they fought each other with the sticks, then they set Fire and Aldrnari against each other, critiquing them both. Fire learned to curse in Old Norse, and they were both grass-stained, sandy, bruised, and bloody after their encounter.
They drank, and laughed. “I’ve been afraid I’ll break you,” said Aldrnari. “Fire, you’re all bones and sinew.”
Fire nodded. “I bruise too easily. I know I’m treating my body like I hate it with this food-tastes-like-ashes thing. I’ve gotta get the fuck over it.”
“It’s psychological,” said Rhodes.
“No fucking kidding,” said Chance. Chance picked up the sticks and Rhodes the wooden swords, and they headed back to the house, arguing all the way.
“It is,” said Fire. “Psychological, and therefore something I should be able to overcome.”
“Look at those little demons,” said Aldrnari. “Fighting all the time, competing with one another.”
“I see,” said Fire.
“Focus,” said Aldrnari. “Find your focus. Be there, in that moment. After a while, being in the present moment helps you… unplug from the past. Right now, you’re plugged in, and it’s stealing your energy, your focus, your very life.”
“It is,” said Fire.
“Unplug,” said Aldrnari, miming reaching behind Fire and pulling a cord that retraced back into Fire. “Let the cord come back in, and plug the cord into something you love.”
“I thought doing the Harleys would be work, a living. Now, I find it’s kind of like surgery. Digging into a body, cutting away the bad parts, grafting on new, stronger, better parts. Making it run a thousand times better than before, then sending that beautiful wild woman off with someone to live a beautiful wild life.”
“That’s beautiful,” said Aldrnari. “Teach me.”
“What? Aren’t you a guitarist? What if that ruins your be
autiful hands?”
Aldrnari held up a hand with the knuckles split open. “You mean like this?” She grinned. “I can play buck naked in a sandstorm while being attacked by killer pygmy Valkyries.”
Fire doubled over laughing. “A hell of a visual. And, we have just the killer pygmy Valkyries to help.”
Aldrnari stood, and helped Fire stand. “That damn phone of yours is going to go off in a minute, so we’d better shower. I’ve got a gig in three hours at Dirty Rock, and you’ve got a bike to build, and I want to help you build it.” She started walking, and Fire stepped in beside her. “And I’m fucking hungry.”
“Come to think of it,” said Fire. “So am I.”
After their shower, they ate BLTs and veggie chips, and Fire ate all of her portion. When she would stop chewing, Aldrnari would just say, “Present moment,” and Fire would refocus. Aldrnari learned the parts of a Harley, and was relegated to watching Bonnie and Tori’s videos and polishing chrome as Fire did the last steps of getting a bike ready.
The owner, a tall woman dressed in a vented leather jacket, black jeans, and riding boots, got out of her Uber like she owned the planet. She stepped forward, helmet in hand, and let the wind blow back her ink-black hair. She walked around the bike, an off-road Harley in black and chrome, as if she were stalking it. Finally, she pulled back her hair, put on her helmet, and sat on it. She started it with a throaty roar. Then, she nodded once at Fire, and then she was gone.
“Wow,” said Aldrnari.
“Never gets old,” said Fire. “It’s why I do what I do.”
“I get that now,” said Aldrnari.
“Watch me unbox, and go play,” said Fire. “I’ve got a custom instead of a teardown.”
“Good,” said Aldrnari.
The women got the engine up on the horse, and Fire laid the rest of the bike out, from headlight to exhaust. She put the gas tank and fenders that needed painting aside, and smiled as Aldrnari went up to play. She burst into laughter when Aldrnari sang “Dream On.” The women climbed back down, and the bandmates went to their own house for a light dinner before the show.