A/N: Just wanted to say thanks to the those of you that have reviewed. It's an old story I know but I'd be lying if I didn't say it didn't totally motivate me to keep updating faster this time round! (not to mention make my day when I see people are reading it :)) This story was always a little convoluted and part of my aim was to simplify it a bit as it originally got a bit out of hand with all of the different character-agendas going on, so I'm trying to do it justice this time round without it becoming a 9 million page fiasco. Thanks for your patience and if you have any feedback at all, I always love to hear it, I am always looking for ideas and a different point of view.

..

Part 17. Opposing Forces

Orin Travis entered Chris's office with Murphy close behind him. Since the ATF Captain had called them an hour before they had been busy men, knowing that if there was a grain of truth in the lead to the drug shipment, this could well be the break they needed, not to mention they could use the bust to give Benning back some much needed credibility.

Greetings were brief as they all wanted to get down to business but Chris had one thing he wanted to discuss first.

"Have you seen this?" he said, almost hissing the words as he pushed the morning paper across the desk towards them.

When the two men exchanged a look as they seated themselves Chris knew that they had.

"What the hell is Levitz playing at? He basically told the press he thinks Wilson's guilty of everything they are accusing him of and that the city would be better off without all of the `secret departments and in-house bureaucracy'. What is this guy on?! Does he think he can strap a tin star to his chest and handle all the cowboys who get out of line on his own? What age is the man living in? He's doing more harm than good in his position."

Orin beckoned Chris to take his seat. "I know this isn't easy on you and it's not easy on me either. Will is an old friend of mine too, we go way back, hell I appointed him, but like I told you this morning, we need to deal with what we can handle one step at a time. We need to keep ourselves thinking clearly about what we do and not react in anger, or from lack of sleep," he said pointedly.

Chris sighed at that, knowing his lack of sleep was making him crankier than hell. Still, he pointed at the paper. "He wants to live by the old way, but he can't do it any more. He's damaging our image and in the end

he's only going to make things worse for this city."

Travis's brow puckered as he looked at the paper, but when he met Chris's angry glare again, there was resolve in his eyes. "He won't be making noise for much longer, you'll just have to trust me on that, but the man's been around long enough to remember the ku klux governing the state and he's not easy to dismiss. It's taking some time, but I want it done right. I don't want him finding a loophole to crawl through once we step him down."

Chris studied Travis's face a long moment before giving a short nod. He was relieved to hear that at least action was under way, but wished things would move faster where Levitz was concerned. The man was pure arrogant imbecile, as far as he could tell.

"I've just had a call you may be interested in," Orin told him, knowing they had other business to move on to. Seeing he had Chris's attention he went on. "Someone's been trying to dig into Tanner's background."

Chris's eyes narrowed. "Someone?"

Orin nodded. "There are a couple of people we have been investigating for a short time. We've suspected them of working for the Joker's for a while now, keeping an eye on them."

"Did they find anything?"

"Only the information planted by his department when he went in. We're keeping an eye on them, at this point, it's better to leave them where they are, we've even fed them some false information a time or two."

Chris thought about that. Why were they looking into Vin now?

"I take it he hasn't called yet?"

Chris looked at Murphy and for a second wondered if he meant Tanner, who he was still waiting to hear from, or at least give some sign that he was still alive and kicking. He wondered what he had heard about Benning and what he was thinking. Next time he saw his latest recruit he was going to have to go over some rules of contact. He had hoped he would have some information on the haul and wished for once that things were not moving so quickly.

"Vlahov?"

Murphy nodded.

"No. Ezra thinks it will be any minute though, given that he rarely does any business until after noon."

"I have two Mobile Enforcement Teams ready for briefing. We've dedicated a lot of resources to watching the

transport into and out of this state but we can't be everywhere at once. If this is the real deal it's going to be a major disruption to supply. With quantities like that each month, they'd have to push it out of the metro area."

He had already put all border patrols on alert, for the ultimate aim was to find the source of the supply. Seizing the haul at any point was a bonus, but the closer to the source they got, the better it would be to finding the suppliers origin.

"I'm still concerned with Vlahov's motivation for disrupting his own supply," Orin said, a slight frown on his brow. "As Chris said earlier on the phone, it's likely he has his own supply lined up and wants to cut the bikers out. It's happening a lot around the country. They still have a lot of control, particularly bringing the goods up out of Mexico, but importation from overseas is fair game and there's been a growing complaint over the quality of the Mexican produce. If Agent Standish is right and this is mainly MDMA, he'll most likely be using his Western European connections to bring it into the country. As you both know, the last two shipments seized in New York came from the Netherlands."

"So theoretically he would have to have his own supply in place and ready to go if he wants to keep up with the demand," Chris said thoughtfully.

Murphy nodded. "If you're thinking what I'm thinking, he's giving us a major haul and could be covering his own shipment somewhere."

"Then we raid his club as well, co-ordinate it to happen at the same time," Orin decided. "I don't think he'd be stupid enough to assume we won't be watching his every move after this, so it could be a one-off haul."

Murphy's brow rose. "In which case this 'theoretical shipment' could actually be a major load..."

They thought it over a moment before Murphy continued, looking at Chris. "Makes sense. If we're right about his motives, it would be the perfect time for him to move his own supply."

"Or not so perfect," Chris smirked. His gut was telling him they were onto something. Big.

Murphy grinned back but Orin dampened their moment. "If that's the case, let's just hope he's not as smart as he thinks he is."

Chris's thoughts turned to Ezra, he certainly wasn't going to like this plan. Just as he had that thought there was a knock at the door and the very man he'd been thinking about entered, a stack of folders in his arms.

Ezra knew he'd walked in on something big when Chris did not meet his eyes straight off. He gestured to the phone.

"They're putting his call through now."

Chris winced at that. No time to tell Ezra the new plan... The phone rang and he exchanged a glance with Travis.

"Take a seat, Ezra," Travis told the Southerner.

Ezra came further into the room and sat in the remaining chair while Chris picked up the call, knowing something was going on by the silent communications being shared around him.

"Larabee."

"Mr Larabee. I trust you got my package last night."

"I did, although what help you thought that was I'm not sure, it didn't change anything."

Vlahov paused a moment. "But it was still more than you had, no?" When Chris didn't respond he continued. "Then perhaps I have something that you will be grateful for."

Chris smiled at that. "Perhaps you do."

Vlahov's voice then became hurried, as if he were suddenly paranoid of being overheard. "Midnight tonight you will find a truck at the Empire Warehouse facility, bay number four."

"And?"

"And if you look into it, I think you will find a great reward for your time."

"You know, there must be an old saying somewhere about taking help without having to give something in return..." He looked at Ezra, purposely stirring him as he went on. "I think it has something to do with saying hi to a crocodile."

Ezra looked pissed while Vlahov was confused by the unfamiliar reference, but understood what Larabee was saying none the less.

"I expect nothing in return. Let us just say that our goals are the same."

"And you really think that I'll just let you take up the slack left by the Jokers once they're gone?"

The line was silent a moment before Vlahov repeated his words, not denying he had intentions of doing just that. "I expect nothing... Of course once the streets are clean from this filth, it will be a fresh palette. I cannot assure you that others will not step in."

Chris heard the line disconnect and replaced the phone. Vlahov was a confident son of a bitch. He looked at Ezra a moment before turning to the rest of the men.

"Midnight tonight, out at the new Empire Warehouse facility, bay number four."

"OK, we've all got things to do to get this happening." Murphy looked at Chris, nodding towards Ezra. "I want to know everything I can about the nightclub. I don't want any mistakes tonight. We need something to come from this, for Wilson's sake."

Ezra's eyes flashed from Murphy to Chris. "I'm sensin' I've missed somethin' important."

Chris knew Ezra was not going to be happy. "We were just discussing Vlahov's situation before you came in. Given the timing of his tip off, we think it's a likely time for him to be moving his own shipment."

He was indeed pissed off but a hiked brow was his only give-away. "And how do we know that he has a shipment."

"You said yourself that he has to meet demand. If he's giving us this haul he has to have his own supply ready for distribution. You told me there was a storage area beneath the complex that you had yet to access."

Ezra shook his head. "I was under the distinct impression you wanted to keep Vlahov in our confidence. Do you not all agree that the information he is handin' us is of great benefit to our case? Tearin' him down so early in the game would not be in our best interest."

Chris's expression did not waver. "Have you considered that once we have the haul the bikers are going to know how we found out and they're going to take him out regardless?" He could see by Ezra's expression that he had indeed considered that. "If we don't clean him out before they do we'll be back to square one and he'll have his goods out on the street before the week is out."

Ezra thought about this and had to admit that he was more pissed off at the fact that he'd been excluded in the decision to storm Vlahov's club than he was about the decision itself. He did think there was much more to be gained from keeping his trust and he didn't agree with taking him down prematurely, but Chris was right and he knew it. Sadly, he was used to having people going behind his back, so he was more than shocked when Chris seemed to have read his mind.

"This discussion happened five minutes before you walked in. I know he's your contact, that he is just starting to trust you, so I'm asking you, do you think the benefit of sitting on this outweighs the chance that we are right? Do you think what more we could learn from him by watching him is worth losing a shot at stopping this shipment from hitting the streets?"

Ezra looked at the picture behind Travis's desk for a quiet moment without seeing it, appreciating that his Captain had asked him to weigh in. When he looked back he gave a nod of agreeance. "I do think that the club will go after him. We will need to get to him quickly before they do. Perhaps he will be willing to offer more information in order to make a deal once he is in custody."

Chris smiled with a small nod, happy that Ezra was on the same page and Ezra was a little disturbed by the amount of satisfaction he took from that look.

"I've got some planning to do and then I'll be back to go over the club with you, Agent Standish." Murphy looked at Chris. "We can brief our teams together in a few hours."

Orin rose and walked with Murphy, apparently deep in thought. Chris followed them to the door then called him men together.

"Through Ezra's contact at the club we've had a lead on a haul of drugs coming into the city tonight at midnight, but we'll need to work fast to get some background information and we'll be working with the DEA on the bust." He looked at JD. "I need you to look into Empire's transport patterns for me. The truck we're looking for is apparently going to be at bay four of their new warehousing facility. I want to know where it's coming from."

As JD nodded, he turned to Buck. "Buck I need you to pull up everything on significant DEA MDMA busts in and around the city in the last year." Finally he looked at Nathan and Josiah. "I need you guys to head out there, look around and get a feel for the place." He didn't need to tell them to be discreet. He addressed them all. "There's a second part. Murphy is also organising a team to make a coinciding hit on the club tonight. We believe Vlahov may be holding his own supply in the building. If we're right, it could be a major bust. We'll be meeting again with Murphy in two hours so we need move quickly if we're going to pull this together." He grinned then. "It's show time boys, it's going to be a big night."

..

Vin couldn't decide if he was going to freeze death from the outside or melt within his own skin when he finally pulled into the bike repair shop with Ivan an hour later. The rain had held until they'd gotten the bike running, but it had caught them ten minutes shy of their destination and they were thoroughly soaked. He had the nagging suspicion that it wasn't just rain coating his skin, though, he was sweating and the headache that had started earlier had now made its way around from the back of his skull to the front. He needed to get another dose of the antibiotics he'd left behind and that gave him an idea on how he might get away for an hour or two.

As they pulled up they saw a side roller door open in response to the noise of their pipes and a massive man

waddled out to greet them under the cover of the roof's overhang, his arms working over the girth of his beer belly to beckon them to park inside out of the rain.

Vin felt the warmth of the concrete repair area the second he cut his engine but still leant forward and leant heavily on his fuel tank, enjoying the raw heat that was coming up from his now silent bike. He was tempted to wrap himself around the exhaust if it would take the chill out of his spine.

"Your friends stopped in and said you'd be coming in. Have a bit of trouble?" he asked them needlessly, eyeing Vin's cut and bruised face and seeing that he was obviously exhausted. The man did not look well at all, he thought. "Big night?" he asked him, thinking he might be hung over and maybe gotten into a fight.

Neither man responded, with Vin not even looking up and Ivan shivering as he dismounted and leaned his bike onto its stand. For a second the tall man had an impulse to kick his Clara Bell over, but just managed to quell the urge. He finally looked at the overly welcoming mechanic. "You're Mike?"

The massive man nodded and extended his hand. Ivan didn't offer his name nor his hand, just gave him an

assessing look. He nodded towards his bike. "Ah'll be workin' on her here, I jist need some parts."

It wasn't a request and after sorting through the distorted words, Mike instantly nodded, making a show of wiping his still preferred hand on the material stretched tightly over his belly. "Sure, ok. The Denver boys always come out and see me. Anything you want."

Ivan held his look a moment and then nodded as a counter bell rang out.

"I'm on my own today, so just call out if you need anything," Mike told them and then gave Vin another look as he slowly ambled away. The drenched man had yet to speak or move, his wet hair now covering the pale skin of his face as he leant forward over his fuel tank with his arms hanging down toward the heat of his engine.

Ivan, too, finally noticed that Vin had yet to get off his bike and poked him in the shoulder. "Ye run oot a'steam?"

Vin made a grunt of response and then lifted his head to look at Ivan.

Ivan whistled. "Well, look at ye. Ye look like ya rode tae Texas an' back."

"I forgot the pills the docs gave me when I left the hospital. Think I might be comin' down with somethin'." His voice was rougher than usual and combined with his appearance, he came across as more than just 'coming down with something'.

Ivan peered harder at his pale skin. Back in Texas Vin had always looked tan and fit. It was the first time he really noticed the contrast and he put it succinctly. "Ye look like shite."

Vin smiled despite himself. "Thanks." With obvious effort he pushed himself to a sitting position, wondering if Ivan would make the call he wanted to hear without prompting.

"Ye can meet up with the boys if ye likes. I'm awright here."

Vin just gave a slight nod, not seeming to care what he did and finally Ivan got it.

"Mebbe ye should go tae the hospital, git some ay them pills `fore ye keel over."

Vin frowned a little, as if he hadn't considered that. "Maybe yer right."

"Call one ay the boys tae go."

Vin knew that Billy had told everyone that they were not to be seen riding alone. In times of high alert, or whenever there was trouble with police or rival clubs, this rule was always in place, so he hoped that Ivan wouldn't push it.

"Nah, I'll be ok. I'll just stop off and then head over to the bar, be there before you I reckon."

To his relief Ivan nodded and Vin looked around the shop a moment at the assortment of bikes, trying not to look too anxious to leave. He really wasn't relishing heading back out in the rain, but his heart was hammering with the need to make contact with Larabee.

His eyes strayed around a varied assortment of Harley's until he saw a bike that looked completely out of place. Ivan followed his gaze as he began searching for some tools and swore.

"Fuckin' rice burnin' piece ay shite."

Vin cocked his head to the side, studying the Suzuki he'd spotted and got off his bike, once more feeling the strain on his injured knee as he put his weight down. The bike was triggering a memory. He walked up to it and looked closer, noting the Japanese machine had hardly been ridden as he took in the number of miles on the dash.

Just then Mike made his way back to them. "Find what ya need?" he asked Ivan and looked curiously at Vin to see what he had found so interesting that he'd finally gotten off his bike.

Ivan was taking tools off the wall brackets as if he owned the place. "So far. Except mebbe coffee."

Mike got the hint immediately. "I'll make some up."

As he turned Vin stopped him with a question. "What's wrong with this one?"

Mike tilted his head to the side and walked over, thinking, then scratched his chin. "I dunno. She's been sittin' there a long time now, I'd have to look her up."

Vin frowned but let it go. The chance was slim that it was actually Agent Dunne's bike, but he'd look into it when he got the chance. He headed back to his own bike and got on again, kicking his stand up and walking it back out through the roller door. "See you in a while."

Ivan looked up. "Thanks fer yer help."

Vin grinned but didn't respond as he reached the open drive and started his engine again. It was time to take some action. His pipe roared away back out into the dismal rain and slow moving traffic. His first point of call: phone booth.

..

After sitting with a still seething Ezra for an hour going over all the information he had on Vlahov to date, Chris had met again with Murphy to co-ordinate their plans for attacking the two separate facilities. It was only after reluctantly promising Ezra that he could head up the nightclub operation - in conjunction with Murphy's DEA team, that his Agent had given him his full co-operation. He was by no means happy that his alliance with Vlahov was about to come to a drastic end, but he had accepted the fact that the decision was no longer within his ability to be swayed.

Once that was taken care of, Chris had finally had no option other than to fall on his face or take to his couch to catch a moment's sleep. He knew that if he didn't close his eyes for at least a few minutes, he wasn't going to make it through the afternoon, let alone the night. Murphy's parting words had been to tell him in no uncertain terms that he would be cutting him out of the bust if he did not get some rest and finally he'd given in.

So it was that as Vin stood shivering in the meagre shelter of a public phone booth, ignoring the looks of passers by on the busy city street, he found himself scowling as Larabee's cell phone rang out and diverted to voice mail. He'd shut the glass door of the booth to stop the rain only to realise it had no glass in the frame. He could have used his cell phone, but knew that there was always a chance of being traced and so had decided to seize the opportunity to use a pay phone while he had access to one so freely. Now he wished he hadn't bothered.

Hearing the phone ring out again he wished that the glass was there so that he could kick it out of it's frame himself. His rising temperature was getting the better of him and he was starting to feel the cold in every shard of bone that he had. Hanging up the phone again he reinserted his coins, deciding to call the main federal building and try and reach him in person there, before he had to leave him a message. He waited long seconds while the call connected.

"…how can I direct your call?"

"Captain Chris Larabee, department of ATF."

"Just a moment, please…"

A screech of tyres across the street had him looking up, catching the site of an irate driver throwing a fist up at a man who had tried to dash through the traffic in the rain. The side walks were crowded with people trying to take shelter between lengths of water washed pavement.

"I'm sorry Sir, Mr Larabee is currently unavailable at the moment, would you like to leave a message on his voice mail or would you like to speak to somebody else?"

Vin suppressed a curse as he brought up a hand to massage a now pulsing temple. The headache seemed to be on the move again, running down to the sides of his jaw and the back of his neck. He thought about asking for one of the other agents and then decided to leave a message first for Larabee, before he spoke to anyone else. He waited as she put him through, thinking on all of the information he had to pack into a short recorded message so that by the time the beep sounded he was rushing his words out and trying to keep up with his thoughts.

"You've reached Chris Larabee, please leave a message and I'll return your call…"

"Larabee its Tanner. I need ta speak ta ya right away. The tip-off ya got is -"

"You can't park there!"

Vin felt the tap on his shoulder just as the loud voice came at him from behind. He turned, the phone still in his hand, to see two uniformed policemen standing before him, no older than he was and decked out in wet weather gear, looking none too happy about being out in the rain. One of them pointed to his bike, parked next to the phone booth.

"You can't park there, you'll have to move it."

Vin didn't need to look at his bike to know he'd parked in a loading zone. He cursed inwardly, this was just what he needed. "No problem guys, I'm on my way." He just needed to finish his message, but they weren't leaving.

He should have seen it coming. They exchanged a meaningful look and the second man - a tall, extremely pale skinned, well-built officer - took a step forward. "Please step out of the booth and show us some identification."

For a second Vin contemplated telling them he was an undercover agent, but it was only out of sheer frustration and the thought was gone as quickly as it had come to his mind. No way in hell could it be made known there was a traitor in the biker ranks, not to anyone outside of his own team and their direct superiors. Besides, there were way too many citizens around to hear.

"Have I done somethin' wrong officer? Other than the parking?"

The man did not blink. "Just step out of the booth. Now."

Vin took a good look at their firm expressions, took in the derisive, yet curious glances of the people passing by, and resigned himself to the delay. What had he done bar wear a club jacket and park in a loading zone? Maybe he should have taken the jacket off and stashed it while he was on his own, yet part of him resented being accosted for no other reason than wearing it. He knew how precious his time was now and didn't need the delay, but knew that if he resisted them, it would only take up more time and make things worse. So it was that he hung up the phone and stepped back out into the light rain, the rest of his message still left unsaid.

..

Chris didn't know how long he'd slept, if he had at all, when he heard his cell phone beep from across the room on his desk. He was so tired, lying there in a half doze as he had been, that he wished he had turned it off completely, not put it in pager mode so that it would beep if anyone had called.

With a deep sigh he got up and went to see who the message was from, quickly seeing that it was an unknown number and they had not left a message, had just hung up. Twice. His first thought was that if it was important, the person would have left a message, or called back, but something told him it was odd. Moving around the desk, he looked to his office phone, saw that the message light was beeping red and dialled his code to listen to the messages.

As the recorded voice told him he had a new message his office door opened and Buck entered, saw that he was on the phone and quietly sat to wait.

"Larabee its Vin. I need ta speak ta ya right away. The tip-off ya got is -"

"You can't park there!"

Chris frowned as the voices became muffled and waited until the line went dead. He glanced at Buck, shaking his head slightly as he replayed the message, listening for anything he might have missed.

"What is it?" Buck asked.

Chris put the message on the speaker and they both listened to Tanner's urgent voice before it was cut off all of a sudden.

"What the hell was that?"

"I don't know," Chris said, disconnecting the call.

"Sounded like he was on the street. He could have been about to say anything about the tip-off."

"I need to find him, that didn't sound good and he obviously knows something about tonight. I was hoping he'd call in with some information." He looked thoughtful for a moment and Buck looked at his tired face.

"You get any sleep?"

Chris looked at his watch, seeing that nearly an hour had gone by. "A bit. Enough to get me by for a while longer."

He stood up. "I need to find Tanner, if he knows something I want to know what the hell it is. Is Murphy back yet for the meeting?"

"He just called, he's on his way up, says he's got some information from one of his teams and wants to go over it first before we meet. JD's got something for you too, from the search he did into Empire's transport movements and Josiah and Nathan have just come back from their drive-by of the area."

"What about you, what did you find on the DEA reports?"

"There hasn't been a lot in the last year. Murphy's asked Special Agent Swathers to come on board. He's on his way over too."

Chris nodded at that. Swathers was in charge of the Rocky Mountain Division and coordinated the cooperative efforts of the DEA Tasks forces and local police agencies in the state. Part of his role was to use money taken in seizures and redistribute it throughout the state as funding for investigation and training.

"He'll be able to fill us in on what the local agencies have been up to, there's been a lot of individual arrests and busts throughout the state since he started coordinating the deployment teams, but Murphy says there hasn't been any big hauls since Operation Green Clover. They have nothing on the Empire Facility in their investigations. If we hit the payload tonight, we'll pull in as much in that haul as they did after two years setting up."

"It's not about the biggest haul, Buck. Grabbing one truck is not the same, they shut down the entire operation from here to California with about sixty-eight arrests. If we need to sit and watch this until it moves we will. I'd like to stop the drugs hitting the street, but it would be nice to have someone to take down with the bust."

"Well it's a start, and it'll lead to more," he said with conviction.

Chris nodded and stood up, his mind going back to Vin's call. "Alright, I want to know where that call came from. Get someone looking into it while we have that meeting."

..

Vin allowed himself to be led under the shelter of a shop's porch, back from the road. Glancing into the windows as he walked, he saw that it was a jewellery store and his eyes briefly fell on a man inside as he shut the door and locked it in case the trouble got too close. The officer's addressed the people who were crowding under the shop's cover, telling them to go about their business, for what little that did.

To Vin's eyes, the number of people on the street seemed to grow if anything, although anyone close stayed far enough back to avoid any physical contact.

"Your identification please."

He reached into his jacket, trying not to hurry in his impatience.

"Slowly!" The officer barked anyway, suspicious over the pallor of his skin beneath the bruises. In his opinion, if the man they had stopped wasn't sick, he was probably high.

With deliberately slow movements Vin took out his wallet and flipped it open so the officer could see his

identification. Vin Turner and all of his history was perfectly displayed for the shorter, darker haired man's view as he took the wallet and studied the license. The blonde officer then ordered him to face the wall next to the shop's display window.

He sighed as he turned, not even bothering to argue the unwarranted search for he knew they wouldn't find

anything, especially not the knife he carried well concealed in his boot. He caught his reflection in the glass as he moved and for a second he objectively took the whole scene in; two uniformed officers, dealing with a scruffy, beat up biker. Rather than walk faster, people were slowing down as they passed, their curiosity making them pause to see what they could of the situation that was something out of the ordinarily dreary day for them as they shifted between work, shopping, or taking quick lunches.

The scene looked disturbingly real to him. He wasn't seeing an undercover agent acting out a run-in with the police, he was seeing a street thug being treated as expected by the crowd who looked on in disdain and morbid fascination. He wondered then what he would think, if he were one of them, watching on. Most of them would probably never have spoken to a biker in their life, would have never had any reason to think about them, other than when they saw them making headlines in the news. What would it be like to know nothing about them, to have never met one, let alone lived as one? Nice, is what he concluded. But he'd never had a say in that. His father had made that choice for him long ago. One way or another, it was in his blood.

The tall officer gave him a rough shove to let him know he wanted him right up against the wall and he stifled a grunt of protest as his body connected with the hard concrete. He turned his face to the side at the last second to avoid having his nose connect with the wall. He felt every movement against his ribs as he was searched for a weapon beneath his thick jacket while the remaining officer walked a short distance away and called for an ID check on his license. He had a fleeting wish that he had the club boys with him, if just for that moment. This would never have happened, the cowards would never have singled out one in a group. The time issue was bothering him, but he couldn't ignore the affront to his personal space either.

Finally the man told him to turn back around and gave him a rough tug on his arm to hurry him before pushing him back against the wall. For a moment Vin just stared at the man, his world tipping for the briefest of moments until once more his eyes retained their cool stare, showing how much he did not appreciate the treatment he was getting. This was one guy who was going to get what was coming to him, that much he knew.

They waited a moment while the smaller man listened on his radio and Vin saw by his face as he returned that he had discovered about his run in with the law only days ago.

His wallet was slowly handed back as the dark eyes looked at him in suspicion and distaste.

"I'd think you'd seen enough action this week Turner, being arrested for rape and all." He looked at his partner and they exchanged a glance.

"Not ta mention bein' acquitted an' all," Vin returned lazily.

They studied him a moment and again the darker man spoke. "You high?" He peered closer, not waiting for an answer. "You look high…"

His partner spoke up. "I thought you guys always travelled in packs?"

Vin tried to respond with as much calm and civility as he could. "I's just passin' by an' needed ta use the phone. Didn't know I parked in a loadin' zone."

The officers looked at each other and Vin realised his mistake. He'd been too civil and now they knew he wanted to get out of there in a hurry and would try and delay him longer, just to get a rise out of him.

"What's your business in town?"

Finally Vin's eyes narrowed. "That'd be none of your business."

The tall man looked over at his bike, parked on the road. "Everything in this district is my business. Maybe we should take a look and make sure there's nothing you're hiding over there?"

Now he was getting pissed off. Besides that, he had a gun under all of his clothes in one of his packs that could not be discovered or he wasn't going to be able to make a phone call until lawyers got involved. Still he said nothing, just stared back, letting them decide what they would. Anything he said would be taken as provocation, given their attitude.

A silent moment stretched where the officer's continued to weigh him up, trying to intimidate him into taking some sort of aggressive action, knowing he was in a hurry to use the phone. Finally the shorter man spoke to his partner.

"I think we should take a look to be on the safe side. This guy don't look like he's here for anything good."

Vin watched them take a step and debated asking them what their provocation was for wanting to look into his personal property. He'd had enough of the delay and was about to take his leave, whatever way it happened. Hopefully he'd get far enough that later he could have these two pinheads brought down a few pegs, but the dark man's radio cut in before he had to make a decision and a call came out for backup only a block away for a robbery in progress. He took the opportunity to take another step toward his bike.

"I'll be movin' on now, fella's, let ya get ta the real criminals… `less you wanna give me a ticket fer the parkin'."

"Matter of fact I do," the smaller officer said, already flipping open his book.

That'd be right, Vin thought. Just to piss him off they were going to ignore a robbery in progress, but he waited as patiently as he could until the little dickweed gave him his infringement for the parking, tearing it from his book like he was presenting him with a rare document of great importance. He had to go up on his toes to get closer to Vin's ear to whisper his parting words. "You stay out of trouble. Take a step wrong and one of us will bring you down, you got that?"

Vin almost grinned at the piss-ant, but his speech remained low and drawled. "Sure thing, officer. Wouldn't wanna piss off Denver's finest law enforcers now, would I? Where'd us good citizens be without you guys lookin' out for us?"

With hard looks the officer's departed and Vin finally turned back to the phone, knowing with certainty that he really was getting sick and that getting to help was becoming a priority.

The booth was occupied.

"God damn it!" he looked down at his watch and again felt his vision cloud. He didn't need this… Time was getting away from him and he needed to get back to the boys to find out where the real shipment was going to be. Wearily he took a deep breath and pulled out his own phone, distancing himself from the small crowd as he dialled Larabee's number one more time.

..

..

Billy heard a knock at his door and glanced at the clock beside his massive, four post bed. Two o'clock. He supposed he should try and catch some of the day before it ended… With little regard for the woman tangled in the covers beside him, he threw back his own covers and got up, knowing he'd woken her when she made a slight mewl of protest, but not giving a damn. He couldn't even remember her name, had just known she'd be sharing his bed when he saw her enthusiastically jumping one of the boys on the staircase the night before.

The knock came again and this time he went to the door, not bothering to put clothes on as he opened it.

"What?"

Jake didn't blink. "Eddie just crossed the border."

He said nothing, but the slight narrowing of his eyes showed what he thought. He didn't want the club's Texan President in his territory, let alone in his house. He had plans that only Jake knew about and it was time to put them into action. Those plans would see his club become it's own entity, removed from the rules and restrictions and countless by-laws that the original and presiding Texas club oversaw. Better still, if he succeeded to the level he was aiming for, he would have control of the Texan chapter as well as his own.

"Meet me downstairs."

Jake turned and left and Billy closed his door to take a shower. The woman in his bed was now sitting up, with a smug smile on her face. She thought she'd won a prize last night in bedding the President. She was wrong.

"What the fuck are you smilin' at?"

Her face instantly dropped.

"Get your cheap ass outta my bed."

He didn't stick around to see her reaction, but as he stood under the hot water of his shower, he thought he could hear her swearing as she packed up her things, which didn't register enough to annoy him, his mind was somewhere else anyway.

When he'd grown up in Texas, the one thing he could not abide was the law. Now here he was, all these years later, and he was still forced to comply with someone else's demands. But it was only a matter of time now before he became the number one authority figure of his own little empire of men. He'd built up enough associates in this town to dominate the entire state. He didn't need the protection, nor the club name if it came down to it, any more. He had his own path to follow.

..

Even as Vin pressed the last button to dial Larabee's number he heard it. The noise that prompted a million curses a minute across the planet. The dreaded battery is low warning beep.

"No, no no no no…" he looked at the bars on his phone, just one flickering cell left. " Fuck!" Could this day be any worse?! He eyed the phone booth, still occupied… He could just intimidate the guy into leaving, but he really wanted to get off that particular side walk before those cops came back, if just to avoid another unnecessary delay. He ran a hand across the back of his neck and felt the moisture coating his hot skin, or was it rain? Hell if he knew any more. He couldn't think. He should be cold right now, he did know that. He'd been cold a minute ago hadn't he? Another shiver chased his back and he continued to rub his aching neck as he held his phone to his ear and impatiently waited.

Beep.

He closed his eyes at the sound. When he heard the three successive beeps, he knew it would be all over.

Chris was about to enter the boardroom when he heard his phone ring again and quickly pulled it out of his pocket. There was no way he'd intended to turn it off for the meeting, not with Tanner out there somewhere trying to call in with news like he was.

"Larabee."

"It's me."

Chris walked back to his office to avoid noise, recognising the low drawl immediately. "About time. I got your

message. I was hoping you'd call in. You alright?"

"Yeah, just listen fer a second. My phone's nearly dead. They're going to try and take you out. Tonight."

Chris stopped walking. "How?"

"Your car, with a bomb. I'm meant to be with them."

Beep.

"Fuckin' phone! Look I'll call you again soon as I can find a phone that's safe."

Seeing they had no time to discuss the issue Chris quickly spoke. "Someone's been trying to pull information on you from within the bureau."

Vin paused at that. "What sort of information?"

"Just a general sweep, anything they could get. There's associates under investigation and one of them did a search on your name."

Vin recognised an opportunity when he saw one. This was the chance he needed to let Billy know how useful he could be to him, without having to let the information out himself. "This could be a good thing. I want to let them know about my last job description in the marines."

"They don't know?"

"No. Not that I was Special Forces."

"Why now?"

Beep.

"I think it'll help get me closer to the president here. He'll be needing someone to help him if he really is going to aim for Eddie. I think it's the perfect shoe in."

Chris thought about that. "You sure?"

"Yeah, just need to protect my name is all."

"Ok, I'll see what I can do."

"Another thing, tonight you -"

Beep beep beep.

He actually threw his phone as he cursed, the battery coming loose as it hit the ground with a clutter. It just wasn't in him to keep it in his hand. If they couldn't put enough power in a phone to see out a few conversations how was anyone supposed to believe they could generate enough power to get to the moon and back? That alone had him believing the conspiracy theories.

Chris, too, looked at his phone in frustration. Call ended. He had Vin's cell number now but what was the point, the thing was obviously flat. Still, he'd heard enough for him to know something was seriously wrong. He turned on his heel and went back to the boardroom. Why couldn't things just sit all black and white - just once in a while?

Vin reached to pick up his phone from the pavement and as he did, felt his stomach rise into his chest and grabbed the wall for support out of shock, not expecting the sudden onslaught. A young couple looked at him oddly as they passed, not stopping to enquire about his health. He took a deep breath, swallowing the sick feeling just as he heard a noise that worried him more than the noise of his flat battery had. The unmistakable sound of Harley Davidson's approaching.

..