Part 15. The Flight of William Wallace
Vin woke early, but stayed where he lay for a time, wrapped in the folds of the bedroll that Sugar had left him in the back of the truck. He had considered dragging it out and finding a place amongst the men bunked down in the shed, but his weary body had decided that the dry canopy of the car was a long enough haul from the house. Besides, when he had crashed into sleep, the men were still revelling about the grounds and not near tiring from their partying. He would not find a spot so quiet as this.
For long minutes, his mind drifted through waves of warmth as outside dark, black clouds sat low against a
weakened sun, which was struggling to make a notable appearance on the horizon. He wandered tranquil through thoughtless journeys with no purpose and no end, a cherished time of first awakening, when the soul has arisen but the mind has not yet come to the fore, allowing problems and worry to be pushed beyond reach.
Then came the inevitable sounds of dawn beyond the glass windows and fibreglass which surrounded him in the back of the truck, birds lowly skimming in search of food, dogs gnawing at each other for territory in a strange land, but there were no noises of man, for the men would long be dead to the new day, having exhausted themselves in the moment of the night before.
That was his awakening thought, the realisation that the voices of the men were absent and with that came memory of the night before. The fires, the men, the house, his father. Awakening could be a time for either clinging to warm dreams or to be thankful that the dream was just that, a fabrication of the subconscious. For Vin that morning it was a mixture of both. He cherished the memories that sleep had resurfaced, yet looked with anticipation to what the day would bring, for now he was closer than ever to his goals. This was a dawn like no other, for a long and weary search was now over. He had met the man that he had hunted from youth and there had been no satisfaction taken, not yet, but it was just a matter of time now.
He rolled over with a frustrated growl of pain as skin and muscle shifted around his ribs, then surprised himself by realising he had found a comfortable position, incredible considering the hard, ridged metal which lay beneath his back. And so it was, minutes later, that he lay there still, the contemplation of taking a walk to ease the stiffness from his muscles quickly forgotten in the shroud of a light doze, when a noise and a chuckle drew him back to the land of the living once more.
He became aware of a cool, fresh breeze swirling around the once warm cab and knew instantly that something was amiss. The fact that the air carried the scent of a familar-smelling sweet smoke, combined with the continued whispers and chuckles that were now reaching him had him instantly alert, although he had still yet to move.
"It's gaunnae jump."
"He's not an `it'," he heard Bruce's indignant voice cut off Ivan, "he's a ` he'."
"They jump?!" came Cheeses incredulous voice, filled with alarm. He'd been all for the morning prank, until that little bit of information.
Vin wanted to move then, but didn't want to give up the game just yet. Whatever the boys were up to, they obviously thought they had the element of surprise. He had seen many a victim of their pranks before and he could only hope this was not one that would put him back in the hospital, knowing their penchant for taking things too far.
"Twenty says it'll make it to his head." Rizzo said from a distance.
"He!" Bruce corrected once more with exasperation. "His name is Wallace, William Wallace to you son - it's not an it!"
"You mean ' he's' not an 'it'," Cheese corrected Bruce with a grin at his friend's returned scowl.
"Just watch. You're on Rizzo, I say Turner's gonna move and Wallace'll jump before he gets to his head."
"Do they really jump?" Cheese tried to keep the horror from his voice, but he really did want to know. The trick in a situation like this was to not show your fear. If you showed fear, you would be the next victim, plain and simple… but he was secretly terrified of Wallace.
Vin pried an eye open slowly while the absurd conversation went on nearby, still not moving an inch. He could make out several dark forms outside the tailgate of the car and saw then that the back window was open, the reason for the cool breeze.
"Fuckin' oath they do. Like kangaroos."
"Kangaroo's… where do you come out with this crap?"
"I saw it on the nature channel!" Bruce defended his wild statement with much arrogance, watching his beloved pet take tentative steps up the blanket towards Vin's head.
"Like you watch the nature channel."
"I don't know why you take that thing everywhere with you, it's not right." Rizzo cut in, his voice sounding tentative and a little further away. "Why don't you get a real pet, like a dog? I hate having that thing lurking around all the time. It's fuckin' weird."
"Like a dog would fit in my saddlebag," Bruce dismissed the idea.
"Some of those little ones would," Cheese argued. "Ya see women stuffin' 'em in their handbags."
"Ye mean like a Chihuahua?" Ivan asked.
"Wallace would eat a Chihuahua for breakfast," Bruce bragged with pride, but actually believed it was possible. He'd seen it take on a small bird once, although he didn't tell his friends that. They barely tolerated his pet as it was. He called to Rizzo who was standing by a tree a good distance away from the morning activities. "Stop smoking that shit and get over here, you're like a woman!"
"I'm happy over here, supervising. One day when it kills someone, I ain't gonna step up to defend you." He wasn't coming any closer to the hairy menace if his life depended on it. Unlike Cheese, he openly displayed his fear and loathing of Wallace, and all things insect-like. The difference with him was, people rarely wanted to play a prank on him, because his retribution would be tenfold. He had a reputation for being a little psychotic, whether it was true or not was irrelevant in the end. A reputation was a reputation, carefully orchestrated or not.
"They don't kill people," Bruce said, not taking his eyes from the slowly moving hunter.
"Tell that tae Doctor No!" Ivan said, watching Wallace's slow ascent up the blanket with fascination.
"There he goes… that's it… movin' on up there Wally-boy…" Bruce coaxed.
"So they have no poison?" Cheese asked, ever curious.
"Not bad poison."
"There's a good kind?"
Vin had heard enough. Still, he wasn't about to leap up and dislodge whatever the hell they had planted in the car with him that was now crawling up his blanket and send it into an attacking frenzy. He pieced the clues together. Hairy, poisonous, pet, jumping, Doctor No... His heart picked up its pace. Not a Tarantula. God not a Tarantula. He opened both eyes fully and blinked them into focus… and stared into more pairs of eyes than was necessary for any creature born of the good earth. Tarantula.
Three men held their breath, seeing now that Vin had awoken and met his foe. The fourth reluctant conspirator still remained a good distance from the attack range should the thing decide to leap out of the window and come flying at him. For all Rizzo knew, the freak things could fly. However, their enthusiasm was quickly dampened when the shriek and curse that they had expected did not come from inside the car. Instead, a low, sleepy voice reached them.
"Well now, little buddy, ya look a might lost there."
Calmly, Vin raised a hand and ever so slowly put it under the front feet of the fully-grown spider, his movements so subtle and relaxed that no-one would ever have guessed that his heart was hammering at a hundred miles an hour within his chest. He knew their bite wasn't deadly, but he didn't relish getting bitten by it. Besides, the sheer mutated size of the creature scared the hell out of him, even though he knew there was no rational reason for his fear. They were not normally aggressive creatures. Normally.
"What the –" Bruce was amazed and yet disappointed that his plan to scare Vin out of his bed with his pet Tarantula had not succeeded.
Slowly sitting up, using his free hand to push up and take the strain from the muscles of his stomach, Vin brought the spider with him to the back gate, satisfied when everyone but Bruce backed slowly away from him. He held it out to the now scowling man with a lopsided grin, not wanting to give away the absolute squeamishness he was actually feeling at that second as the creature padded around his skin.
"Lose somethin'?"
Bruce held out a hand and took William Wallace back onto his palm without a word, hearing his friends start to chuckle around him. He let it climb up his arm until it rested on his shoulder.
"That ain't right, you've trained it like a parrot."
"Ye cannae train those bastards," Ivan corrected Cheese. "They're like pit-bulls, they'll turn on ye sooner or later."
"Look at the ground clearance on that thing!"
Bruce took offence on behalf of his hairy friend and turned on them, presenting his back to Vin who took the moment to give way to the giant shiver he'd felt building as the heavy feet had pattered around on his hand. The weight of the thing alone was enough to freak him out. He tried to cover his reaction by turning and reaching for his boots, but they missed it anyway from where they stood being accosted by Bruce.
"It's not a `thing' or an `it'! I ain't tellin' ya again! Have some fucking respect!"
There was a second's silence where Bruce began to calm down, thinking he'd finally gotten his friends to show some respect… until the sound of Cheese's voice defied him.
"That thing's hairier than Rizzo's arse."
"Hey!"
That sent them all off laughing again, even Vin, whom they had rarely seen openly laugh. Bruce's curse only had Ivan bent over with more laughter as he readily agreed with Cheese.
"Ah never seen a hairier erse in aw mah puff."
That got another rise of indignation from Rizzo but before he could speak Bruce let his peeking outrage fly.
"You're comparing Wallace to Rizzo's ass?!" he said with disbelief.
Rizzo had started to nod, thinking Bruce was going to defend him, when he suddenly checked his response,
realising he had just been insulted. Again.
"My ma had a yak rug once that had less hair than Rizzo's ass."
Rizzo took a step forward, eyed the creature still sitting on Bruce's shoulder, and moved back again. "How did my ass get into this?"
But Ivan wasn't finished and grated out through his laughter, "mebbe ye could weave a rug outtae Rizzo's erse, make pillows from the fleece `n aw –"
But Cheese wanted to know, "can you really make a rug out of a yak?"
Scowling now, Rizzo cut them off, his amusement long gone and in one well practised move of defiance flipped open the button of his jeans and dropped them down, turning to present them all with the object of their fascination. One hairy paw came around to run through the thick matt of hair that did indeed cover his butt. "It's called a man growth, somethin' you Anglo boys just don't achieve in your lifetimes."
Cheese laughed anew at the absurdity of the words as Bruce responded by grabbing his crotch to emphasise his point. "Here's my man growth. I think you're concentratin' growth in the wrong area."
But in all the movement of Bruce's body, the proud pet owner finally managed to frighten his beloved Wallace. The result was astounding. And terrifying. In the blink of an eye, the overly large creature took flight, all eight of it's overly long legs acting indeed like steel springs that sprung him a fantastically long distance through the air.
In Cheese's mind, the dark shape of Wallace seemed to hang in the air for an eternity, as if it had the power of the Matrix and was defying gravity as it sailed effortlessly through the space between Bruce and Rizzo.
It was obvious, the frightened pet's final destination. It was seeking cover. The unsuspecting Rizzo, having moved forward to make his point with his back turned, never saw it coming until it was upon him, the weight of it's landing on his rear end sending him into a moment of statue stillness… And then, finally, they had the screaming they had sought after when they had removed Wallace from the safety of Bruce's saddlebags and headed towards the sleeping Vin.
Vin could not make out any of the words as he watched Rizzo doing a crazed kind of dance in a frantic circle with his pants at half-mast, but he thought he heard the repeated phrase `get it off', interspersed with a long continual stream of expletives, and perhaps even a whimpering `please' towards the end.
Ivan was beyond speech, holding his flat belly as he pointed an arm at the spectacle. "It's headed fae cover! Ahhhh all that hair's jist like gittin' home tae the forrest!"
But Bruce was frantic. "Stop movin' for Christ sakes! Yer gonna scare him! Stop movin'!"
"You sure it ain't one a' them trapdoor spiders? CLENCH UP RIZZO 'FORE IT TRIES TA FIND IT'S HOLE!" Cheese shouted, tears streaming down his face.
Rizzo couldn't have stopped it he tried and as hazardous as his plight was, he missed his step on a rather small rock and went crashing to the ground, turning on reflex as he landed to fall… square on his ass.
"God – NO!"
There was silence for a moment as everyone went still. Rizzo stared up at Bruce's shocked expression from where he sat on the ground, his naked, albeit hairy, butt firmly planted in the soil.
Vin had been watching from his seat on the tailgate with an amused grin as he'd been pulling on his boots, which had turned quickly into laughter when the spider had let fly. By the time Rizzo had fallen to the ground he could not hold onto his composure in the face of such an absurd situation. Tears actually left his eyes as he realised that Rizzo was paler than sea foam, blinking up in horror at Bruce's tormented expression. It was the sight of the man who usually had a comeback for everything, now struck completely dumb, that did him in.
Cheese straightened his bent, laughing frame and peered at the ground around Rizzo, looking for some sign that Wallace had made it and yet praying more that he hadn't.
"Maybe…" he stifled a chuckle, taking composing breaths, "maybe he made it…" Then he thought it over. "But it would have been like throwin' a picnic blanket over an ant when that ass came crashin' down on it."
"Poor wee Wallace… he didnae stand a chance."
Bruce's head whipped around to look at Ivan, his suspicion confirmed when he saw the humour ravaging the long face of his friend, bellying the sympathetic words. He turned away in disgust, his anguish plain.
"Wallace?" he said, stepping towards Rizzo's outstretched legs as if it would come running at his call.
Ivan replayed the spider flying through the air like an avenging bird in his mind yet again and a strangled sound of laughter worked its way out of his throat. "Where's a camera when ye need one?"
"I've never seen anything like it," Cheese agreed, the hairy, flailing legs of Wallace emblazoned in his retinas for what he was sure would be years to come.
"Is it dead?" Rizzo asked, still too scared to move. He had mixed feelings on the matter. On the one hand, he wanted it dead dead dead, but on the other, he knew Bruce's wrath would be terrible indeed if he had in fact squashed his pet.
"Tell me it's not all tangled in his furry ass, his legs all splayed out and caught in the trap of his hair –" Cheese said, grimacing now at that cartoonish mental picture.
"That hair probably saved his hide." Bruce said.
"How?"
But Bruce ignored him, moving forward to search the ground carefully.
"It aint the bite that hurts people, it's a reaction to their hair." Vin supplied in his quiet manner, still smiling as Bruce tentatively conducted his search.
"Really?" Cheese asked, suspicious of his gullibility being taken advantage of yet again.
Vin's smile grew at the man's unquenchable curiosity. For a moment, he had a vision of the young agent Dunne, asking him about motorbikes in the hospital. "When they get scared they throw hair at ya with their legs."
"Toxic hair," Bruce added, scowling at Rizzo.
Cheese grinned, understanding. "Jeez, Rizzo, guess you are lucky your ass is like a bears."
That had Rizzo smiling despite his paralysis. "See? It's Man Growth. A defence against attack."
Vin's voice softly called out to Bruce then. He had been looking beyond Rizzo and caught the subtlest of movements on the trunk of the tree that the arachnophobic man had been leaning on earlier. "He's on the tree," he gestured to the tree and they followed with their eyes, taking a moment to spot the spider clinging to the bark effortlessly.
"I knew it!" Bruce finally said in relief and moved forward to retrieve the wayward Wallace once more. Vin had his jacket and boots on and was shutting up the back of the car when they finally composed themselves.
Rizzo had managed to get his pants back up and sent Bruce to put away his pet before he really did squash the thing with a well placed boot heel, when Cheese turned to Vin.
"We're goin' into the city," he informed him, "we've got a little surprise for you, but first Ivan's gotta get some parts for his pig –"
"Ye mean hog," Ivan corrected.
"He means pig," Rizzo said, none of them having ever been impressed with Ivan's ancient bike, always in need of repairs as it was. "Thought we'd spend the night at the bar and head back here tomorrow," he told Vin.
Vin was still stuck on the surprise part. "Reckon I've had enough surprises fer today. What've you fella's got in mind?"
But Rizzo just grinned and slapped him on the back. "Let's just say, the law in this town is gonna get some payback for messin' with our brothers."
That got Vin's attention. "Wouldn't mind a little payback... still like to be in on it though." He said with interest he did not need to feign. He'd thought they would wait until the funeral, he should have anticipated they would want their own retribution for Keg's death.
"But then," Cheese said with enthusiasm, "it wouldn't be a surprise now would it?"
Surprises, in Vin's experience, were rarely a good thing. "I thought Jake had somethin' in mind fer later, somethin' big. Maybe after the funeral."
"Maybe, but it was our boys that got taken down, not his."
Cheese frowned at Vin's hesitation. "We thought you'd want to do somethin' – for Keg at least."
He kept his voice even. "I do." He cursed then, showing them how much Keg's death was bothering him. "I dunno, it's just the way it went down... I hate cops as much as anyone but they wouldn't've done anythin' if it hadn't been fer Decker coming down on 'em first."
"They still came down on us, whatever the reason. They gotta pay." Rizzo declared.
Vin looked at their faces. They wanted retribution for their fallen friend and nothing was going to deter them. He knew they would want revenge, he should have anticipated this, but he had thought they would take it at the funeral, not before.
"So what's the plan?" he prompted again.
Ivan laughed. "Dinnae worry, yer gonna love it."
"Mornin' boys!"
They all turned as Charlie approached them from the direction of the building, looking like he'd slept in a feather bed the whole night through.
"You too good to bunk outside like the rest of us?" Bruce asked, returning from securing the disturbed Wallace.
Charlie merely grinned as he stretched his back. "No offence fella's, but the bed I found last night had somethin' a lot better than you ugly bastards in it."
Vin's eyes narrowed slightly at Charlie. There was something off about his too-jovial tone. In all the time he'd known him, he'd been nice enough, but shrewd above all else and never this openly friendly. He watched as the big man turned his eyes to him.
"Ran inta Jake on the way out, he wants ta talk ta ya."
Vin's eye's narrowed even more and his head shifted slightly to the side.
"Hell, don't ask me, I'm jist the messenger," Charlie said, putting up his hands at the look Vin was giving him.
They all looked at Vin, their faces serious and Vin shrugged. "Prob'ly somethin' ta do with the shootin'." He looked over to the massive building.
Bruce slapped him on the back to show his support. "We'll ride out when yer done."
"He's in Billy's study, to the left when you walk in," Charlie called to him as he walked away.
Vin turned and they all noticed the narrowing of his eyes as he looked at Charlie.
"Ya seem ta know the layout of the place pretty good." It was bordering on an accusation and Vin knew Charlie should react with anger, so when he didn't, his suspicion was only raised further.
"Been here a few times now."
Seeing Vin's dark look, the rest of the boys all looked at Charlie, just as he wanted them to. There was something going on with him that he wanted them to look out for. He nodded after a moment and walked away, leaving them to contemplate the undercurrents of the exchange.
Once inside he closed the large doors as he'd found them and turned to the left, heading down a wide, terracotta tiled hallway until he came to a massive wooden door on the right. There was a man posted outside that Vin had never seen before.
"I'm here to see Jake," he told him as he was weighed up with a hard look.
"Wait here."
He watched while the man knocked and waited until a voice bid him to enter before turning the handle and giving the door a shove.
"Turner's here."
Was there anyone who didn't know who he was?
"Send him in."
The guard came back out and nodded. "You can go in."
Vin's lip pulled up at the man who took himself way too seriously and went inside the still open door, immediately seeing Jake at the large wooden desk, smoking a cigarette.
"Come in."
Vin studied Jake's face as he entered, taking the seat opposite the desk.
In return Jake studied the younger man for a second time, but now his look was more contemplative. Billy had tracked him down late last night and told him his plan to use Turner to deal with Bale and he had been more than surprised. Apparently they had run into each other upstairs and instead of killing the guy for being on his private floor, his old friend had seemed to take a liking to him.
"Let's see him earn his keep," was all Billy had said when he'd questioned him.
But he knew there was more to it. There was something about Turner that had caught his eye. "I can take care of Bale," he'd told him.
Billy had given him a surprisingly warm smile. "You've been takin' care of that kinda thing for far too long, my friend. It's time you learned how to delegate."
"So this isn't about pissin' Sugar off?"
Billy's grin only grew. " Partly..." he'd admitted. "And partly because the kid's got potential. I see somethin' in him... somethin' the club hasn't had since the old days."
Now as Jake looked at the kid in person, really looked at him, he realised what it was that Billy saw... himself. He had the same world-weary, hungry look about him that Billy used to have in the old days. The same fierce
determination in his eyes that had made sure nobody stood in the way of what he wanted. And he'd gone right along with him for the ride.
"Well?" Vin said, impatient at the long, contemplative stare he was getting.
Jake smiled at his arrogance, thinking perhaps Billy had been right. He stubbed out his cigarette and took out
another, pushing the packet across the table in silent question.
Vin shook his head, waiting as the red-haired man lit his cigarette and took a deep drag, slowly blowing out more smoke into the already hazy room.
"We got a problem with a guy that runs our warehouse in the city. John Bale. We've got a shipment to move out before the funeral and he's starting to become a problem. He panics," he said with a shake of his head. "Billy wants you to talk to him for us, make sure it gets moved tonight."
Vin's eyes narrowed. There were enough soldiers around to take care of that sort of thing. Seeing his look Jake shook his head.
"Not that kind of a message. You just gotta reason with him. Tell him if he doesn't move that shipment we're all in the shit, including him. Rattle him a little. We don't want him unable to do his job."
"Why me?" He was genuinely curious.
Jake just shrugged. "It's what Billy wants."
Vin shook his head, but could see that was all the explanation he was going to get. He was being tested. Something had happened between himself and Billy last night that had made the President take notice. He hadn't intended it that way, but it was exactly what he wanted. This was his shot at getting in with Billy. If he could impress him on this task he could get even closer.
"Alright," he said slowly. "I's plannin' a ride out with some boys anyway. Mind if they tag along?" He didn't want to be alone on this.
"I got no problem with that, they already told me they want to set up a surprise for you. Just make sure they don't interfere with anyone. We got a professional relationship with the men down there, there's a shit-load of security that we contract to look after the place. We don't need to start anythin' with them, so keep your boys in line. Just meet with Bale, make sure he's gonna get the job done and you're done."
Vin nodded, sounded simple enough. But long experience told him it never was. "So, where do I find this place?"
Jake grinned, pulling out the directions he'd prepared. He looked forward to seeing how the kid handled it. Bale was a pain in the ass to deal with.
A short while later, Vin found the boys waiting for him around their bikes. He purposefully hadn't sought out Sugar, instinctively knowing that he'd try to stop him from going. For as far as the man had gotten him through the ranks of the club he knew he had to step out from behind him if he was going to get any further.
"Got a job to do for Billy," he said casually, busying himself in his saddle bag to avoid their questioning glances.
Bruce spoke up first. "And he asked you because..?"
Vin tried to shrug it off, but sighed and turned to face them, showing them he was as confused as they were. "Hell if I know. He wants me ta speak with some guy that runs their warehouse here that's been givin' 'em grief."
"He's testin' you out," Rizzo said with a frown.
"Aye, but why?" Ivan said, the shake of his head showing he didn't like it.
"I reckon he jist wants ta piss off Sugar," Vin said, trying to play it down. "He gets some Texas boys involved in his dirty-work an' Sugar'll be spittin' nails."
"An' that doesn't worry you?" Bruce asked him with his eyebrows raised. It bothered him. He sure as hell didn't want to piss the man off.
But Vin just shrugged again. "Hell, I'm goin' that direction anyways, I might as well check things out. Wouldn't mind seein' what they're up to."
Rizzo grinned. "I heard they're makin' some really good shit up here. Maybe I can get some samples ta take back home."
Vin shook his head. "I ain't askin you fella's ta get involved in this. I'll take care'a it tonight." But, as he knew they would, they protested.
"You ain't goin' out there alone. I don't trust these pricks. For all you know Billy could be settin' you up for what they think happened at that shootin'. If they really think you ran out on those boys, they might just take you out for it," Bruce told him seriously.
Ivan smacked him on the back as he passed him, heading for his bike. "Aye, you'll be needin' us at yer back if the shit hits the fan."
Cheese just grinned, happy to help Vin out. You backed your brothers.
Vin watched them walk away, his face clouded with thought. For a moment there, before he'd met with Jake, he'd been caught up in their carefree laughter, almost forgetting where he was, but they obviously hadn't. This was real to them. Their hearts truly were in the brotherhood, thinking always of their part in the club, whereas he was just pretending to be a part of it - and never actually would be. They didn't want to do Billy's bidding, he could understand that and he felt bad for dragging them into it. They didn't know about his hidden agenda to work his way into the man's circle. With a sigh his face turned upward, seeming to find its own way up toward the front of the building and from there his eyes scanned the top floor. He knew that somewhere, in one of those rooms, was his father.
Another sigh left him as he followed to the bikes, Ivan cursing his sluggish ignition and Cheese, Bruce and Rizzo already warming up their deafening motors in the quiet morning air. Finally he sat on his own bike and started the motor, both pistons firing into instant action at the command of his thumb on the switch with his exhaust sending an instant plume of fog into the moist morning air, the noise cutting out all chance of speech now for long miles into the city. Whatever it was they were heading towards, he needed to get word to Larabee and he needed to do it fast if he was going to try and control whatever trouble the guys were planning on their visit. Knowing them, they wouldn't do it small. He had a lot to talk to him about.
An hour and a half later, Vin pulled up and parked on the end of the row they had created outside a roadhouse, only a stones throw from the highway exit into the city. There were no other bikes or cars in sight.
"Fuck it's freezin' up here. I can't feel my legs," Rizzo complained as he got off his bike and stretched his legs. He had been the one to speed up and take the turnoff to the roadhouse, his need for food overriding his need to get into the city.
"You ain't wrong. My ass's gone numb," Bruce complained, easing his stocky frame from his bike.
"You should change your plates to `Assman'."
"Jesus Christ, don't start on that again," Cheese begged, already heading to the front glass doors. His normal jovial demeanour was tempered by his own need for food and he was in no mood for their exchange.
Vin was the last to enter the building, finding that his knee had cramped up on the long ride and he needed to stretch it out when he stood up. Since he had damaged it again outside the club fighting Decker, it had seemed to be holding up ok under the careful strapping it had been given in the hospital, but now it was stiff and sore from inaction and the bent position it had rested in on the foot peg, never having needed to touch the back break on the straight run of the highway.
As he moved he realised just how sore the rest of this body was and that his side was flaring with a low heat. He wished he'd brought the antibiotics with him that were in the front seat of Sugar's car, but it was too late for that now. His hand found his cell phone, resting in the pocket of his jacket, and a renewed sense of urgency hit him. His need to speak to Larabee had been dogging him since the night before. It would have to wait though, right now there was nowhere private that he could make the call.
The roadhouse was much larger than it looked, sitting all alone as it was on a torn patch of land. There were no trees or other buildings to size it against and so he had been deceived by its initial appearance. As he entered he realised it was a place that must see a lot of activity from the bikers riding in and out of the
clubhouse. A long, empty food counter ran the entire length of the room and through a large square cut in the wall behind it he could see through to the other side of the building where a long bar was surrounded by pool tables and a few pinball machines. Up against the glass facing outside to their bikes were several booths, all upholstered in a bright shade of orange vinyl, all also empty.
He found the boys at the counter, firing off their orders to an elderly lady who looked undeterred by the type of patronage surrounding her small frame as he walked up beside them. After a moment of writing in her pad the woman's surprisingly sharp eyes looked up and gazed at the newcomer.
"And what'll you have, honey?"
Vin was unnerved as her eyes focused directly on him. In her face was something familiar, yet long forgotten. He quickly grabbed the menu out of Cheese's hands to cover his reaction.
"I… uh… will have... the... hot breakfast." He placed the menu on the counter and his eyes were drawn back to her. "Thank you ma'am."
Nettie Wells was taken aback by the politeness in the young man's clear blue eyes as he thanked her and handed over his menu. He was a scruffy one, to be sure, but there was something in his face that did not seem to fit his rough image, and it wasn't the dark patches of bruising or the cut above his eye either.
"You're most welcome son," she said sincerely.
They took a seat at the booth by the door, the only noise for the moment coming from the small television set above the counter.
"So, ya gonna tell me what ya'll got planned, or do I just tag along fer the ride the whole way?" Vin asked again.
"We're going to get Ivan's pig –"
" Hog ye wee fucker!"
"- Looked at first, then I gotta go buy somethin' for my old ladies birthday," Bruce informed him.
Rizzo nudged Cheese with a grin. "You gonna buy somethin' for your Mrs too? Or don't cousin's have to do that kinda thing on birthdays."
"For the last time, she's not my real cousin, so back off!" Cheese had had enough of the taunting. He'd met and married his wife on a drunken weekend in Vegas, only to have to renew his vows for his mum's
satisfaction when he got back to Texas. It was at the church that their mothers both finally met and to his total shock, knew each other. His mother had shouted out `Oh my God Kevin, it's your Aunt Sheila!' and that was it, his best men had never let up since.
As it turned out his new mother in law, Sheila, was an old friend of his mothers and one he did not recall from his childhood, but apparently had called `Aunt' when he was a little kid. The fact that she was not really an aunt had never stopped Rizzo though, or the shock that had reverberated around the church.
They continued to bait each other as they waited for their food, while Vin sat half listening to them, frustrated with not getting an answer out of them and starting to feel a little under the weather, with one ear tuned to the morning news that had started on the television. He could just hear the voice of the newsreader as he started through the news of the day.
Finally their food came and it was just as the old woman was setting down a plate in front of him that a familiar face filled the screen and his breath caught. The men were too busy hoe'ing into their plates to notice, but Nettie did. She met his expression and silently went to the counter, casually turning up the volume and moving back to the kitchen. Vin strained to hear the words that accompanied the images.
"… A former US Army Captain, Benning has denied the allegations, having this to say at the press conference this morning:
`I have never in my entire career, as an employee of our government, taken a bribe from any person, or acted in a manner which may be considered unlawful. These fraudulent pictures are just that, and time will show that I speak the truth. As cases before me have shown, this is a tactic that is employed by criminals when they wish to discredit the police and get them off their back by drawing the public's criticism towards them.'
He looked directly into the camera then and Vin saw the rage that the man was struggling to hold in check.
'But even if they manage to put an end to my career, they are still going to be taken down, if not by me, than by my successors. This will not end with me,' he promised.
Vin was so shocked that he was finding it hard to cover his reaction by taking a large gulp of his coffee and
shovelling in a forkful of scrambled eggs, dipping his head toward the table as he listened.
"ATF Director Orin Travis was quick to defend the head of his Denver department, saying that the allegations were preposterous against a man with such a sterling and unmarked reputation for upholding the law. He has asked that the public be aware of ploys, which use the media to serve the interests of criminals and syndicate leaders. He made no comment, however, on the extensive number of photographs which were published of Benning earlier today, showing him in incriminating scenarios with known criminals, partaking in illegal betting, as well as linking him with prostitution."
"Well look at that, he even looks dirty, don't he?" Rizzo said, eyeing the screen having heard the tail end of the story.
"They're all dirty," Cheese said around a mouthful of food.
Vin's heart was pounding. What the hell was going on? Wilson Benning, a dirty cop? He didn't know the man and from what he'd seen in this town so far, Billy's fingers certainly reached far. But if that was true, where did that leave the rest of the team? Or was this the first step in Billy getting the ATF team to back off? Suddenly the need to call Larabee became both paramount and worrisome. They needed to know that the club might have set Benning up but on the other hand, if Benning was dirty, what the hell did that make his new Captain? Weren't they good friends? Wasn't the team put together by Benning in the first place and Larabee hand picked by him? How the hell had things gotten so complicated... For the first time since he had signed the papers Josiah had given him he was doubting his decision to transfer to the ATF.
He slid out from the confines of the table and headed for the toilet sign at the end of the long counter, unable to stop the slight limp that marked his walk.
"Where you goin' in such a hurry?" Bruce called out to his back, but Cheese was laughing.
"I get that way with my morning coffee, no warning, it just hits you!"
Bruce swore. "Yeah but I was about to go, now I gotta go in there after him and he didn't look too good."
Vin rounded the counter and spotted the men's room, quickly making his way inside and heading straight to the cold water tap, ignoring the flickering of the blue fluorescent light above him as he leant forward and splashed the reviving liquid onto the heat of his face. Lingering a moment more he placed his hands on the sink and looked up into the mirror, watching as the unsteady light flashed shadows across his skin. He became lost in it's offbeat rhythm, which lit the white of his eyes with an eerie glow, staring for a long minute as his mind spun in different directions.
The boys were planning that surprise for him, either today or the next and he was the only one who might be able to stop them by getting in touch with his team, only his team was in chaos and was being splashed across the morning news. There was only one way to get the answers he needed, he needed to speak to Larabee. Somehow, he had to speak with his boss before they did anything and find out what the hell was going on. A text message wasn't going to cover it, he needed an actual conversation.