Part 7. Deception in the Ranks

Hours later, Chris sat at the small bench in his kitchen, the only light on the entire floor of his apartment building coming from his window. It was well past midnight and he should have been attempting sleep, yet there he sat, Vin Tanner's file strewn out over the light wood before him.

There had been no picture of the agent and from what he'd read, he had assumed he'd look different somehow. Indeed, his first impression of seeing him cross the club floor had been one of a hard, lean man, but it wasn't until he had seen his eyes that his opinion had really begun to form. He had blended well with the other bikers, but again, it was that integrity burning in his eyes that had marked him apart from them, he had seen it clearly.

He scanned the words written before him: Sharpshooter; weapons expert; combat specialist… but his own eyes were no longer focusing on the words, they were seeing again the sharp shots of deadly accuracy that had been dealt from Tanner's hand. Deadly, that's what the guy was, that's what all these words led to. He knew all of his skills, his achievements, but he didn't know the one thing he found he wanted to know… What was driving this man? And why did he care? He hadn't cared about anything in a long, long time, so why now was this man's quest becoming his own? For it already had. Their paths were linked months before he had even met him. If he were to indulge in such thoughts, he might even call it destiny.

He rubbed a weary hand over his face then, wincing and automatically flexing his stiff, wounded arm. He looked down at the bandage that wrapped around his bicep, which he hadn't bothered to cover with a t-shirt after his shower. Looking at the white strip of material, he was reminded of the Texan's own bullet wound and unconsciously glanced at the phone sitting nearby. Benning had been right to the point when he had called him earlier to tell him all that had happened that night - Get the Texan in off the street, ASAP.

With another weary sigh, he stood and flexed his neck, trying to relieve the cramp that had settled there and heard a loud snap that made him grunt with relief. He may as well get some sleep, it was going to be a hell of a day tomorrow. Still, he took his phone with him and put it on the bedside table, giving it a scowl as he turned off the light.

He hadn't done the right thing letting the Texan ride off, only it was too damn late to realise it.

..

3am, Denver Central Police Station

"Sir, you're going to have to wait, we're just real busy right now. You might want to check your house, your daughter may have turned up at home by now, you know how teenage girls can be…"

Sergeant Anderson did not get to say another word when Paul McBride's massive fist found the collar of his starched uniform and clutched it in a deadly grip. The father of two, of which his youngest was now missing, leaned in close to the Sergeant's face, his voice rough. Worry, anger, fear and frustration poured into his words.

"You listen to me, you son of a bitch. My little girl don't walk the streets at 3am. She's fuckin'-well missing I tell you and her friend says they were being followed by three bikers." He shook the man again. "If those pricks have her and you're standing here feeding me this shit, I'm going to cut out your worthless heart. Now fucking do something about it before I call the tv people in here myself and let the whole damn city know what an incompetent asshole you are!"

Anderson swallowed and was relieved when the Chief himself came around to put a calming hand on the big man's shoulder.

"Ok Sergeant, I'll take it from here." The grey-haired man told the distraught man in a soothing tone that was meant to placate the worried father as well.

McBride whirled on the older man and threw off the placating hand.

"How many times am I going to be passed from one prick to the next before I reach someone who actually has the balls to do something around here? You guys are dicking me around and my daughter could be – " he broke off then, unable to bring himself to think where his fourteen year old daughter could be right then. He had allowed her to stay at a friends place for the night, waking to the dreaded phone call that she had gone missing.

"I'm in charge here son, so let's go and sort this out right now. Come on, come with me."

The slightly pacified man did not speak again, his emotions threatening to spill over as the Denver Police Chief led him through the scattered desks of the police department to a small, quiet, but overly warm room.

He got up and went to work every day, never afraid to get his hands dirty, but never able to say he loved laying bricks for a living. He paid his taxes, loved his wife and family like nothing else in his life… and he got this. His baby was missing… and bikers might have taken her.

A half hour later, having convinced the distraught father to wait with his family at home, assuring him that he would go above and beyond to get his daughter back and call him the minute he had news, the head of the Denver Police Force sat alone in his office and made a phone call, waiting impatiently for someone to answer while he played with a lackey band by repeatedly stretching it between his fingers.

"Hello?"

"Get Jake on the phone."

There was a silence before a familiarly quiet voice came down the line.

"What's up, Levitz?"

Just the tone of the smug voice made him angry. "Your boys took a girl tonight. I need her back - in one piece."

Jake laughed at the assertiveness the man tried to inflect in his voice. "Don't tell me you're growing a set on me now, Chief," he mocked.

Levitz sighed, frustrated but never knowing how to get what he wanted from the club that had long been paying his way to retirement. "The media are circling. There were witnesses to the shooting tonight and there were witnesses to the girl taken off on a bike. Before morning this will be all over the news and I don't need this kind of heat - the girl's fathers' going nuts." He paused, "You have to give me something," he almost begged. "You have to give me some one," he reiterated.

Jake's laugh grated down the man's weak spine. "Calm yourself old man, I'll be in touch... we wouldn't want the big bad end of the law to come after us now would we?"

Levitz listened to the laugh again as the phone went dead in his ear and returned his own phone to its cradle. He moved to the window, still stretching the rubber band around his fingers. Those sons of bitches had had him over a barrel for years. Sometimes he wished he had of just faced his demons all those years ago, instead of striking a deal with the Devil himself.

..

Back in Chook's office Jake hung up the phone and studied its smooth surface in silence. He looked up at Chooks.

"What do you know about a missing girl?"

Chooks flinched and Jake had his answer.

"Where is she?"

"There's a party going on at a hotel 'cross town. We might find her there."

Jake gave a derisive shake of his head. If the cops had witnesses it was going to get complicated. Someone would have to take the fall if it came to it. He wasn't sure if Turner had been lying to him tonight or not, but it did take the trouble of having to worry about him from his plate. He already knew what Billy would say - better one of the Texan boys than one of their own. It wasn't personal with Turner, truth be told he

admired the man. Probate's were supposed to take the fall for voted brothers, but Billy put his probates ahead of anyone outside his own chapter, as against the national code as that was. At that moment, Turner was on the top of the expendable list.

"Did you get hold of Mitri?"

"Yeah, he says someone turned the camera's off just before the fight. Must've been Keg."

Jake looked thoughtful. "There were witnesses to the girl being taken. Make sure there's no tape of that."

..

Hours after leaving the Shaking Hand with the Doc, Vin awoke slowly, groggily, not even beginning to think any thoughts as his disconnected body and mind worked to find a common ground. There was no pain, no cold, no noise… nothing. It was like he was in a void. He drifted for a while, simply lying calmly, not aware of much until finally sounds outside his room began to register. Voices, music, the heavy noises of bodies moving about, a glass breaking.

Then he was lost… lost in another time, another place where muffled voices and laughter usually preceded terrible things, dark things he had not made sense of back then. He heard a woman laugh and in his mind he saw large men, their faces sneering and their hair wild and long as they reached out for her, laughing as she backed away. Then he moaned and suddenly all was quiet… had they heard him? No no no… but they moved on, going after the woman again.

He could smell the cigarette smoke in the air above him and the strange, sweet smell of the other stuff they smoked that he did not mind, for it usually meant the night was nearly over, that they would fall asleep soon, scattered around the house like the carcases of large beasts.

The sound of heavy boots overhead, thumping across the boards, drew his attention. Someone was coming… And then with the sound of a loud sneeze, the boots moved on and after a while, he dared to breath again, but he still did not move out from under the house.

In time, Vin began to make a connection with his body, his mind gradually grasping his current reality and he felt the tightness of his skin and the slight chill of the room in which he lay, but still his eyes remained closed. He simply breathed, unaware of his environment and not aware enough then to care, his dark thoughts still lingering in the past.

It took another ten minutes before he began to open his eyes, finding nothing but darkness above him, all around him. Was he blind? He moved a hand up to the smooth skin of his chest, feeling its coolness beneath his hand, registering the thick bandage at his side… and finally he began to piece it together. The club… the cops, Keg, Decker, Flea, all dead… riding back, meeting Jake, the Doc… He tried to lift his head slightly then, Jesus where the hell was he?! He didn't remember anything from the time Doc had opened the door of his mustang for him and he had gotten in. Had he passed out? By the feel of the bandage at his side, he had made it to the hospital, but judging by the sounds outside his room, he wasn't there now.

With a low moan, he tried to get up, wanting to find the light, wanting to find out where the hell he was, wanting to visit the bathroom, badly. He recognised the languid feeling in his limbs for what it was, putting it together with the bandages and realising he must have made it to the hospital at least. Whatever they'd knocked him out with was still lingering in his system.

A loud bang came from outside and suddenly there were shouts and the sounds of a woman screaming. Vin sat up straight, suddenly very much awake, trying desperately to shake off his sluggishness. A massive explosion of what could only have been a shotgun barked out from beyond the wall as he got his legs to the floor, stopped by a wave of dizziness. Then suddenly the door was flung open, flooding the room in light and men in black vests, wearing headgear and armed to the teeth, stormed into the room.

"DON'T MOVE ASSHOLE!" a booming voice commanded him.

Vin blinked up at the blinding light and the silhouette of the men facing him, unable to make them out clearly through his still blurry vision as he perched on the edge of the bed.

"Get your hands up above your head!"

He managed one hand up and half raised the other, feeling for the first time his left side tighten and pull in protest.

"I said get your hands up!"

He rose them higher, jaw hard, eyes trying to cut through the blurry light and still not knowing what the hell was going on.

"In here Chief! We've found her Sir!"

Found her...? Found who? He turned his head to look around the room but was forced to stop as he was shouted at once again.

"I'm warning you, you sack of shit, don't – move!" the voice commanded and Vin made out a gun aiming higher, towards his head. Judging by the scope he could see, he knew there would be a red dot right about centre of his forehead. These guys were serious.

One of the men approached the bed and Vin prepared himself for attack, but the man moved around him to the other side. Then the men before him parted and another man entered through the door, moving to stand between them as he looked around the room. Vin looked up and blinked, but could not see the man's shadowed face. It was all he could do to remain still as the silence stretched, only the sounds of order's being barked and men and women protesting outside the room reaching his ears, until the man before him finally spoke.

"Is she alive?"

"Yes Sir. She appears to be unconscious, but her vitals are stable," the man said from beside Vin.

Vin felt a cold dread begin in his stomach. What the hell was going down here? He wanted to turn his head and look, but knew they were after any excuse to shoot him.

"Get her out of here - now," the Chief ordered and by the sound of his voice Vin presumed he was an older man.

Vin felt the bed dip beside him and after a moment the man walked past him into the light and Vin could make out the form of a dead weight in his arms, with short, blonde hair catching in the light as he lifted her out. This was bad. Whatever the fuck this was, it was bad. He looked up at the Captain as the tall man stepped towards him.

"Flemming, Chad, stay here, the rest of you wait outside."

"Yes sir," came the response and Vin watched two men leave, while the others moved closer towards him.

He looked up at the Chief's eyes as the man loomed above him and suddenly he was yanked to his feet and held up by his shoulders.

"She's only fourteen you son of a bitch!"

The backhand took him by surprise, snapping his head to the side before he was dragged back up to face the enraged Chief, but still he did not respond. How the hell could he? He was still struggling to piece it together when the first hit sank into his stomach, steeling his breath as he sank to his knees, adjusting to the newly heightened pain before they dragged him up again.

It took only minutes before he fell slack between the men holding him, but they were long, hard, painful minutes that he endured and he never got to speak a word in his defence. His last memory was of the taste of blood on his lips and he had a strong sense of de ja vu. Only then, it had been the wrong side of the law paying him a lesson – and at least then, he had known the reason why.

..

Ezra woke up slowly, adjusting to the silent room around him. It took a while to clear his head and register the sounds of the hospital beyond his room.

"So, you finally decide to wake up."

It was not the voice he had been expecting, although the slight accent was familiar to his ears. He turned his head, adjusting to the pale light and found the face of Mitri Vlahov beside him, standing by the window, looking down with a thoughtful expression.

He was fast regaining his thoughts, one had to in his line of work. It was second nature to him to first put in place who, and what exactly, he was expected to be, before he said a single word.

"Mr Vlahov... I trust you'll forgive me for not closin' up this mornin', I found myself entertainin' some unexpected guests."

A faint smile found Mitri's lips as the older man moved forward, his face now shadowed as he turned his back to the light from the window.

"I am the one who must apologise, I also did not know that my club has a white-only employment policy," he flicked a glance then at the door, before suddenly stepping forward and taking the chair by Ezra's bed.

"If I might make a suggestion?" Ezra said wryly, "perhaps in future checking the fine print would not be unwise when choosing nefarious criminals to partner with."

Mitri was silent a moment, apparently weighing his words. "I know you are an intelligent man..."

Ezra looked down at the compliment, not sure where the man was going. He obviously had a reason for coming here.

"...I also know that you defended this black man, and that is why you are here now. A very stupid, but very

honourable thing to do."

Ezra looked up then and could indeed see something different in Mitri's eyes that had not been there previously. There was respect there. In stepping up to defend Nathan, he had won points with his boss.

"Back in my country, we had much trouble with men who ran the town… Corruption that did not stop until it reached the top." The older man looked down as he spoke, remembering. "Everybody had to answer to somebody, but there was no-one looking out for the little man." There was sincerity in his eyes when he looked up and passion in his words when he went on. "I came here, to this country, to escape this, to make a better life, to be free… and here I am, caught up again in the same greed, the same story of men wanting power over the smaller man…"

Ezra remained silent as Mitri looked at him again, his face wanting the Southerner to understand. He had never had much of a conversation with the man in the last few months beyond work and procedures, so still had no idea where this was leading.

"This black man that you employed, your friend that they tried to beat… he did nothing, I do not like this bullying of men, it is the same in every country. The people of my town had no chance in life, no way of escaping, they forced us to choose another life if we wanted to make it better for ourselves, for our families - so we come here to start again - to make our own choices." He paused a moment. "These men came to me. I just wanted to build something great, to have a place where people could be free and," he admitted with a slight shrug and a widened smile, "of course, I wanted to make more money."

Ezra's smile was slight but genuine. Now that he could certainly understand.

"I do not care about the drugs, if I was not selling them, someone else would be. You cannot run a club nowadays and not offer the full menu, yes? I would never sell enough alcohol to these kids to make any money and I am already charging criminal prices for water."

Ezra didn't comment, Mitri had come to him, after all. He was small time compared to the bikers and that was who he was after.

"But I do not wish to live under the rule of these men any more. They are bad men, they do not have any respect for anybody and without respect for man, they are animals."

Another good point, Ezra thought, but where was this going? He waited for Mitri to continue but was surprised to see him get up to leave. The man looked down at him with an intense look.

"I am sorry that you had to suffer. I hope soon that we can find a way to stop these men for good."

Ezra looked hard at Mitri. "I could think of nothing that would suit me more."

Mitri smiled down at his employee before turning to the door. "I will see you back when you are well enough." He sighed unexpectedly. "But for now I must go, the police are wanting to speak to me. Some girl has gone missing last night, they think she was at the club." He shook his head at that as he left. As if he was meant to be responsible for every person that went there! "These parents cannot control their children and look for someone else to blame."

Ezra watched the older man leave and although his expression never changed, he was very happy with the outcome of the night's events. Bikers were dead, so it hadn't been a total waste of time. Now they would be hearing back from the Jokers in retaliation, so things were definitely heating up. They had stirred the nest, now they would just have to see what would come at them.

..

Chris awoke to the shrill sound of the phone ringing beside him and was instantly awake, grabbing it and answering quickly.

"Larabee."

"Chris, it's Will."

He was disappointed and knew why. As he looked at his watch, showing six in the morning, he realised the Texan had failed to call. Buck had informed him he had made it to the bar, but what help had he found there? He leant back against the headboard.

"Somebody die?" His voice implied somebody had better have, considering the time he'd been woken up.

Ignoring the churlish tone, Benning got to the point. "We've got a bit of a situation. Your NTF Agent just got himself arrested for the kidnapping and rape of a minor... amongst other things."

Chris was more awake than he had been for months and yet he found he had no idea how to respond to the totally unexpected words. There were too many thoughts and questions flooding through his head. It took him several long seconds to recover. "Where are they holding him?"

"County Hospital."

Chris frowned. "Because of the bullet wound?"

Benning cursed. "He's been beaten to hell and back. The Chief down there reckons his boys found him that way, but it wouldn't be the first time some punishment was dealt out at the scene. Rape of a minor doesn't go down too well with the boys, most of `em have daughters themselves."

Chris was out of bed and chasing clothes. "Where are you?"

"At home. Swing by and pick me up, we can go over what we both know on the way. I gotta tell ya Chris, something seems wrong about this. From what you told me, he wouldn't have been in any state to pull this off after he left you last night."

"Fuck, Will, he was lucky to make it anywhere last night, the shape he was in. There's something else going on here."

"Well, that's where we come in. See you soon."

Chris hung up and paused as his reflection caught in the bathroom mirror and he stopped to stand before it. He didn't see his tousled reflection staring back, nor his still naked chest and lowly sitting sweat-pants. All he saw was a tail light fading out of the carpark and the voice of a quiet drawl as it pleaded with him in the rain...

'Do you know what it will take to bring these bastards down? Do you have any idea what's involved?… These guys are fuckin' animals, and I've been living with 'em fer a year. I'm prepared ta do that, if it means I'll take 'em down in the end.'

Blinking, he ran a hand through his hair before turning to get dressed. "You better hope you got some answers for this mess, Tanner… or it's my ass too."