“Why would a deer cause them to go on alert?”
“It wouldn’t, unless…”
“Yeah?”
“They must have some sort of perimeter alarms set up, maybe motion sensors.”
“That makes sense, but what if it had been the cops instead of a deer?”
“Then those men with the rifles would have taken them back into that house. They must keep the weapons stored there. By staying to the shadows, they might have remained unseen if a raid occurred.”
“It must be one hell of a hiding place if the cops couldn’t find it.”
“We need to come up with a new plan. Even being careful, there’s no guarantee that we won’t set off one of their motion detectors. Given the odds against us, we’ll need the element of surprise.”
Romeo nodded, then yawned.
“Get some sleep,” Cody said. “I feel rested enough.”
“All right, dude, but I want to go in there tomorrow. The longer this takes, the more dangerous things will get for Emma.”
“We’ll get her back, Romeo. That’s our top priority now.”
“I still love her, Cody.”
“I know, and since May Ling entered my life, I understand what that feels like.”
* * *
By noon, they still hadn’t come up with a new plan, but they did have a rough estimate of the number of men they would be facing. They had given each man they saw a nickname to distinguish him from the others. Cody gave some of them light-hearted tags such as pigeon-toed, slouchy, or hang-dog. He had been attempting to lessen the feeling of dread and impending doom in the air.
Romeo smiled once, but there was no making him forget that the woman he loved was locked up somewhere at the mercy of others. It was also possible that she was dying of thirst or being raped and tortured. Whenever Cody imagined May Ling in Emma’s place, a cold rage erupted in him. He would do whatever it took to help Romeo find and free Emma.
“Twenty-six men, including Ray Canterbury,” Cody said. “I’m beginning to think we’ll just have to take our chances and hope we don’t set off any early-warning systems.”
“Yeah, but if they come across us and see the guns, they’ll try to kill us and ask questions later.”
“It’s risky, but like you said, Emma is running out of time. Canterbury might be able to help us find her.”
They had spotted Canterbury twice. The man was in his forties, had a thin build, and was average height, with a bald head and blue eyes.
Romeo took out his gun along with the spare magazines he carried. After laying them on the ground, he began going through his backpack.
“What are you doing?” Cody asked.
“I’m going down to that camp and act like I’m a lost hiker.”
“You mean just walk in there, unarmed?”
“I’m thinking they won’t shoot me once they see I don’t have a weapon.”
“Maybe, or maybe they’ll light you up the moment they spot you.”
“Do you have a better plan?”
“No, but Romeo, you’re taking a big risk.”
Romeo smiled. “Not with you as my partner. Once they grab me, you follow them back on foot. Even if you set off a perimeter alarm, they’ll just assume it’s their guys coming back. Afterward, I’ll get myself free. Then, we’ll grab Canterbury and get out of here.”
Cody thought over what Romeo was saying. The plan had merit, but it would only work if he weren’t shot on sight.
“Romeo, they might kill you.”
“I know, but I know something else. If I go down, you’ll still find Emma for me.”
Cody nodded. “I would. But I’m no fan of this idea.”
“I’m going down there no matter what, so let’s work out the details.”
They finessed the plan until they thought it had a better than even chance of working out well. Once Cody was inside the camp, he would surreptitiously kill as many of Canterbury’s people as he could, to increase their odds of success. Meanwhile, Romeo would get free and search for Canterbury.
Romeo would then abduct Canterbury and carry him back to their vehicle. After they were out of the area, they could interrogate him at their leisure. Moving away from the commune would set off whatever early-warning system they had, however, they would be on the alert for someone headed toward them, not someone moving away. If everything worked out, they would be out of the area before the survivors in the enclave knew what had happened.
“Remember, if either one of us gets a chance to grab Canterbury we take it and then meet up at the vehicle,” Romeo said.
“All right, but are you sure about this?”
“Yeah, Cody.”
The two friends were still for a moment before hugging and patting each other on the back. Afterward, they said goodbye.
“Stay alive, Romeo. I don’t want to have to tell Emma that you died trying to save her.”
Romeo released a moan. “I’m not sure that she’d even care.”
“She loved you, and probably still loves you. I just don’t think she understood what kind of a man you really are.”
Romeo gazed in the direction of Canterbury’s settlement. “I’m the type of man that will kill every last bastard that dared to harm her.”
“Damn right,” Cody said.
Romeo shrugged into his pack, adjusted the straps, and ambled off unarmed to wander into the enemy’s camp.
89
Backfire
NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA, JANUARY 2019
Flash attended the business dinner with his future father-in-law. He was bored by all the talk about zoning boards and city council members. He was also surprised when the meeting went on past midnight.
Flash knew that Grey wasn’t grooming him to be able to step into his shoes someday. However, as his future son-in-law, Grey did hope to instill enough knowledge in him so that he wouldn’t be clueless about the way things ran in local government and business.
Grey’s daughter, Letty, had no interest whatsoever in Grey’s construction empire and spent her days shopping or visiting her friends from college. The friends were just like her, spoiled rich kids who would never really grow up, nor need to.
As they rode away from the dinner in the rear of Grey’s limo, Randolph Grey asked Flash about the Boudreaux property. Grey was fifty-eight, had been married three times, and was the son of a doctor. His dark hair was turning white at the temples and he was tall but rangy.
“She’s got a guy out there helping her now, and the man is no joke.”
“One man? That shouldn’t be a problem for that gang of yours?”
“This man could be. He managed to kill a Mexican cartel leader inside his own home and he’s gone up against the Mafia and survived. This isn’t just any guy.”
“Still, if he were to go up against a motorcycle gang he would die. Have your people deal with him.”
“They’ll be doing that tonight, maybe even right now.”
“Good, then by tomorrow I should have that damn woman’s signature on a contract.”
“That’s the plan.”
“See that it happens, and remember, none of this can come back on me.”
“I know the score, Randolph.”
“What did you think of the mayor?”
“Not much, and he looks a lot shorter in person.”
“He’s up for reelection this year. I’ll be running against him.”
“I thought you two were friends?”
“It was his idea. He believes I’ll take votes away from a rival candidate. In a three-way race he’ll have an advantage over both of us.”
“Sneaky.”
“But I’m sneakier, and as his good friend I’m learning about all the dirt he’s doing.”
Flash laughed. “The mayor thinks you don’t care about winning, but you do.”
“Of course I care about winning. What else is there?”
“You have dirt on him?”
“Our married mayor is sleeping with a
woman younger than Letty.”
“People might not care.”
“I know that, but they will care that he was sleeping with an underage girl of fifteen.”
“The girl he’s doing is that young?”
“No, but I’ve arranged for him to meet such a girl soon. She’s a teen but looks twenty-two. As lecherous as the mayor is, he’ll take the bait. When election time rolls around, I’ll let the media know about the affair he had with a minor, complete with pictures. If I time it right, the Mayor will be disgraced.”
“You play hardball. I like that.”
“It’s just business and politics.”
“The girl you’re going to use. Where did you find her?”
“There’s a house of prostitution in Lafayette that specializes in young girls. Through an intermediary I’ve made a deal with the woman who runs the business.”
“And you can’t be tied to any of it?”
“That’s right. When the story breaks, the mayor will think it came from the other man in the race. When the public believes that he orchestrated the mayor’s affair with a child, he’ll be tainted as well. That will leave me looking like a saint in comparison.”
Flash raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think you qualify for sainthood.”
“True, but at the very least, I’ll come off as the lesser of three evils.”
“You’re a slick one, Randolph. I could have used you in the club.”
Grey smiled. “Had I ever joined a motorcycle club, I would have been its leader.”
Those words made Flash think of Gator, and he wondered how his friend was fairing against Tanner.
Tanner is just one guy. The Dixie Devils will put him in the ground.
* * *
Tanner managed to get in three hours of sleep after dinner and was ready to handle whatever the biker club tossed his way. He was certain that the plan he put in place would cull any hoard of bikers down to a manageable level.
Kendra surprised him by being proficient with a scoped rifle, but then she explained that she was a hunter. Jake was also an excellent shot. Despite that, he was too young to be in the line of fire and would be in a safe place whenever trouble came calling.
“Do you think they’ll come tonight?” Kendra asked, as she handed Tanner a cup of coffee. He was seated out on the home’s wide wraparound porch, and she had just walked out the screen door.
“There’s a good chance they will. I doubt patience is one of their virtues, if they have any virtues.”
“I don’t mind admitting that I’m scared, for myself and Jake. I’ll also feel horrible if anything happens to you. This isn’t really your fight.”
“It is my fight. You’re Benjamin Boudreaux’s granddaughter. A Tanner takes care of another Tanner’s family.”
“Even though you never knew him?”
“In a way, I feel as if I do know him, through the words he left behind in his journal. I’ve always tried to be like him, and I’ve used his knowledge to save myself a few times. Kendra, your grandfather was a remarkable man.”
“And so are you, or you wouldn’t be here helping.” Kendra leaned over and kissed Tanner on the cheek. “Thanks, cousin.”
“You’re welcome,” Tanner said.
Kendra stared toward the barn. “If your plan works, there are going to be a lot of dead bodies out here soon.”
“Does that bother you?”
“If it did, I wouldn’t have agreed to the plan. No, if those bikers come here to hurt us, then they’ve only themselves to blame for what happens to them.”
“They’ll come. It’s just a matter of when.”
* * *
Gator returned to the farm at 12:47 a.m.; he was not alone. There were twenty Dixie Devils with him.
Thanks to the motion detectors and cameras, Tanner and Kendra had ample warning and were ready for them. Not that they could miss the sound of the motorcycles cutting through the quiet of a winter night.
Jake had been placed in the barn where he was asleep on a cot. Tanner thought that he’d be safer in there than inside the house, since the bikers would think to look in the home first. That didn’t mean that Jake would be unprotected. Tanner and Kendra planned to make their stand at the barn.
Gator came in at the front of the pack with a sawed-off shotgun in his right hand. The exterior lights on the property were in full blaze, granting a view of the two figures running toward the barn.
“There’s Tanner and the woman,” Gator shouted, although, given the level of noise the motorcycles were making, there was no way his words were heard.
The bikes thundered toward their targets while holding their fire. They were bumping along too much to take an accurate shot and Gator had made it clear to his crew that they were not to harm Kendra, at least not fatally. While a dead woman couldn’t sign a contract, one wounded or raped could.
As they were closing in on them, Gator saw Tanner and Kendra jump as if they were leaping over a stream. After landing they continued their route toward the barn. The ground ahead appeared no different than anywhere else. Gator was puzzling over the reason for their leap when his front wheel dipped low. One moment the ground had been solid, in the next instant, Gator was riding into a ditch.
Kendra had used the tractor earlier to dig a trench. Gator was followed into the ditch by most of his men, with only a lucky few avoiding the trap by stopping in time.
Two bones in Gator’s left forearm broke as he was thrown from his bike. The pain was intense, but it was the shock of falling into something wet that gained his attention. The ground beneath him was wet, but no, not the ground. There was a layer of plastic sheeting at the bottom of the ditch, and someone had poured something on top of that. When Gator’s nose picked up the scent. He began shouting a warning.
“Gasoline! The damn hole is filled with gas.”
His pants were soaked with it and it also covered his hands. Gator was scrambling out of the hole by standing atop his bike, but he was having difficulty because of his busted forearm. When the whooshing sound came, discernable even above the rumble of the engines, Gator wondered if he had run out of time.
* * *
Tanner tossed a lit rag into the far end of the trench. He and Kendra watched a blue flame erupt. The fire snaked along the length of the ditch, and as it moved, the volume and number of screams grew.
Several men made it out of the hole in time to avoid contact. That had been expected. Tanner hefted a rifle to his shoulder and began taking down targets.
The bikers who weren’t roasting in the pit were stunned by the turn of events. Only two had the presence of mind to return fire. Tanner put down one of them while Kendra killed the other. A human torch leapt from the trench and ran blindly toward the barn. He had emerged from the other end which was only a few yards from the structure.
When Tanner looked that way, he saw Jake standing in the open doorway. The boy had gotten his hands on the gun again. He used it to shoot the burning man headed toward him. The flaming figure changed its course, hit the side of the barn, and crashed through a window. Hay had been stacked near that area and it began to burn.
More of the surviving bikers were gaining their wits and coming to their senses. Tanner saw Gator hop on the back of a bike and tell its rider to get them out of there.
At the barn, Jake had grabbed a garden hose from the other side of the building. He was running it inside the barn to fight the growing blaze.
“I’m going to help Jake,” Kendra said.
“Go,” Tanner told her. He had sighted in on Gator’s back and was about to pull the trigger, as he did so, another biker moved in the way of the shot and took the round intended for Gator. That man released a howl of pain, lost control of his bike, and slammed into a tree.
An agonized scream came from a hundred feet in front of Tanner. It was a Dixie Devil. The man had made it out of the trench, however, his legs were on fire. Tanner ended his agony with a round to the head, then watched the survivors flee.
Seven, he counted seven survivors. Between them they had only four motorcycles.
When he turned to look at the barn, Tanner was shocked by what he saw. The fire had spread and was blocking the main door, which was ablaze at its base. The water hose was there and being consumed as well.
Kendra and her son were trapped inside the building with no way to fight the blaze. Even if a fire engine arrived on the scene it couldn’t reach the building because of the trench. Tanner had traveled to Louisiana to save Benjamin Boudreaux’s family. Now it looked like his plan was backfiring and would doom them to suffer a horrible death.
90
Someone To Kill
SOMEWHERE NORTH OF LONDON, OCTOBER 2003
Emma screamed once again for the men to stop, but they kept on beating her father.
Bruce Hart was a tall and rangy man in his fifties who stayed in shape, but he was thirty years older than most of his opponents.
After one of his captors heard on the news that Hart had been a Royal Navy boxing champion, he decided to give him a go. Hart hadn’t boxed in decades. Despite that, he defended himself well against the thug. He had attempted to avoid getting hit, rather than fight to win.
That was no fun for his tormentors, and so they ganged up on him and began pummeling him. Although he had fallen to his knees with his hands hanging at his sides, they continued to strike him.
“Stop hitting him! You’ll kill him,” Emma shouted.
The youngest of her captors, the kid who had driven the van, waded into the melee and began pushing his friends back. He had short brown hair and large ears.
“The girl is right, you’ll kill him if you keep hitting him.”
One of the other men laughed. “We were pulling our punches. He needed softening up anyway, the arrogant bastard.”
Hart collapsed against a wall of the room where he and Emma were being kept. Emma went to him and held him. Her mother had married Bruce Hart two years after her birth father had died in an accident. Emma had been only five at the time. She considered Hart her father and loved him as such. Emma had only a faint memory of her first father, a man from whom she inherited her blue eyes.
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