Part 16. Politics and Pandemonium
Chris sat, unmoving, his back starting to feel the pressure of inactivity after the long minutes he had held still, waiting for Buck to stop his pacing around his office. Finally, after countless seconds, the tall man whirled to face him, outrage pouring from his face.
"God dammit Chris, you should have called me!"
"It wouldn't have achieved anything," Chris said wearily, rubbing his neck and leaning back in his chair to look up at his irate friend.
"It's beside the point! I've known him as long as you have, I had a right to know first! Dammit the whole city knew before I did!"
"Calm down. At least one of us had a good night's sleep."
Buck closed his mouth for a second and finally took in Chris's appearance. He really did look like he hadn't slept in a week. With that knowledge he sat heavily on the chair facing the desk with a loud sigh.
"He's innocent, we both know that." He stopped suddenly and his eyes narrowed at Chris's blank expression. "Don't we?"
Chris avoided Buck's gaze, instead absently rubbing at the bandage around his arm and suddenly the tall man was on his feet again, defending the man who had been like a father to him in the army, albeit a hard one. "Benning's as loyal as they come. The man's dedicated his life to his country. There's no way he did any of this shit they're trying to pin on him and you know it!"
Chris kept his voice calm. "It's not my place to pass judgement right now, Buck. What we need to do is concentrate on the team. Until this – "
"Not your place?! He needs to know we're behind him on this!" His voice lowered as he leant forward. "Are you forgetting everything that man's done for you?"
Chris's jaw hardened. "No. But right now, I'm trying to look at the bigger picture. This is beyond one man. Benning knows how it works and he's got Travis behind him." He looked at Buck, trying to get him to see the repercussions of the morning's news. After visiting Benning at his house, he and Ezra had taken him to wake up Orin Travis, where they'd had a lengthy discussion on how they were going to handle the situation. Travis had agreed that both he and the department would back Wilson one hundred percent, but what they really needed was something to respond with. Something concrete and hard hitting that they could come back with against the bikers to get them off the attack and into defence mode.
"I need you to focus Buck. Bennings' been around long enough to know how the game's played, but he's relying on us right now to get the spotlight off him. If you really want to help him you'll work with me to do that. We need to come down on that club. We need something to bring them to heel and we need to do it now or the media are going to eat us alive."
"Fuck the media, they're a pack of lying bastards anyway. They've got too much damn power – and the public just buys into whatever bullshit they're selling."
Chris sighed. "Yeah, well trick is to get your story to market first. They don't care who's making the news so long as it's good enough to make the headlines. I hate politics as much as you but Orin's right on this, we need to start playing the game as good as them or we're going to lose. Truth and justice don't always win out in the end, it's votes that keep politicians in power and it's the politicians that decide whether or not we stay in the game. We need to start telling our story louder than they are."
"We don't have a damn story."
"That didn't stop them from making one up about Benning."
Buck cursed again, but got to his feet. "Whatever happened to the days where you just went and shot the bad guys?"
Chris smiled at that. "The bad guys got lawyers."
Buck smiled in return, feeling a little of the tension leave his body. "Alright then, we do this your way."
"It's not my way. Believe me, I'd rather just shoot them all and be done with it."
"Alright then. Let's go get those vultures some real dirt to chew on." He thought for a second. "You'd think having a man on the inside would give us something here."
Chris watched Buck leave, his brow drawing together at the passing shot at Vin, before he followed him out the door to find more coffee. He met with Ezra before he'd taken three steps, the man looking like he needed to speak, urgently.
"You'll have to talk as we walk Ezra, I need coffee," he told him, heading toward the break room. He turned his head to look behind him as a thought occurred to him. "And where the fuck have you been? I've been looking for you for hours. You can't just take off and not tell anyone where you're going, you're meant to be part of a team now, Standish. I expect –"
Ezra listened as his Captain continued to vent the entire way to the kitchen, but knew his news would soon have him thinking in another direction.
In the small kitchen down the hall Chris poured a cup of strong brew, still stressing to Ezra the importance of
teamwork as he finally leant against the counter and stopped to note his agent's expression. "Start talking."
"I met with Vlahov at the club." Seeing Chris's anger flash dangerously he went on quickly. "He's the one that sent us the photo's."
The blonde man's face was rigid and it was then that Ezra saw just how angry his Captain could get. His voice was a harsh sound and his eyes told him loudly that he was in serious trouble. "Back to my office," was all he said before marching out of the room and heading back down the hallway.
Back at Chris's office they found JD waiting to enter with a newspaper in his hand. Chris directed Ezra to move in and looked at JD. "Is it important?"
"Well… kind of, it's –"
"Then it can wait." He closed the door on the flustered agent and headed for his desk.
"Start talking, Ezra, for everyone's sake."
Ezra chose his words. "I wanted to see what he knew about the photos and I was right, he sent them."
"I don't give a fuck about the photo's right now, Standish. I gave you an order to back off and you went out of your way to ignore it. You're lucky I didn't pull you right off the case and you couldn't even show me the respect I deserve by holding back a few days?" He bit off his next curse. What was the point? Obviously Ezra was too strong headed to head any warnings.
For his part, Ezra waited a moment for his leader to take the information in, knowing that Chris Larabee was not one to make rash decisions. After a moment of silent contemplation Chris stood up and came around his desk.
"Do you, for just one second, understand the risk you took in going there, let alone by yourself? I'm supposed to be the leader of a team of professional agents, not a mismatched bunch of renegades who are only out looking after their own interests. What if they'd been on to him? What if they had been waiting for you just to kill you on the spot? You had a direct order to stay away and you still went there! And against my specific orders not to?! You deserve to be dead, do you know that? Give me a good reason why I shouldn't send you packing for pulling a stunt like that. You could have lost more than your cover, doesn't that bother you?! The fact that you weren't killed is a minor miracle, and don't tell me it was worth it because no man's life is worth throwing it away over some useless information you would have discovered soon enough anyway!"
Outside Chris's office Josiah, Buck, Nathan and JD all looked at each other. When Chris had turned JD away
from the door they'd known there was going to be trouble, but apart from Buck, this was the first time any of them had heard Chris truly angry. In fact none of them, with the possibility of Buck, had ever heard that many words come out of his mouth in the one hit, the sound of his voice gaining volume with each word until he had shouted the last sentence.
But Ezra hadn't finished his story and quietly interjected, hoping that the rest of his information would prove to Larabee that the risk had been worth the gain. "Mitri also told me about a shipment coming in across the state tonight. His own men are supposed to help collect the goods and hold on to it while the rest is run further south. Based on the last two monthly shipments, we're looking at around one hundred thousand MDMA tablets, a good size haul of methamphetamine and several hundred pounds of marijuana... to start with."
Chris's hearing seemed to sharpen to unnatural proportions. He could hear a phone ringing from what he thought must have been another building. This was exactly what they needed to help build their case against the club. A bust like this was just what he and Buck had been talking about and Ezra was handing it right to him the moment they needed it.
"He told you this? After all of these months working with him without him so much as giving you a bite, he comes out and tells you about a major haul like this? And a regular one at that?"
"He only just found out. I've told you before in my reports that I suspected he was holding his own shipments in the club's underground cellar. At the beginning of each month he has given me three days off in succession and told me not to come in. I think he wants to unload whatever his own goods are and it has co-incided with a shipment the club wants to move out and he wants them out of his way."
Seeing Chris's expression at that news Ezra shrugged. "I never said the man wasn't self-serving." They had always known he had his own criminal agenda, but he was a tool that they needed for the time being. He stood up. "I know how this looks, I can see this from your perspective, but I'm not some rookie who doesn't understand his job. I've been doin' this long enough to know whether someone is playin' me. Sometimes life just throws you a good hand and if you don't take it you might not get a chance like it again. I know this man, I've spent months dealing with him. He wants to take the bikers down. He may very well be doing it because he's motivated by his own self-servin' ambitions, but he wants them out of the picture and he's goin' to try and do it with or without us. I think we can profit from this – and we'd be foolish to ignore a lead, whatever the source." He calmed himself a little. "I've learned to trust my instincts about people and they haven't let me down before."
Chris sighed and shook his head at Ezra's passion - and at the challenge he saw in the southerners eyes that dared him to say he didn't trust his instincts, even if Ezra did.
"I'm never one to rule out instinct, Ezra, but this is your life you're playing with. This isn't about Mitri and his hidden agenda or even whether we can trust him or not. I know you can handle yourself, that's what I pay you for. What I don't pay you for is to ignore my orders, that's what this is about, do you understand that? I won't accept anything less from you and if you aren't willing to play this my way then you'll be playing it alone."
Ezra looked at Larabee and knew he meant it, he really would pull him off the team. "Alright. You have my word, I won't go off again without notifying you."
Chris studied Ezra's eyes and gave his head a little shake. Ezra had given himself a big loophole there. He didn't know if he believed him. But he was willing to give him the chance. He shoved the matter aside for the time being, needing to focus on the bigger picture.
"We need to contact the DEA, find out their position on this and we need to consult with their operations. I'm going to inform Travis and Murphy and get them on board and by the time I'm done doing that I want you back in here with everything you have about this shipment coming in. There's going to be more backup than a world trade meeting on this and I want the whole team brought up to speed before we take it anywhere else. We clear on that?"
Ezra gave a short nod and stood, wanting to tell Chris that he appreciated his having faith in him only to be
interrupted by a nervous JD filling the open space behind him and used the distraction to take his leave.
"JD, I need you to look into some transport movements for me…" He looked up when JD didn't immediately respond and noticed the younger man's anxious expression. "What is it?"
"Ah… I didn't want to disturb you… but I thought you should see the morning paper..."
Chris frowned with impatience as the young agent hesitated. "Well bring it in."
JD moved in and handed over a late edition newspaper, thinking he should have just left it on his desk and been done with it as he watched his boss scan the front cover, seeing his scowl deepen as he read the headline. There was a red tinge flaming his cheeks as he took in the massive front photo of Levitz at a press conference with a smaller photo of Benning below him, the headline reading `Denver Needs No Secret Police!'
Looking up at JD after a long moment, Chris shook his head in disbelief. "I don't believe this guy."
..
Confessions of a Kerbside Biker
Vin let out a deep breath, but continued to feel the tension in his stomach as he opened the door and headed back out into the more natural light of the diner. He was determined now to get some answers to the questions that had started to pile up around him. Foremost on his mind was finding out what they had planned as his 'surprise' and then he needed to find out what the deal was with Benning and Larabee.
Refreshed from the simple act of washing his face, he made his way back around to the counter just in time to see the glass doors open and three men enter all wearing cheap, matching dark suits.
"You're early." He heard the old lady say as she pulled her small frame up to its full, unimpressive height, her tone anything but friendly as she squared off with the newcomers from behind the counter.
"Now now Mrs Wells, is that any way to greet a friend?"
Nettie shot him a look of disgust. "You're a lot of things, Guy Royal, but friend ain't one of `em."
A flash of anger crossed Royal's face and he stepped closer and leant on the counter, his frame threatening as his height towered over the frail-looking woman. He was apparently not concerned by the three rough men sitting behind him at the booth, finishing their breakfasts.
"I'll let that go, seeing's how you're about to make me some of that fine coffee of yours… but you open that mouth of yours again to me like that and I'll take my money and burn this place down before I leave. You got that?"
Nettie said nothing, only turned her back on him as she headed for the coffee pot.
Vin didn't know what the hell was going on, but he knew that he didn't like the tone the man had used with the old woman. Looking at the rest of the boys as he approached, he could see that they were not concerned enough to move. He did know, however, that they would back him up, no matter what their opinion of the situation was.
"There a problem here?" He asked, walking up close to the newcomers and leaning casually on the counter.
Royal turned his attention to Vin, studying him a moment before turning around and noticing the remaining men as if for the first time. Still, he did not seem concerned by them, which Vin considered to be either odd, stupid or both on the man's part.
"Nothing that concerns you," the older man said dismissively and turned back to the counter as Nettie served the coffee.
Vin saw that her hand was shaking slightly, whether from anger or fear he could not be sure and slowly turned to face the three men, one lean hip resting against the wooden counter. Hooking a casual thumb through his belt he looked settled, showing the men that he had no intention of minding his own business.
"Sure looks like there's a problem," he said, his eyes staying on Royal, apparently the ring leader of this little group of small-time criminals.
Nettie looked up and it was then Vin saw that it was definite anger in her face, which overrode her fear.
Suddenly Royal was all smiles. "There's no problem here. The businesses around here, they love me. They give me gifts."
"Just before ya drive 'em outta business."
At that Royal's eyes narrowed, but his smile stayed in place as he stepped toward Vin, his hand outstretched in greeting. "I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met. I'm Guy Royal."
Vin's own hand stayed by his side as he eyed the proffered hand but did not take it.
Royal's smile faltered before it was put back in place. "Obviously you boys are from out of town, am I right?"
Vin's only answer was a cold glare and turning to the other men, Royal saw the same steely expressions on their faces, their food forgotten. They were ready to back Vin up at the slightest move, not liking any man who wore a suit, let alone these guys.
"Well then, you probably wouldn't know that I have an agreement with your club. I've been in charge of the territory this land falls on since before your club moved in. This is my land. Billy and I have an understanding that my cut of profits is not to be disturbed. Not here, nor at any other business in my territory."
Vin's eyes narrowed as he looked at Nettie, seeing the outrage heighten in her frame. He would bet that she was contemplating launching herself at the man's throat, despite her obvious disadvantage in size and that almost brought a smile to his face.
Royal continued, slightly unnerved by the silent judgement he saw reflected in the long-haired biker's eyes and his voice showed his anger. "You have a problem with that you better take it up with your boss. In here, whatever I want is mine." With that he reached out and lifted his coffee cup to his lips to demonstrate his point, returning the cup to the bench a little too forcefully, betraying his agitated state.
Vin's brow raised a little and a grin lit his lips. Faster than anyone anticipated he moved his hand up to the counter, causing them all to flinch and move back in response. All he did, however, was reach over and take the closest cup of coffee that sat untouched before the man beside him. He too, brought it to his lips in a parody of Royal's actions, taking a slow sip and giving the man an infuriating wink filled with pure cockiness. Finally, he put down the cup, with demonstrated calm and precision.
"Well then, we definitely have a problem," he told them, "Cos I've decided this place ain't on yer list'a friends no more."
Royal looked from Vin and turned to the remaining men who had suddenly stood up behind him.
"Now look. I've been dealing in this town since before you could walk and when you leave I'll still be running things, so you best just take yourselves back to your camp and talk this over with your boss. He'll tell you to back well away from this." He turned to Nettie, as if the point was closed. "Now just give me the cash you owe me and we'll be on our way."
Nettie moved toward the cash drawer, but a quickly shot hand around her wrist from Vin stopped her from opening it. He shook his head slightly and she pulled her hand back, seeing the determined glint in his blue eyes as his soft voice spoke with menacing order.
"Ya ain't givin' this scum another cent, ma'am, ya just go on about yer business an' let us deal with sendin' the trash on its way."
Royal was fuming. "You don't need this kind of trouble," he warned, finally taking a good look at Vin and committing his face to memory. "I'm telling you one last time to back the hell away before you realise what you've walked into. Nobody crosses me, not even you people." This last he said with a derisive look that encompassed them all. "Curly, get our money, we're leavin'."
Standing closest to Vin, Curly looked first at the steely blue eyes boring over his shoulder before pushing his stool back and standing up.
"Try an' take that money an' I guarantee ya barely live ta regret it."
It was the quiet, softly spoken promise that stopped Curly in his tracks and he looked at his boss for some sort of reprieve.
"God dammit, I said get the money!" Royal was nearing the end of his control, seeing his own men baulk under the command of this dirty lowlife almost undid him.
Vin just stared Curly in the eye until the man was beyond speech.
"Damn you to hell, Curly, I'll get it myself."
Royal turned and ran smack into Ivan's chest.
"Have ye not goat a home tae go tae?" He nodded to the door.
Royal spun and turned to Vin again, but then a sudden change came over him and an evil smile lit his mean face.
"Alright, son. Have it your way for now. But hear this, you might walk away from this today, but I'll be seein' you real soon. And it's not only me you'll be dealin' with, your boss sure ain't gonna like it when I tell him how you disobeyed his orders."
Vin merely smiled in return, his lip curled as if he found the confrontation amusing. "Best ya be on yer way now," he said with a definite lift of his chin toward the door.
"While you can still walk." Cheese added, and received a thump in the shoulder from Bruce in return for his lame threat. " What?" he said, exaggeratedly rubbing his shoulder.
Ivan moved aside and Royal and his men headed toward the door, the older man stopping and turning again before they left. He pointed a finger at Nettie. "You'll pay for this," he promised her before taking another step back toward the door, his finger re-aiming at Vin. "This is my damn territory, boy."
Vin's eyes glared back across the distance. "Ours too."
With that Royal's face gave a final scowl before turning his back to them all and taking his leave, his two lackeys following him out the door.
After a moment Nettie let out the breath she'd been holding, turning her sharp gaze on Vin.
"Well, I appreciate you takin' up my cause like that son, but he's right. You're boss does know about it, and he won't like you disobeying his orders like that."
"What orders? We're from out of town, we didn't know any better," Bruce grinned, flipping money on the counter to cover their meal.
"Yeah, we bikers ain't the smartest fellow's don't ya know?" Cheese grinned.
"Comin' from you, that ain't funny. While you can still walk... and people wonder why you're called Cheese. Those cheesy, lame-ass lines hurt to listen to."
"I thought he got his name that time he got the clap back in school so bad the doc said they should just burn it off and be done with it," Rizzo said as they moved toward the door.
They argued their way out the door, leaving Vin to stand at the counter alone for a moment. Nettie enclosed a weathered hand over the sleeve of Vin's jacket, nodding once, sincerity shining in her eyes along with a keen wisdom.
"Thank you..."
"Vin," he supplied for her, before motioning as if tipping his hat to her. "And any time, ma'am."
"I ain't used to gentlemanly behaviour."
He pushed off the counter with his hip. "Ah hell, I ain't no gentleman. I think a woman of your courage deserves a little backin' up."
And then he grinned, and the transformation of his face caused her to hold her breath. Bruises be damned he was a handsome one.
"Well I'm indebted to ya." She nodded toward the back of the shop. "I live just out the back there, you need anythin' when you're out this way again you just let me know."
He gave only a short nod, but there was gratitude in his eyes before he turned and headed for the door. Watching him leave, she had the distinct impression that it would not be the last she saw of him. He turned at the door.
"Ya best take care now, he'll be back, sooner or later."
She nodded and to his surprise raised a rifle up above the counter. "I'll be ready."
Vin laughed, a natural sound that left his lips in a husky expulsion of air as he saw the new Italian made gun,
modelled after the infamous Spencer Carbine. Somehow the gun suited her and he saw that she handled the
weapon with startling ease.
"I bet ya will."
Again Nettie followed his back as he left, remembering the sound of the laugh he had given as she watched him favour his right leg as he headed out the door. She would bet that laughing wasn't something the boy did easily and as she put her treasured rifle back under the counter, she realised she felt strangely happy to have brought it about.
Outside Vin swung a leg over his bike and reached for the ignition, stopped by Rizzo before he could start his engine.
"Any more old ladies you wanna save `fore we head into town?"
"Perhaps there's some lost animals need a home, some orphaned kids…" Bruce added, settling into his own seat.
"Ye never said ye had such a sweet spot fir auld things."
Vin looked at Ivan and then gestured to his bike, deflecting the attention from himself neatly. "She's younger'n that neglected piece a' shit ya ride. Fifty says it don't make it ta the city."
Ivan puffed out his chest. "That's ootay order." Then he stuck out a hand and they shook on the bet. "You'll be eatin' those words," he promised as everyone's engines, bar his, roared to life once more. Holding his ignition down he cursed, watching the back of Vin's bike as it left him behind and muttering, "Wise bastard," as he finally took off.
An hour later and Vin was standing on the side of the main highway exit to the city, happy with the fifty dollar note that now sat in his back pocket while the Scotsman-come-Texan scowled, tools spread out on the ground where he knelt before his bike, trying not to burn himself as he fiddled with various hoses and parts trying to eliminate the cause of his failing engine.
It had been funny for a little while as they'd all ribbed Ivan over his machine's demise, but now they were all getting testy from standing in the cold on the side of the road while the morning stretched towards noon without gaining any warmth. Any second it was going to pour down with rain and Vin knew it wouldn't take much to tip their anger over the edge. Finally, it was three innocent words from Cheese that set them all off.
"It's gonna rain."
Bruce took one look at his friend's arms, held out as if to judge the precipitation level and exploded. "Fucking
weather genius!" He turned on him and pointed wildly to the menacing sky. "What gave it away, was it the big fuckin' black bad-ass clouds hangin' right over our heads? Or the fact that it hasn't stopped raining since we set foot in this miserable fucking city?!"
Cheese looked genuinely shocked that his words had provoked such an outburst and looked at the other guys as if to say 'what's up his ass?'
"I ain't sittin' here waitin' on this pig." Rizzo said, kicking a boot out to the tyre of Ivan's lifeless ride as the first
tentative drop fell from the sky.
Ivan held his wrench up at Rizzo in response, his temper mounting. "Go oan, do it! Kick it again! Ahhh dare ya!"
Rizzo grinned suddenly at the childish taunt and cocked his head to the side as he looked down at the big Scotsman, mustering up a poor accent to deliver his words with. "Aye, but do ye double dare me?"
Ivan scowled, pushing himself off the ground and waving his wrench around like a knife. "Ah'll physical-fuckin' challenge ye in a minute ye stupid git! Ah'm fuckin' well fed up wi yer shite. Ah'll shove this wrench so far up yer arse that ah'll pluck those fuckin' hairy eyebrows of yers from the roots."
"We could just call for a tow…?" Cheese said hesitantly. Calling for a tow was a final resort, he knew. One of the first tests a probate had to pass in joining the club was to pull apart his own bike completely and put it back together again in one night. Still, he thought, feeling the rain build, why should they have to stand in the rain when a bike shop was not that far away? They weren't trying to pass a test now.
Ivan shook his wrench at Cheese in disgust. "Ah'm not puttin' mah Bell oan no fuckin' truck jist tae git it back aw scratched tae fuck. Ride oan ahead if ye likes boys, I'll meet ye at the pub later."
They stood there in silence a moment, weighing the option of leaving or staying. Normally they wouldn't leave a friend in such a situation, but the rain was getting to them all.
"I'll stay and give ya a hand." Vin offered and Ivan nodded his thanks as he returned to the broken down machine.
Vin couldn't say that he wanted to stand around in the rain any more than they did, particularly since his side was really starting to annoy him now and he could feel himself getting warmer than was natural for the weather, but he was trying to delay reaching the city. If he wasn't with them, the boys certainly couldn't carry out the surprise they had planned. Besides, if anyone was going to give over any information now, it would most likely be Ivan, grateful for the hand in fixing his bike. Cheese would have been his first point of attack, but he hadn't been able to get him alone.
Bruce rubbed his hands together and headed for his bike. "I ain't arguin', so long as its not me freezin' my ass off on the side of the road. See you suckers at the bar. Don't forget about tonight," he told Ivan, winking at Vin.
Rizzo clipped him on the shoulder as he went past. "Enjoy this fine Denver weather now!"
He watched them ride off while Ivan rummaged in the leather bag strapped to the back of his seat, producing a flask and tipping it straight to his lips. "Ahh, that's the spot."
He handed it to Vin who tasted the fiery scotch and had to admit it slid nicely down to his stomach.
"Let's see what we've got here," he said, crouching down to see where Ivan was at and waiting a full five minutes before trying to pry information from him.
"So... what's he talkin' 'bout – what's happenin' tonight?"
"Eh, dinnae be tryin' tae git the answers outae me, ye ken I cannae hold mah tongue."
Vin smiled as he checked a spark plug, then frowned at the state of it. Before he could comment Ivan swore.
"Ah know, ah know, she's in bad shape. Ah've been replacin' them plugs like there's no tomorrow, ah jist haven't had the time tae git tae the engine fir a while." He reached up and patted the fuel tank. "Ah wee bit ay love's all she needs."
"Can't believe yer still runnin' points… we're in an electric age ya know."
Ivan looked a little sheepish. "Ah sais tae the boys ah'd never convert her, but she's ready fir the scrap heap if I dinnae do somethin'…"
Vin shook his head. "Well I'm guessin' the points're shot, just from the way she was soundin' this mornin'."
"Yeah, figured as much, I wis gonnae replace `em at the shoap."
Vin looked up at the sky, which was still threatening to unload on them. "Guess we can clean `em up fer now, just get back ta town and sort it out there... what's the gap?"
"Dunno, jist been guessin' fir a while now."
Vin shook his head and stood up, heading for his own tools at the back of his bike and hoping to find a gauge to measure the distance of the points. "Ya know, ya wanna ride an' old thing like this ya really should keep her in shape."
"Ah know, I jist haven't had the time lately an'… well… I been thinkin' `bout tradin' her."
Vin was shocked. After all the protest and outrage he showed in defending his `Clara Bell'?
"Jist don't be tellin' the boys now. Ah'm gonnae tell em ah won a new ride in a sweepstakes or somethin'."
Vin laughed. "I don't think they're gonna buy that." He moved back with his tools and they got to work while the rain held. "Tell ya what, tell me 'bout tonight an' I won't say anythin'…"
Ivan grunted as he unscrewed the remaining spark plug. "Yer gonnae git me in trouble if they find oot ah's rabbitin' oan tae ye."
"I won't say a thing," Vin said casually, removing a gasket as he felt a few drops of rain hit his face. "This rain'd better hold off a little bit longer or we really are in trouble. I was thinkin' it has something ta do with the cops that were there that night, or maybe that Chief that beat on me in the hospital, now there's someone I plan on payin' back in full," Vin prodded, using his casual tone to probe for the much needed information.
"Ah'm sure ye would, but it's naw him…"
"Hmm.."
Vin continued to work, pressing the bigger man with his silence and grinning when he cracked after half a minute.
"Awright! But dinnae fuckin' say anythin' or they'll take me oot, enday fuckin' story!" Ivan couldn't help it, especially considering Vin's help was so appreciated right then.
"Not a word. Man, look at this mess in here, the wire's all corroded…"
"Settle doon, ah done told ye ah's replacin' the whole system."
"So if it's not the Chief, who we hittin'?"
"That cop'a yours."
Vin frowned. "Of mine?"
Ivan was preoccupied again with his bike and could not see Vin's alarmed face.
"Aye, the one in charge th'night they took oot Keg an' the lads." He looked up and nodded at Vin's side, "An' you."
Vin nodded slowly as if remembering, although the constant pain at his side wasn't about to let him forget, then seeing Ivan's expectant grin turned up toward him, he smiled slowly in response.
"Well, that's a surprise worth waitin' for. When?"
"Tonight, after we finish ye chores fae Billy. Goat a bomb ready for his car."
As Ivan looked down once more, Vin let his smile drop. He had to warn Larabee.