“¿Hablas inglés?” It’s about all the Spanish I’ve got, so I hope to fuck someone does. There are half a dozen Hispanic children huddled in front of me—four girls, two boys, ranging in age from about five to fifteen if I’m any judge.
A boy, probably only just entering his teens, offers a hesitant, “Sí. I speak English a little. Is it safe to go now, mister?”
The question surprises me. “Safe?” I ask. “How did you get here?”
The boy looks at the others and speaks to the oldest girl rapidly in Spanish. She shakes her head.
“Are you bad men? Will you send us back?”
How do I answer? I’ll get them out of this hellhole that’s for certain, but I’ve no idea what will happen then. Right now, I’ve no intention and no means of getting them back to Mexico. I’ve made an educated guess that knowing the scam Devon’s running, that’s where they’ve come from. I move my head side to side. “No. What’s your name, kid?”
“Jorge.”
I raise my chin. “Well, Jorge. I need to know how you got here. Can you tell me?”
They seem cautious, but not particularly scared. That seems odd.
“A good man saved us and brought us here. Told us to stay until he told us it was safe to leave. There are bad men searching for us.”
It was the devil himself who’d taken them, that I truly believe. Carefully I slide out my phone and show them a picture of the photographer. “Is this the man?”
“Si.”
“Status report,” Bolt again demands.
Niran, who’s descended behind me, turns away and starts mumbling as though to himself. At least he’s taken the onus from me.
“You got family in the States? Have any of you?”
“Si.” The boy nods his head. “My sister,” he indicates the youngest child, “and I are going to our aunts. She lives in San Francisco.” He pronounces the name of the city carefully.
“How were you going to get there?”
“I call her,” Jorge says, full of confidence. “She’ll come get us.”
I can make that happen, I think. That’s two out of the way. “And the others?”
Another discussion in their native language, then the story comes out. All but the eldest crossed the border with their families but were separated by border control. Their parents taken into detention, but a ‘kind’ border control agent passed them onto the good man so they wouldn’t end up taken prisoner. They’re beyond grateful to the man who saved them. Their plans? To hide and wait out until, hopefully, the adults they made the crossing with were set free. Not going to happen. I know it’s more likely they’ll be sent back to Mexico, leaving their kids to fates I hope they can’t imagine.
“This man,” I tap the photo on the phone. “He bring you here? Does he come back to check on you?”
The boy nods. “He said he’d be back soon when it was safe. He left us with food, but it’s gone now.”
I eye the pile of candy and chip wrappers, and realise Devon knows shit about children’s nutrition. But it’s a way to curry favour perhaps by giving them what they enjoy. I also view the pile of empty water containers. A couple of the kids have half-filled bottles by their sides, but there’s no more.
Either Devon’s due back soon or he seriously underestimated how long what he left them would last.
Behind me, Niran updates Swift with what I’ve just seen, and she fast comes to the same conclusion as myself.
“Stay there. I’m directing everyone else to you. You okay to head this for now, Grumbler?”
I turn, and like Niran, lower my voice. “One of us will stay with the kids, the others will hide in the house. If Devon’s coming back, he won’t know we’re waiting for him.”
“Make sure the front door is locked. Bolt will turn the alarm back on, so he’s not set on his guard immediately.”
“What about the fuckin’ kids?” I ask her.
“Trying to sort that out,” Swift confirms in her business-like manner. “They’ll be taken care of.”
Hopefully by not giving them back to the type of bastard who traded them to Devon. “We got a dirty border control agent,” I tell her.
“We’re aware.”
Those two words speak volumes, and I don’t know why, but I’m reassured that dirty apple will be brought down. The problem is, money speaks volumes, and while we can take him and Devon down, someone else will step in, both in the porn business and snatching unaccompanied kids.
This time I address Niran. “Wait here for a moment. I’ll send Keeper down to watch out for the kids.” For some reason, I don’t want to leave them alone for a moment.
“Let me stay,” Niran replies. “Devon’s got no other fuckin’ reason to be here but to open the hatch. I’ll be waiting for him. The rest of you can deal with him from the top. You think he’ll be coming alone?”
I’m not sure. “He may be bringing transport and may need help in case any of the kids decide to go their own way. Can’t rule out he won’t be here mob-handed. Might need you up top, Brother.” Protecting the kids is a simple job, Keeper should do it.
Niran shakes his head and leans in close to my ear. “Don’t like the thought of bullets flying in this confined space. I can handle it better than Keeper.”
I hate to admit it, but he’s right. As a Marine, Niran is capable of almost anything.
“Jorge?” I wait until I’ve got the boy’s attention. “This is Niran, he’s a friend. He’s going to stay and keep you company. I’ll be back in a bit then we can contact your aunt for you and your sister, and sort something out for the rest of you. Is that okay?”
Jorge studies me for a moment, then puts his hand into his pocket and pulls out a dirty and creased piece of paper, looking like it’s been unfolded and folded many times. His hands shake slightly as he hands it to me. “My aunt’s number.”
Fuck, if that doesn’t hit me in the gut. This kid, he’s trusting me. But that’s what got him into this position isn’t it? Trusting the wrong adult. For once, I make a promise, he’s picked the right one.
“Give that to me as soon as you can, Grumbler,” Swift says into my ear. “I’ll make sure she’s contacted and ready for Jorge and his sister to arrive. You got a prospect who doesn’t mind a trip to San Francisco?”
“I can make it work.” By now, I’m pulling myself up the ladder. Once at the top, Kink and Keeper close the trapdoor behind me, and I reel the number off.
“Got it,” Swift confirms, reading it back.
“You need any more men inside?” Bolt’s voice comes into my ear. “The others are nearing to your location, but I’ll tell them to stay back.”
I glance around at who I’ve got. If directed, Keeper will be fine, and Kink knows the score. “We’ve got the element of surprise, we’ll do alright.”
“I’ve locked the doors,” Keeper confirms.
“And the alarm’s alarmed,” Bolt confirms. “If we get a sighting of activity, we’ll give you the heads-up. Otherwise, we’ll be looking to you Grumbler to get that motherfucker locked down. Then we’ll come in and take him off your hands.”
Hopefully they’ll take him back to our brig so I can have a conversation with him myself. But that’s out of my power now, if they’ve other plans.
Now, I’ve got to decide how this will play out. “Kink, station yourself behind the door, let him or them come in before showing yourself. Keeper, get up to the landing on the stairs and keep down low out of sight. Don’t show yourself unless things start to go south. I’ll get down behind the kitchen counter and will make the frontal approach.” That means I’m the one most exposed to a stray bullet, but I was never one to run from a fight. Especially not as sergeant-at-arms, it’s my job to keep everyone safe.
“Take fuckin’ care, Grumbler.” The voice of my prez booms in my ear. “There’s still time to get more men to you if you need them.”
“Too dangerous, Prez. If I were Devon, I’d be scoping things out, making sure there’s nothing su
spicious around.” Thank fuck we managed to park our bikes out of sight. “He might already be driving around. There’s a lot hanging on those kids not being found.”
“You need us, we’ll be there. Keep the comms open.”
As if I could close them.
“Truck turning into the road.” This is from Bolt.
“Positions,” I instruct, waiting myself until Keeper’s taken his vantage position, checking he’s where he can see but not be seen, and Kink’s waiting with his gun raised ready to fire or use as a threat out of sight behind the door.
It’s only then I sink to my haunches beside the countertop. In order to see anything, I’ll have to expose myself, but hopefully anyone will be looking at eye level, and not down at their feet.
An engine cuts out in front of the house, and doors quietly close, probably with respect to any neighbours near enough to be disturbed. Then, there’s the scraping of a key in the lock and someone steps inside. The alarm is luckily affixed to the wall on the side of the door opposite to where Kink’s hiding.
I hold my breath, but the alarm apparently raises no red flags, and spy Devon tapping a number in.
Come on inside and close the door, I mouth.
Devon steps back, allowing two others to walk past him into the room.
“You want to bring the kids up so we can get them into the truck? They going to come quietly?”
“Don’t they always?” Devon snorts, kicking the door closed behind them. “They think they’ve arrived in the goddamn States and will make their fortune. Most of them won’t care where we’re taking them, two might. They’ve gone on and on about contacting their fuckin’ aunt.”
“We’ll shut them up, won’t we, Bert?” The speaker elbows the other man, and his answering chuckle sends shivers down my spine.
“You need to rethink your plans.” An audible click shows the men that the man who has suddenly appeared behind them is armed.
Of course, one wants to be a hero. I see him sliding a gun out of a shoulder holster ready to fire as he turns, but I’ve got half a second on him and take him down, luckily before he can get a shot off. My gun’s equipped with a silencer, his was not. All we’d need is fuckin’ nosy neighbours.
“Don’t fuckin’ move,” I say, as I stand and expose myself. “We’ve got beads on you both. Take out your weapons very carefully and put them on the ground.”
The unnamed man left standing obviously wants to live. He takes out his gun and lays it gently on the ground.
“Slide it over here.”
At my instruction, he does. Picking it up, I put it into my belt.
Devon, though, he’s not moved. “I know you.” He narrows his eyes. “You’re the asshole with the bike. What do you want?”
Does he know we’ve found the kids? Watching him very carefully, I notice him nonchalantly glance around, his eyes resting momentarily on the closed, and now invisible again hatch.
“Money you owe me.” I string him along.
“And that’s worth killing someone?” Devon’s eyes open wide. “You could have just asked me, man.”
“You’re a hard person to track down,” I tell him.
I hear a snick and see while we’ve been talking, Kink’s got the thug’s hands cuffed behind him. Trust Kink to bring the proper equipment, myself, I just use zip ties.
“On the ground,” Kink barks, waiting until the man lies prone. “Keep? Got him covered?”
“Yeah,” Keeper replies.
Devon’s hand moves toward his jacket.
“Stop,” I bark. “Lower your hands.”
“Just getting my wallet out. I’ll give you your money, then you can leave us alone.”
Hmm. Not that I need it, but Alicia might. “Two thousand dollars. You carry that much around?”
He rolls his eyes. With Kink’s gun to his head, he takes out his wallet and carefully counts out twenty hundreds. Walking forward, I snatch it out of his hands and place it in my cut.
“We straight now?” He eyes the dead man on the ground but doesn’t seem heartbroken over his death.
“I don’t think so.” I shake my head sadly. “Gone way past that now. Got some folks want to have a conversation with you.”
As Devon stiffens at the touch of the barrel of Kink’s gun digging into the back of his head, I start searching the man, patting him down. He’s got a gun, but other than that he’s clean.
“I got more money,” he tells me. “Far more than you’d get modelling your fuckin’ bike.”
“Too late,” I reply. “See, when a man’s dishonest in the small things, it makes people start to think. You’ve done shit to me, Devon, shit much more than stealing from me. Owen and Alicia, ring any bells?”
“That had nothing to do with me!” Devon screeches as Kink yanks his arms behind him, another loud snick proving he’s come equipped with more than one pair of handcuffs. “That was all Owen. I refused to touch the video he’d made. I’m not into that shit.”
“Grumbler?”
“Two trussed and ready for transport. One dead,” I answer Bolt.
“On our way.”
“Is there anything you want to tell us before my friends come for you?” I ask, well aware there’s a hole full of kids right under our feet. Devon doesn’t seem to suspect we’ve found them. What’s he going to do? Fess up so we can save them or leave them to die to save his sorry ass.
“Owen tried to get me involved in shit I wouldn’t touch.” Devon’s voice rises louder. “I just take pictures. I’m not interested in videos. It’s him you should be after. If you let me loose, I can take you where he hangs out.”
But he won’t be there. By now, he’s six feet under if the prospects have done their job right.
Bolt and Swift appear in the doorway.
“I told the others to go back to the compound as you’ve got it all handled here. No need for multiple bikes waking up the neighbourhood,” Swift informs me. As her eyes fall on the man on the ground, she looks almost impressed. “Take the body out to the truck.”
Keeper comes down the stairs and assists Wrangler to drag the body.
“This one’s going to go bye-bye for a while.” She stabs a syringe in the other thug’s neck. His eyes go wide and then he drops to the floor. “Keeps them quiet for transport,” she says conversationally.
Something about Swift must warn Devon he’s in the presence of no normal woman. It might be the way her eyes are so hard, or that she’s regarding him like a specimen in a jar, but he tries to back away, coming up against Kink.
“What are you going to do to me?” he cries.
“Nothing less than you deserve,” Swift promises, “which gives me a lot of scope.” She winks at me. “Before I put you to sleep like the animal you are, are you sure there’s nothing you need to tell us?” She glances around. “This place isn’t lived in, so what do you use it for?”
“Meetings! Just meetings!” Devon cries out.
Swift too must realise he’d happily leave the kids starving and crying out for help that never comes, so she smashes her fist into his stomach. “Motherfucker, I wish I was sending you to rot in hell.” She raises her hand with the syringe, but then hesitates. “But then, a living death might have you suffering longer.” She uses another syringe in the neck of the man who’s still hunched over. That punch must have hurt.
I hope she’s damaged something vital.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Grumbler
As two limp bodies are dragged out to the truck, Swift approaches me. “Where are the kids?”
I point to the trap door she’s all but standing on and point downward. “There.”
“Where’s the entrance?”
I fight a smile as I tell her again, pointing to the same spot. “There.”
Bemused, she drops to her hands and knees. I help her out, raising the loose planks and showing her the hatch. “Are we going to let them out now?”
“Yeah. I told Wrangler to bring the truck stra
ight back.”
“What’s going to happen to the kids?” I narrow my eyes. Border security did wrong by them once, it doesn’t feel right to just hand them back. Whatever the rights and wrongs of allowing illegal immigrants in are, the best these kids could expect would be to be housed potentially in cages and that just feels off.
“I’ve contacted some social workers who help get kids like this off the streets. They’ll get them fostered out until any adults with them get their immigration status sorted. Oh, and she’s expecting four, not six. I’ve called the aunt, and she’s beside herself with relief. Jorge and his sister will go straight there.”
I suppose that’s all we can do.
Bolt comes over, his face bemused as he sees the more than adequate soundproofing on the hatch.
“Fuck.” He wipes his hands over his face. “We might never have known they were there. Make that bastard hurt, Swift.”
She turns such a cold look on him. It’s in that moment I get the first glimpse of Utah’s enforcer. “I know ways,” she tells him in an icy tone, “that won’t leave a fuckin’ mark, but which will scar him forever.”
If she can, then she’ll be good in my books.
Niran’s head appears at the top of the ladder. “Didn’t hear a fuckin’ thing down there. All good?”
“Bad guys gone,” I tell him, grinning. “You had it easy.”
“Easy? You know how often these fuckin’ kids pee?”
I hadn’t thought of that and hadn’t noticed any receptacle down there. “What do they use?”
“There’s a compartment where a bucket is stored. Doesn’t do much to reduce the stink, but the kids know what it’s for.” Niran clambers out. “Come on, kids, you can come out now.”
The oldest girl is the first to reach the top, leaning back her hand to help the others. Jorge comes up last after his sister.
“We go see my aunt now?” he asks.
“Yeah, kid. She knows you’re here and is waiting for you. Just need to organise someone to drive you there.” His little face brightens, and he turns and speaks to his sister, updating her in Spanish.
Grumbler's Ride: Satan's Devils MC San Diego #2 Page 31