Stormy's Thunder: Satan's Devils MC Utah

by Manda Mellett

  Gingerly I reach out a shaking hand to help him up, but he does it himself, pushing his weight against his one working hand until he’s sitting up. “He’s dead, Cat. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

  “But Gun can,” I admit. “What if Gun finds out where I am?”

  He stares at me. “I suppose I shouldn’t be telling you this, but all the brothers have gone. They’ve got Gun’s location. Within hours, Cat, Gun will be dead or captured, and you won’t have to worry anymore.”

  My voice drops to a whisper. “Are you sure?”

  “I trust them, Cat. They’re the best.”

  I know him too well. “Why didn’t you go with them?” Even hurt as he is, I know he’d have wanted to be there.

  “Because I’m just a prospect, Cat.” He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a patch, showing it to me. “I’ll be honest, at first the thought of staying behind was almost more than I could take. But I saw you having that nightmare and knew you were more important to me. This is my place. You’re more important to me than revenge.”

  “I want him dead,” I tell him seriously. “He let me believe you had died. That hurt me so fucking much.”

  “I want him taken alive,” Finn replies, quickly adding his reasoning. “The crimes against us are the tip of the iceberg. I want to know what more he’s got to hide. I’m not arrogant enough to think it all comes back to me, or is about something that happened years ago.”

  She thinks on that for a moment. “When will we know if they’ve caught him?”

  “They’ll be boarding the plane now and should be landing in San Diego in a couple of hours. I don’t know how long it will take to get where he’s holed up. But hopefully, by morning we’ll know whether they’ve been successful or not.”

  I sigh. “It’s going to be a long night just waiting.” I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to sleep.

  Finn’s brow creases. “Mystic will stay at the airfield waiting for the plane to come back. Apart from Grinch, Goofy and the prospects, we’ve got the place to ourselves. Why don’t I show you around? You still haven’t seen the clubroom yet.”

  It’s better than staying here in this room. Time is going to hang heavy on our hands. Could it really be that by dawn I’ll no longer have a threat hanging over my head? It won’t wipe out the recent past, but it may help me to move on. If I still want to, there’d be nothing stopping me going home.

  For an answer I collect his crutches from where they’ve fallen and pass them to him, then stand back and let him get himself sorted. Wondering what I’m heading into, I follow him out.

  The clubroom is situated on the floor beneath where the accommodation is housed. It’s a big space, a bar down one side, a pool table, games machines, and a dartboard. There are sofas, tables and chairs. Like the cafeteria downstairs it’s spotless. When I comment on its cleanliness, Finn grimaces, and reminds me, keeping it so will fall to him now.

  “Want a drink?”

  I shake my head, no. I want to keep a clear head. I’ve had enough of being sedated and drugged.

  “You play pool?”

  I did, when I was a trainee nurse. My first inclination is to refuse to play, but what can I do instead except brood? “A bit.” I doubt if I’m in his league.

  I’m right. Three games later I’m losing to a man balancing on one leg and playing with not even his dominant hand, needing to use his cast to steady the cue stick. Finn tries to help me line up shots, but as he abstains from physically touching me, I find his instructions hard to follow. I can’t keep my eyes from watching the clock, but the minutes seem to tick by so slow.

  Finn’s phone buzzes in his pocket. Taking it out, he rolls his eyes. He taps something back. And gets a reply.

  “Brute needs me in reception.” He’s frowning.

  “What for?”

  “Probably wants me to take over from him and man the front desk. I’m one of the prospects now, guess he’s going to play on it.”

  “Prospect duty?”

  Finn shrugs. “I knew this was coming.”

  “Can he order you around? He’s a prospect himself, isn’t he?”

  “He can’t. But all prospects help each other out. Maybe he just needs a piss. Whatever, I’ve got to go down. Do you want to—”

  “I’ll come.” I don’t want to stay here by myself. A prospect’s manning the bar, but I don’t know him. Even if I did, I doubt right now I could trust anyone.

  In no hurry, Finn gets his crutches under him again and does that swing hop thing over to the elevator.

  “I wish I could turn back time.” I muse aloud. “I wish we could start over, Finn. But once Gun’s not a threat, I am going home. Alone.”

  “Cat…”

  “I don’t belong in your world.”

  “You want me to leave the club?” He moves so he can face me. “If that’s what you want, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything for you.”

  The elevator, which seems slow, at last arrives, and the doors slide open. He gestures for me to enter first.

  As he presses the button to take us down, I know I can’t give him false hope. “I need to find myself again, Finn. I’m sorry, but as soon as I can, I’m going to go.”

  “You’re being hasty,” he tells me, as the doors meet once again. “You need time. I’ll give you some space, Cat, but I’m never going to give up.”

  The downward journey ends. Stepping out of the elevator, I round on him. “I need control,” I wail. “I need to take back my life. I need to do this on my own and on my terms. I want to go home. Alone.”

  Pain fills his eyes, but this isn’t about him now. It’s about me, and what I want. He starts to move toward the front of the building, and I follow. He stops so fast, I crash into his back.

  “What the fuck?” he exclaims.

  Peering around him I can see why he’s stopped. Brute’s on his feet, a gun pointed toward one of the older bikers, one of those Finn was sitting with during our meal. He looks rough around the edges and more like you’d expect as a member of a motorcycle club. But, over his cut he’s wearing some kind of device covered in wires. Even a civilian like me can guess what it is.

  “Goofy?” Finn asks, and rather than moving back, steps closer at the same time pushing me behind him. “Brute! Put the fuckin’ gun down.”

  “They’ve got the place surrounded,” Goofy replies, his voice sounding pissed rather than scared as he glances disdainfully down at the bomb strapped to his chest. “They’ve got Grinch and Gears. Fuckin’ jumped us where we went out for a smoke.”

  Finn waves toward the device and says very calmly. “What are they waiting for?”

  “For Pip to give himself up. They said, if he does, they’ll let the rest of us go.”

  Finn hops back, motioning Goofy to step forward. I realise he’s moving him out of sight of the front window. He turns to Brute. “Get me the toolkit from under the desk, then go warn Pip. But tell him to stay put.” He starts talking again, this time it seems like it’s to himself. “It’s Gun, isn’t it? He wants Pip alive. Which means we’ve got time before this blows. Else he risks him going up with everyone else.”

  Brute snaps to obey Finn while I wonder at the dynamic. He doesn’t object being given an instruction from another prospect, but there’s something about Finn’s voice, a new confidence. He sounds like a man completely in control. Me? I’m terrified. I haven’t come through what I have only to die now. As Brute gets the toolkit I notice looped around his wrist is a lead, and connected to that, a handsome black spaniel. My eyes widen, then shutter. Don’t let his dog die.

  “I’m sorry,” Goofy says. “We didn’t have a fuckin’ chance. It was Gun, I recognised him from the photos. Honor was showing around. Before we knew they were there, they surrounded us.” He sounds so calm, standing stock still while I’m shaking.

  “SEALs have a habit of doing that,” Finn observes calmly, walking around Goofy now, his eyes moving, missing nothing. “I thought San Diego might be a trap, though I
didn’t expect it to be a decoy. Nothing you could have done, Brother. Don’t blame yourself.”

  “Is that a bomb?” I ask, shakily, while knowing it can’t be anything else.

  “Yeah,” Finn says, distracted by his inspection. “Booby trapped, I expect.”

  “He told me I couldn’t take it off.”

  “I’ll just have to disarm it.” Finn states, confidently, moving to the toolkit which Brute had placed close.

  “He said no one could. Any tampering and it will blow.” Now I notice a slight tremor in Goofy’s voice, he’s clearly trying to keep a brave face. “You should go, Stormy. Get the girl out of here and the others.”

  “Nowhere we can go if he’s got the place surrounded, Goof. You know that. And Pip’s not giving himself up. The saferoom won’t hold everyone.”

  Will it hurt, I wonder? Will I feel my body blown into smithereens, or will there be no warning just darkness? A welcome relief from the nightmare in my head, or a missed chance at a new life?

  Suddenly I know, I want to live, I don’t want to give up.

  “Stormy?” A stunned sounding voice asks.

  “Get back into your office, Pip. Take Cat. Both of you will be safe in the saferoom. Take App with you.”

  App? Who the hell’s App?

  “Fuck that. If there’s a chance I’m going to take it. Grinch is out there.” Pip stands his ground. “I’ll give myself up.”

  Finn rounds on him, no, that’s wrong. This isn’t my gentle Finn, this is Stormy. More used to barking orders than taking them. “Gun’s not going to leave any of us alive, Pip. But he doesn’t want you dead. We’ve got time as long as you keep your fuckin’ head down. Brute? Make sure Pip stays and keep him safe.”

  “I’ll get him into the saferoom.” Brute agrees. “Come on, Pip. Stormy’s right. You’re more useful to everyone inside and alive. And someone’s got to look after Cat and the dog. Swift would have my balls if anything happens to him.”

  “No.”

  “Fuckin’ go, Pip. You too, Cat,”

  “I’m staying,” I tell Finn stubbornly. “You said we’d should stay together. Well, I’m not leaving you now.”

  Finn’s growl makes me jump, and Pip glares. “Get him out of here, Brute. Igor?” He motions to the other prospect who must have realised something’s wrong. “You fuckin’ help him.” Pip tries to stare Finn down, but apparently his prosthetics make him no match for the two burly prospects who take him by the arms and none too gently leads him away, one still holding the lead of the dog who’s tail is wagging like it’s some kind of adventure.

  Finn’s eyes meet mine. “You will be joining him, Cat. I won’t be able to do anything without knowing you’re safe. But for now, I need your help. I can’t do this one-handed.”

  Me help? I squeak, swallow, then notice Goofy’s eyes on me.

  “He’s got this,” Goofy says, his husky tone belying his confidence. “If anyone can disarm this, Stormy can.”

  Finn isn’t going to give me a choice. “Cat, come around here. See these wires? Very, very gently, slip your hand under them.” When I do, he gives praise. “Good girl. You’ve got small hands which will help. Try to keep them steady.”

  I notice he’s got some wire cutters in his hand. “Do you know which to cut?” I’m praying he says yes, a snip and the danger will be over.

  “I wish it was that easy. First, I’ve got to try to trace them.”

  I swallow. Hard. “Couldn’t he detonate it any moment? Will he suspect what you’re doing?”

  He’s staring at something intently and moving to the left slowly. “Gun doesn’t know I’m part of the Satan’s Devils, he won’t expect me to be here. I was in the hospital under a fake identity.”

  “He knows all the tech experts of the club are on their way to California,” Goofy reinforces what Finn’s saying. “Motherfucker was talking when he was trussing me like a fuckin’ Thanksgiving turkey. I doubt he thinks one of the prospects is a bomb disposal expert.”

  “You’re right, this is booby trapped, in a number of ways,” Finn states, almost in admiration. “Wires leading nowhere, the colours misleading. Anyone who didn’t know exactly what they were doing would have a problem with it.”

  “And you do?” I bite my lip as I ask, willing my hand to be steady. It’s the only part of me not shaking.

  “Ease your hand down, Cat. No sudden movements. There’ll be pressure senses.”

  So much could go wrong. It puts my ordeal over the last three weeks into perspective. If this is my last few minutes on earth, I don’t want to leave without telling Finn the truth.

  It’s probably not the best time to tell a man how you feel for him when he’s in the middle of disarming a bomb. “I love you, Finn. I never stopped.”

  He doesn’t even look at me, but his lips curve slightly. “Babe, I love you too. We’re going to move past everything, okay? Now, give me a second….” He lifts a wire. “Hold this, will you?”

  I watch him close his eyes briefly, his lips move as he closes the blades of the cutter together around the wire that’s draped over my finger, in the deadly silence the snick of them meeting is deafening.

  But no explosion.

  “Stay still,” he warns Goofy. “That’s one, but knowing Gun, he’ll have a failsafe.”

  Goofy doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak. If he wasn’t still standing I’d wonder whether he’d stopped breathing. “Cat, put your hand here. I need you to pull on this wire.”

  I do so, gingerly.

  “Harder.”

  Holding my breath, I tug it, it comes loose, and Finn fast has his hand on a switch underneath and is pushing on it.

  “You see the yellow and green wire? Take the cutters and cut through it.”

  “Me?” My voice has gone up an octave.

  “Yeah, I can’t let this go, and I can’t use my right hand.”

  I gulp, swallow, and stare into steady eyes that gaze back into mine. His are full of emotion, leaving me in no doubt he’d not just parroted my words. He really loves me. How did I ever think I could live without him?

  Taking the cutters from his pocket, I concentrate, and do what he’s asked me.

  Nothing. No explosion. Suddenly there’s a knife in Finn’s hand and he’s slicing through the straps that bind the explosives to Goofy’s chest.

  As Goofy struggles out, getting the device off himself, he turns to Finn and hugs him warmly. “What do we do now?”

  “Now we get Grinch and Gears,” Finn says seriously. “How many outside, Brother?”

  “Ten that I saw.”

  “Gun will be getting impatient. He’ll make a move soon if he wants Pip alive, maybe kill one of ours. We’ve no time to waste, let’s get tooled up.”

  Goofy doesn’t have to be told twice, he heads down the corridor with Finn on crutches after him. When they come to a cupboard Finn enters a key code and it opens to reveal an armoury. The two men take out a variety of weapons, and a pile of Kevlar vests, one of which Finn passes to me.

  I slide into the awkward garment, take the gun Finn hands to me, but without a clue how to use it.

  He notices my unease. “Just point and pull the trigger.”

  36

  Stormy…

  I run through what I know of the men at my disposal. Yeah, I’ve put myself in charge. Pip’s an intelligence man, not military, though he’ll be able to use a handgun. Igor is ex-Army, Brute a former Marine. Goofy’s been brought up in the school of hard knocks, and Cat might be new to this, but as long as she doesn’t aim at our team, the spray of bullets from the semi I’ve handed her could come in useful. We might be outnumbered, but I’m confident in my small army. I have to be.

  We convene in Pip’s office. Despite my instruction, he hasn’t gone into the safe room. When we appear, Brute passes App into Cat’s surprised safekeeping, with the explanation he’s Swift’s hearing dog and that he wouldn’t like to be her if she doesn’t keep App safe. I’m grateful she’s got something els
e to focus on, maybe I can use her love of animals to protect him, if not herself.

  “We’ve got the element of surprise,” I tell them. “But only if we move fast. I’d like to take Gun alive. Which means taking the other men out.”

  “If all fails, put a bullet in his head.” Pip catches my eye and tilts his head toward Cat. Yeah, I know what I’m protecting.

  My modus operandi, up to now, is what’s got me into trouble. “Last resort,” I tell Pip. We want answers.

  Quickly I sketch a drawing, pointing to the parts of the building where each of us should go. Heads bowed around me, everyone stares and listens. No one interrupts, they just nod.

  “You going to be able to aim, Brother?” Goofy asks once I’ve explained my hastily thought up plan.

  “Yeah, Goof.” As long as I can steady my rifle, my left hand can pull the trigger.

  I point to the rough sketch again. “I’ll be up on the roof and take who’s holding Grinch first. Igor, when it’s time, you kill the outside lights, Brute, you get out the back, they’ll be surrounding us. Shoot first, ask questions after.” The prospect, I’m pleased to notice, has equipped himself with three guns fitted with silencers.

  Cat’s green eyes flare, then fill with worry, but she stays silent. I’m guilty that as is usual for a sniper I’ll be in a position of relative safety, except… But what can I do? I’m handicapped with an arm and a leg out of use. I can’t creep up on anyone unawares, not balanced on crutches. The best I can contribute is keeping my head down and picking them off. At least this building is sturdy, or so I hope. I’ve got the easy job.

  “You got this Pip?”

  “I got this.” He tells me with a sharp nod. “I know what to do.”

  “Cat, you’ll be okay in the safe room, it’s built like a fuckin’ tank. As soon as Pip’s back with you, the door will be closed.”

  “I want to be with you.” Her voice trembles.

  “No fuckin’ way.” I take the chance of curling my hand around the back of her neck, pulling her forehead into mine. “I can’t be distracted, Cat. I need to know you’re safe and not be worrying about you. If someone gets the door open, you’ve got the gun. It’s set to automatic fire. You just put your finger on the trigger and hold it there. And take care of App. He’ll be frightened, okay?”