Floored

by Paton, Ainslie

  She backed up against the bed and sat as Stud and the woman came into the room like an invading force from an outer war zone where Fetch’s next tour of duty was about to start.

  Stud turned to her and thrust his hand out like a thrown punch. She stood and took it, looking right in his tight, dark eyes. “Michael Studdley. I’m your contact while your boy has to work.” She nodded. Stud was probably in his mid-fifties, lean and hard bodied. “I want to have a chat to you about Justin Cumberland when we get this op under control, okay.”

  That ‘okay’ was only in the sentence to make her think he hadn’t issued an instruction. Now she hated Stud too. Another man who’d tell her what to do and get all pissed off when she didn’t comply. She couldn’t afford to get Stud offside. She needed him to convince Sean to let her go.

  But she could hate the woman. She’d wrapped her arms around Sean and even though Caitlyn knew it was all acting, she wanted to scream at her to get her hands off him and make him wash where they’d been.

  Stud handed Sean a mobile phone. “We need to go.”

  “I’ll meet youse outside,” the woman said. She gave Sean’s arms a squeeze and left the room. Stud followed her. He said, “Five minutes, Fetch,” at the door and stepped out, leaving it open.

  What could they do with five minutes? Five minutes was less that it would take to tell him her sins. Less than it would take to put him at risk of losing his concentration. Lots less than she needed to suck up that last memory of him.

  She bit her bottom lip to get it working. “Be careful.”

  He took two steps towards her and grabbed her chin in his hands. “Be where I can find you.”

  Her lungs stopped working. He knew, he knew, he knew. He always knew. He hauled her against him, tucking her into his body like he wanted to attach her permanently.

  One minute she was enveloped in the leather and cedar scent of him; the next she was sitting on the bed and there were a half a dozen people in the room.

  Two men she’d not seen before carried the woman in. She was moaning, dishevelled, clutching her arm to her body. Stud was talking to her. “Tracy, Tracy, we’ve got you. Talk to me.”

  Sean was saying. “What happened?”

  Caitlyn shifted so they could lay the woman on the bed.

  “Fucking P-plater in the driveway backed into her,” said Stud.

  “It’s a broken collarbone,” said one of the other men. “We need to get her to hospital.”

  “No, no. It’s not broken. I’ll be all right.” Tracy was white with shock, her real speaking voice shook with pain.

  “Tracy, look at me,” said Stud. “It’s over.”

  “But…” Her frantic eyes switched from Stud to Sean.

  Sean answered. “I’ll go in alone.”

  Stud was thumbing his phone. “No, we’ll get someone.”

  “There’s no time, Stud.”

  “Fuck, there’s no time. If you’d have obeyed orders and stayed with the op this wouldn’t have happened. Everyone else out,” he barked.

  Now there were only the four of them. Outside the window Caitlyn could hear the other two men; they were calling an ambulance and dealing with the P-plater, getting rid of the motel’s manager.

  Inside the room, Sean was facing off against Stud. “I’ll go in alone.

  From the bed Tracy said, “No, I’ll be okay. I just need a sling.”

  Stud silenced Tracy with a glance being knocked over by a car hadn’t been able to. He turned to Sean. “You can’t go in alone. Wacker expects to see Fetch’s woman.”

  Sean pointed to his watch. I can’t go in late either. He won’t wait. It’ll be fine.”

  “No.”

  “Stud, what other option do we have?”

  “We can set a new meeting.”

  “What excuse do we give for that?

  “How about the truth?” said Tracy.

  Both men grunted their dislike at that. There was a strained silence and Caitlyn knew it was going to be the last moment of calm she’d experience for a while. This was how she’d win Stud over.

  “I’ll do it.”

  35: Recognition

  “No fucking way! There is no fucking way she’s going in with me.”

  All Sean saw in Cait’s eyes was grim determination as she stood with Stud. And what was this? They were sudden allies against him. How the fuck did that happen? She’d disliked Stud on sight and now she was siding with him.

  “She’s a civilian. I’m not taking her in with me.”

  “Wacker only needs to see Fetch has a woman. We change the plan. We keep her out of range. They don’t speak. He only has to see she exists.”

  “That won’t work. He won’t accept that. He’ll want to eyeball her up close. He’ll fucking want to feel her up.”

  Stud stabbed a finger at him. “You make it work. I just eyeballed her and she didn’t flinch.”

  “I can do this.”

  Cait’s voice was strong and clear but she had no idea what she was saying. He pushed Stud aside and took her arms, held them too tight, shook her. Wanting to frighten her so she knew this was over with. “No. You can’t do this. You won’t do this.”

  Her chin shot up and she wrenched away. Fuck. Tactical error. He’d made the decision for her. But this was his business, his expertise. “No, Cait. It’s too dangerous. Wacker is a lunatic. Tracy is trained for this. You’ll be a liability.”

  “If she stays with the bike. If she looks the part. It can work, Sean.”

  “We’re not doing it. I’m going in alone.”

  Stud dismissed him with a sneer and turned to Cait. “Do you understand what you’ve volunteered for? Wacker is a hardened criminal with the morals of a shark, the cunning of a rat and the bite of a snake.”

  He looked for her eyes, but she’d turned them to Stud. “No, Cait.”

  “I understand. I’m familiar with the species.”

  She spoke as though this idea of going undercover was perfectly in line with her expectations for the evening. Like it was pizza and a movie. There was no way he was letting this happen. He watched something pass between the Cait and Stud; a measuring, an assessment and it felt bad. Heavy like the blackest, hail-filled thundercloud was targeting him for a personal storm.

  “No. Cait.” If he left now, got on the bike, the team would have to follow him. That would resolve this. He went for the door. Heard Tracy say, “Take my shirt,” and Stud’s hand came down on his shoulder.

  “We do this my way, Sean. She goes in with you. You keep her apart. We set up a perimeter around her to keep her safe. A dog walker, a fucking birdwatcher, whatever we need. She’s exposed for fifteen; maybe thirty minutes, and you’re back in and we finish this.”

  “I can’t do it. I won’t be able to keep it together if she’s there.”

  “You should’ve thought of that before you came back here. Before you put her in danger the first time.”

  Stud was slamming the authority hammer like the superior officer he was, and grinding the guilt line like a habit-wearing Mother Superior. He needed to back off or nothing would happen tonight except thinking about how to explain this fuck up to the higher ups in the morning.

  He got in Stud’s face. “This is not procedure.”

  Stud shaped up, more mongrel than mother. “When was procedure something you gave two shits about?”

  “When it threatens someone I love.”

  “She’s threatened already, mate. How do we know you weren’t tailed? The minute Wacker knew you were in town he’d have had eyes looking for you and your big shiny bike.”

  This was more guilt, more doubt being poured on. If he’d been tailed this whole thing was over and they could look forward to a fire fight in the car park that’d make the accident Tracy suffered look like a knock on the funny bone. And he hadn’t bloody well been tailed. While he and Stud were going toe to toe he was aware of Tracy and Cait moving around the room.

  “You know this has to happen, Sean.”
/>   He kept his voice low and steady, though his brain was screaming. “I know you think it will.”

  “I’m ready.”

  Stud turned and blocked his view of Cait, but his gut tightened at the sight of Tracy with a t-shirt he’d left over a chair held in front of her otherwise naked torso with her one good arm. He stepped around Stud and his whole body clenched. Cait wore Tracy’s knee high boots over her own fitted black running skins and Tracy’s white shirt, one undone button short of her waist. No bra and her hair was loose and curling around her face. She was painting her lips a bright red, half a wary eye on him in the mirror. She was utterly transformed. She looked more rock chick than biker in her improvised outfit, didn’t matter, there was absolutely no frigging chance she was leaving this room looking that way.

  “That works,” said Stud and he followed it up with, “Tracy, sit down before you fall down,” while multitasking with a body block that stopped him getting to Cait’s side.

  If it came to an official report, Sean would call what he did next a shove. Make it sound like how he dealt with Stud was no worse than what happened everyday to people boarding a late-running, crowded train during peak hour at Town Hall station.

  Stud would call it assault.

  It would’ve been a more serious scuffle if Cait hadn’t put herself too close to them, close enough to be hit with a flying elbow or a charging shoulder.

  “Isn’t there a deadline we have to meet?”

  Her tone, her presence, stopped them and they both backed off. Stud with a hand to his jaw, already reddening.

  “I’m ready. But I’m scared.”

  “That’s the appropriate response, love. You don’t make eye contact with anyone, other than Fetch. If anything happens you look for me. I’ll be somewhere you can see me.”

  “This is not happening.” All he had to do was get Cait to back off. She’d do it for him if he could manipulate her into thinking it was her idea.

  “Sean, how many times has that guy beaten you till you couldn’t piss standing up? I’m not giving Stephen Wackenheim one more reason to be suspicious about you. This whole thing is a giant risk, but we can manage it. I will put myself and the lives of the team outside in between Cait and any danger. But you need to make this happen.”

  Cait hadn’t needed to hear that. He reached for her, but she stepped back.

  “I want to do this. I understand the risks. I want to help.”

  “Your woman has more guts than you, slugger.”

  He focused in on Cait. Nothing Stud could do short of knocking him out was going to distract him now. “You’re not helping, Caity. I won’t be able to think straight.”

  She came to him, both her hands to his chest, under his vest, cool against his skin. She was completely steady, only the creases at the edge of her eyes gave away her tension. “Fetch was always twitchy. You protected me once. You can do it again now.”

  “This is not the same as what happened in Sydney. Let this go. It’s a bad idea. Let it go for me.”

  She shook her head. “I get to make this call myself. I understand what I’m doing.”

  “You don’t. You think this is a game.” He wanted to shake her hard to make her give this up. “You’re putting us both in danger.” He was running out of options and out of time. The door opened, the ambulance was here. “I’m asking you not to do this.”

  She put her hand to his face as though that softness would make up for the disaster about to unfold. “I’m making my own decision.”

  He set her back from him. She’d left him no alternative. “I’m telling you no.”

  Her mouth flat-lined, her eyes narrowed. Frustration and anger warred in her face, and he knew he’d lost this round with those four words more than with any other tactic he’d tried.

  Stud was all over the moment. “Sean, the only way this is not happening is for you to hand in your badge right now.”

  He was all over Stud. Nose to nose, chest bumping his chest. “You watch her like she’s your own wife. Anything goes wrong and she gets hurt I will come for you so hard Mrs Stud’ll have to identify you from your dental records.”

  “I hear you. Now stand down.”

  He backed off. He felt cornered and surprised his feet were still on the carpet. He was so tense he might’ve been levitating. A paramedic entered the room and went to Tracy. Outside a car roared to life.

  Cait tucked herself under his arm and he hugged her close. “Ever been on the back of a bike?” He watched her face. She thought about lying, then shook her head. This got better and better. “Stick to me like skin. You hang onto my back and you don’t make a move I don’t make. When we get there you stay with the bike. Anything bad happens you go with him.” He looked to Stud, briefly wondered how much he’d put the other man offside. He took a deep breath and tried to steady himself. He had the twenty minute ride across town and into Bold Park to settle back into Fetch’s skin.

  Cait’s eyes popped when she saw the bike. “That’s what you came off when you hurt your knee? It’s no wonder you limped.”

  He pulled her into his body. “I don’t fucking like this.” She threw her arms around his neck and he kissed her hard, like he’d kissed Tracy back when she was Trinity, and her body jerked in his arms. Now she belonged to Fetch too. “I’m going to do that to you when they’re watching. You need to play rough with me, baby. Can you do that?”

  She was breathless. She nodded. He sighed and turned to mount the bike and hold it steady for her to climb on and she slapped him hard across his butt. He heard Stud laugh in the earpiece he wore and he swung his head back to look at her. Up went her chin and she smiled like she had no idea she was about to ride into a battle with a soldier who had the shakes.

  She hugged so close, on an ordinary night he might’ve forgotten she was there. But this was no ordinary, this was a freak show. He could hear Stud in the follow car, co-ordinating their surveillance. In the daytime the park would’ve been an ideal place to contain, at night it was fraught. Any car would be heard. Any jogger at midnight suspiciously out of place.

  Approaching the park he knew there’d be a least three bikes and two cars in the lot. One was surveillance. Supposedly broken down. Two undercover officers would be tinkering under the hood. The other car was being traced. People used this part of the park at night to go bat watching. The intelligence sounding in Sean’s ear told him Wacker had arrived and stood with four other men about twenty metres from the lot. Twenty metres would give Cait good cover in the amber-coloured safety lighting of the car park. That was a break. He’d pull up as close to the surveillance car as possible without crowding them. But four men and only three bikes. Was someone riding pillion? Neither Toddy, Johno or Grumble were the type. Maybe good old Fetch’s replacement was along for the party and without his own wheels, or someone came in the car. Stud ran the plate, it was a hire car. He’d have to get someone out of bed before they knew who it was hired to.

  He slowed at the turn and cruised into the car park, pretending they weren’t the centre of attention, every attraction under the big top all rolled into one. He could see Wacker, Johno and Grumble, the fourth man was hidden from view.

  He parked four spaces over from the surveillance car and helped Cait with the helmet he’d insisted she wear. She shook out her hair. He opened the pannier on the back of the bike, fished his earpiece out and dumped it inside. He took the cake tin out and put it down on the tarmac, carelessly, as though he didn’t know it held eighty thousand dollars. Then he went to Cait took a handful of her hair and pulled her head around to kiss her. Back in the room he’d sensed her reaction when he’d told Stud he loved her. He wanted to tell her properly, privately, in his last pure moments as Sean.

  “Cait…” She didn’t let him finish, both hands going to his skull, her tongue in his mouth. She knew. He hauled her off the bike and backed her into the pole of a No Standing sign. The hooting and whistling should have been his signal to stop, but fuck, the risk, the woman, the ad
renaline. He dragged her leg to his hip and ground into her pubic bone, all the while devouring her as she did him. Wacker’s hollered obscenities brought him back. He pulled away, panting heavily. Distraction achieved in more ways than one. Her hands were in his back pockets. Her head kicked back as she braced against him. He licked a line up her breastbone and neck to her ear. “Thank you.” He couldn’t risk more words. She shuddered and he stepped away. This was it. Showtime.

  When he swooped down to pick up the cake tin he got his first clear look at the fourth man. Not a Black Pariah member. Not wearing colours. Not one of them. The car driver. He fixed a foolish grin on his face and a swagger in his step as he approached the men.

  Before he got level, Wacker shouted, “Rumour has it you’re a cop, Fetch.”

  He faltered, watched Wacker carefully. It was easy to telegraph insecurity because it was real, but the belly-busting laughter that came out of Johno and Grumble gave him back his bluster.

  “Nah, Wack.”

  “You’re too stupid to be a spy, Fetch. But apparently not too stupid to steal my money and follow me to Perth. Is it all there?”

  “Yeah, Wack. It’s all there. I never touched it.” Strictly speaking someone in Stud’s team had done the touching. He let his eyes flit from Wacker to Johno and Grumble. He got a grunt from Johno and a backslap that made him take a step forward from Grumble. He used that to position himself so he could see Cait. She was back on the bike, her head down, eyes hidden. Good girl. He moved his eyes to the fourth man. He wasn’t going to get an introduction, so they have to ID him from photo surveillance.

  Wacker took the tin from his hand. “You better not be lying to me.”

  “No Wack. I ain’t.”

  “Then what’ve you been living on? Maisey’s little slut cos took your moolah.”