Part 19. Double Play

Vin spent another ten minutes talking about the operation and then it was another half hour before he'd seen the doctor, gotten his prescription filled and finally taken the pills he'd been needing all day. He already knew his side was sore to the touch but the doctor confirmed that it was infected when he cleaned and redressed the wound. He hadn't been able to keep it dry and knew he was going to run into the same problem the minute he left the hospital. He left the bandages off his wrists this time, his wounds from the handcuffs still healing, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to keep them dry either. The doctor also told him it looked like he was coming down with a virus and prescribed a second set of antibiotics with the advice that he stay off his feet for a few days and stay warm.

He didn't need the doctor to tell him that he needed to stay in a warm, dry room for a while, he'd been craving it for days. As much as he couldn't afford to get sick now, given everything he had going on, he was afraid that it was too late for that. On top of the headache, his throat was starting to hurt when he swallowed, but he was determined to stay in the game. He'd been shot, beat up and assaulted – and all in the last week - no way was it going to be a cold that did him in after all that. He was going to catch some sleep while he could.

By the time they arrived back at the bar Vin was more than ready to sit still and dry for a while. There were only a few bikes parked outside, the ever-flickering light of the Shaking Hand neon catching their reflective tanks. He hadn't been inside since the night Keg had died, which seemed now like a lifetime ago.

"Can't see Rizzo's bike, or Ivan's. They must still be workin' on that piece'a shit," Bruce observed as he dismounted, heading towards the wooden doors.

Vin looked over the bikes as he opened the leather pack at the side of his seat and tugged out some not particularly clean, but thankfully dry clothes, tucking his gun inside the bundle before he pulled it out. He knew that his belongings were safe on his bike, as fiercely guarded as the street was by the men watching from inside and from the door. "You wanna go give `em a hand?"

"Hell no. I'm grabbin' a beer."

They went inside, nodding as always to the bouncer at the door. The room was as dark as Vin remembered it, although the last time he'd stood in it he'd been bleeding all over the place and watching his back from every angle that he could. There were only a few people in there now though, most were out at the complex waiting for the funeral, he knew.

"Beer?" Bruce asked him as they approached the bar, neither knowing the young probate that stood behind it.

"Reckon I'll change m'clothes, might even rest up a bit."

"Just one," Bruce told the tall man, virtually a kid, behind the bar.

As he watched him pour the beer from a tap Vin asked if Chooks was in.

The kid shook his head. "Headed rode out today with the rest of the boys. Heard there was a hell of a party out there last night. You just come from there?" Clearly he wished he could be out where the action was too.

"Yeah," Bruce said, offering nothing else as his beer was placed before him. It had barely touched the bar when it was lifted to his lips, his contentment expressed with a satisfied sigh as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Somethin' I can get for you?" the bartender asked Vin.

Before he gave in to the call of alcohol he quickly diverted his attention. "A bed. Got anythin' upstairs?"

The kid turned and grabbed a key. "Number 6. But it doesn't make much difference, they're all empty – and no-ones been in to clean this week," he warned.

Vin took the key, not caring how clean the room was at that point. He turned to Bruce. "Wake me if anythin'

happens."

Bruce grunted into his beer, already having devoted himself to keeping his stool warm and Vin made his way to the stairs across the room, feeling every heavy step that took him closer to a dry bed.

..

Suzy eyed Billy as he approached her, seeing the determined glint in his eye and knowing what it meant. He had been acting strange all afternoon, even for him, and it was unsettling her. Having listened to his conversation with Jake earlier, she knew he was anxious now to hear from his vice president, who had left the grounds shortly after their talk.

She sensed that Billy was nervous, although she knew there was no-one else, except perhaps Jake, that would know that. He was excited, but he was nervous all the same. Taking out the President of the largest motorcycle club in the country was no small thing, even for a man with Billy's dark ambitions. Things were changing and she knew that the time was soon coming when she would finally make her own move, or die trying.

..

Chris rolled over in his sleep just as his watch alarm sounded that it was time to wake up. He shifted until he was staring up at the ceiling of his office in the low light that peeked through the blinds of the window. It took all of five seconds for his crowded mind to jump back to life and in rushed all of the thoughts and possibilities that had plagued him when he had laid himself down to rest just an hour before. Like wasps investigating every possibly shadow for a new home, decisions pricked at his awoken mind with relentless persistence.

With a small grunt of effort he sat up, rubbing his aching arm and putting the couch and the peace it had brought behind him, thankful that his mind had had some respite, however long it had lasted. A quick check of his watch confirmed that an hour had indeed gone by as his still beeping alarm had warned him, and he quickly stopped the high pitched noise with a press of a side button. 10.00pm. Two hours until show time. He knew Buck and the rest of his team would be back at the office at any second, ready to leave. He had not seen the benefit of getting to his own bed when all he would get was a few hours sleep anyway. The rest

of his team had gone and grabbed a late dinner, considering they hadn't finished preparing for the bust until eight.

He went out to the main office and to the small kitchen, using the sink to wash his face and grab a glass of water just as he heard the elevator signal the arrival of his men. Their conversation was muted but energetic as they approached and he was thankful that they sounded refreshed. All of them had looked worn out after so long deliberating with the DEA in the boardroom throughout the afternoon.

There was only one problem with his team and as Buck approached him he knew nothing had changed since he had gone to sleep. Ezra had taken off. Again.

"Any word?" he asked, but already knew the answer from Buck's expression.

Buck's scowl deepened. "No, and Mitri's not home either."

Chris shook his head. "I'm going to kill that lying son of a bitch. He looked me in the eye and told me he wouldn't do this again." Sort of. Damn loophole.

Buck watched the anger flow over his old friend's face, seeing the moment he shoved it aside.

"He'll have to wait, we have work to do, there's nothing we can do for him right now if he's in trouble."

They shared a solemn look before Buck spoke. "Then lets get this show on the road."

..

Vin awoke to the sound of raised, whispered voices, coming from the room next to his and immediately reassured himself with the feel of his gun, which he had tucked between the mattress and the thin fibro wall before he had let himself fall into a much needed sleep.

"Don't give a fuck about them... only one way to…"

His brow creased as he tried to make out the words, which were low and muffled, coming through to him even as his muddled mind came into focus. Slowly he got up and tucked his gun into the low waistband of his unbuttoned black jeans, his stomach tensing as he felt the cold metal at his back against his warm skin.

He'd slept with his jeans on, one hand near his gun and his back to the wall, staying on top of the bed and pulling a tattered blanket he'd found in a cupboard over himself, not able to bring himself to get inside the dirty sheets. His bare feet made no noise as he went around the bed to the wall and pressed his ear up against the chipped, lime coloured paint to listen. By the time he positioned himself, however, the men in the next room were leaving and he only caught the last few words they spoke.

"…tonight. We'll let them do the work for us. It's better this way, trust me."

"Alright, but I'm not waitin' any longer than that. If it comes down to it I'll take the bastard out myself and to hell with everyone. Fuck, it's what I wanted to do in the first place. I owe that prick."

The door closed and Vin waited a moment, hearing the footsteps recede down the hall before he moved to his door and unlocked it. Slowly he leant out, peering into the orange glow created by the wall lamps, their frosted glass shells choked by layers of accumulated dust and cigarette smoke, until he saw the shadows of two men heading for the stairs.

Leaving his room, he stepped out into the hallway, the threadbare carpet coarse beneath his feet as he followed silently, his gun still tucked in the waist of his jeans, but his hand resting within quick reach. He felt the cold of the night air on his bare chest, his skin tight in protest of leaving the warm room, but there was no time to go back for a shirt now.

Downstairs, Cheese tilted his head back to get the last dregs of his beer and as he did so, caught the eye of the two men coming down the last stairs into the bar. His eyes immediately sought Bruce's, but his friend had already seen them and put his own glass down. Cheese had come back and they'd been sitting there waiting for Rizzo and Ivan to return and for Vin to wake up, but not impatiently, for they were warm, they were well fed and most importantly, they had beer.

But now the sight of Judd Lidlow gave them pause, for he could only mean trouble – and he'd just come from

upstairs, where Vin was sleeping. Retribution for his brother's death was something none of them should have taken lightly. The man was a thinner, meaner looking replica of his brother, with a completely shaved head and a long, scraggly dark beard that hung down past his chest in an unclean mess. His eyes were pale and cold, even to those that called him friend. Decker had been the more popular of the brothers, although neither had a lot of men they could call friend, even within the club, but their loyalty to each other was fierce.

Judd was walking with Warren Close, `Waz' to his friends and a man they knew had been tight with Decker, and both stared coldly as they moved toward them, heading for the bar. When they got closer Bruce finally spoke.

"Thought you boys would be out at Billy's?"

Judd smiled and it was a mockery of twisted lips as he turned to the bar. "I'm fuckin' everywhere." He motioned to the barkeeper who had obviously been educated earlier to have a drink waiting for him on demand, because he immediately produced a shot of bourbon.

Judd then turned and eyed Bruce and there was a thin, mean smile on his lips as he shot down his drink in one hit, putting the glass back, licking his lips and giving a satisfied laugh. The cold noise stopped just as suddenly as it had started and he leaned in closer to Bruce.

"I was plannin' on catchin' up with you boys… ya bring that murderin' dog back here too, or do I have ta wait like Waz here want's me to?"

Bruce's eyes narrowed as he looked at Warren, then back at Judd. "Ya gotta let it go, Lidlow, yer brother's –"

"Dead." Suddenly all pretence left Judd and he stepped up close to Bruce, a seething rage barely held in check. "He's dead. And ya know how he died?"

Again Bruce looked at both of the men, knowing how close they were to violence and prepared to face it head on, but it was Cheese who answered.

"The cops shot him, just like they did Keg, and Flea… and Vin caught one too," he reminded him.

Judd rounded on Cheese, a hand reaching out and poking him right in his throat.

"You know how Keg died? You really want to know? It wasn't a bullet that took him out. I saw the report. Right here," he tapped Cheese's windpipe hard for emphasis. "Right here's where Turner stabbed him, right here in the fuckin' neck."

Cheese took a step back and Judd turned again to Bruce, who was now past angry. "You tell me a cop did that – jist up an' stabbed him in the neck – I don't fuckin' think so! He killed Keg and he killed my brother!"

Bruce hadn't heard about the knife, but he defended Vin all the same. "Whatever happened between Decker and Vin was between the two of them. I never knew what the fuck yer brother's problem was but it ain't got nothin' ta do with you. An' I know, sure as I'm sittin' here, that Vin didn't kill him, even if Decker was out fer trouble that night."

Judd's eyes narrowed. "Not dead kind of trouble." He leant in even closer, his voice a heavy threat. "You sayin' he got what he deserved?"

Bruce's eyes narrowed in return. He'd had enough. He was starting to relish the thought of swinging a fist at the asshole. "I'm sayin' you back the fuck away from me."

Judd almost growled and Warren had to pull him back.

"Come on, later Judd. He'll get what's comin' to him, but not now. Come on!" he urged, tugging his friends arm.

Judd pulled out of his grip but took a step with Warren toward the door. He pointed a finger at Bruce's chest.

"You tell yer boy I said hello."

Bruce held his look as Judd backed to the door, turning and storming away but seeming to leave his tension behind to coat the room. Something caught Bruce's eye then and he looked to the stairs, thinking he'd seen someone there but finding only an empty space.

"He's gonna be trouble fer Vin," Cheese said needlessly, but Bruce just looked thoughtfully towards the stairs.

..

Back upstairs Vin closed his door and locked it again, moving to the bed and sitting down with a sigh. Part of him had wanted to confront Deckers brother then and there, but he knew he was in no shape for a fight, at least not yet. Still, the words he had overheard earlier came back to him. `…tonight. We'll let them do the work for us. It's better this way, trust me… I'm not waitin' longer than that… if it comes down to it, I'll take the bastard out myself and to hell with everyone.'

They had to have been talking about him and that must be the reason they were in the city and not out waiting with the rest of the club. Chances were they knew why they were in the city, that they knew all about the bust and setting up the cops.

`Let them do the work for us…'

Vin tried to sort through the possibilities, but one thing he did know for certain, Judd Lidlow was aiming to kill him and it sounded like he was planning to do it that night. Just who he had planned to help him do that was what he didn't know.

..

Chris was just leaving his office with Buck and Nathan in front of him when his cell phone rang.

"Larabee."

"Captain Larabee, Captain Martin here."

"Josh," Chris responded, having met the DEA task force captain several times before.

"I've been in touch with Murphy, Chris, he wanted me to call you direct. My team is in place out at the workshop. Whoever tipped you off, I think he was right. From what we've been able to determine, the shipment's sitting right in the centre of the building in the open. They're not expecting company on this one, but the place is still guarded tight enough to keep us back. We're going to sit tight unless we hear anything different from you guys."

Chris allowed a small smile. "Great news, let me know if anything changes." He hung up and looked at Nathan and Buck. "They've found the truck at the repair facility Tanner mentioned, they're sitting tight."

Buck grinned. "Well whadaya know, told you that boy would be a great part of the team, didn't I?"

Chris's brow shot up and Nathan rolled his eyes, just as they made to leave the office, only to be stopped by the phone on Chris's desk this time.

"I'll meet up with Josiah, see you downstairs," Nathan said, leaving them in the office.

"Bit late for a call to your office," Buck commented as Chris picked up his phone.

"Larabee."

"Captain Larabee, I'd say it's a pleasure but I'd be lyin'."

Chris quickly dismissed the Texan drawl as being Vin's and responded to the threatening tone by glancing at Buck, who saw the seriousness of his expression and went out to his desk to pick up the call and listen in.

Chris paused a moment and spoke as Buck picked up. "Who is this?"

"And I'd say a friend but again, I'd be lyin'."

The man was clearly enjoying himself.

"What do you want?"

"Somethin' we both want. At least one biker dead tonight."

Chris shook his head. "I don't want anyone dead."

There was a laugh on the other end of the line, cold and thin. "It's a bit late fer that, don't ya think? Tell that ta the ones ya killed in cold blood the other night."

Chris heard the venom behind the laughter. "Again, what do you want?"

"Don't fuckin' try an' be the man with me, Larabee, I'm doin' ya a favour here. After this, you'll owe me yer life."

Chris got a cold feeling in his stomach. "In that case, I don't want any favours."

Another laugh, then suddenly the voice went deadly cold, all trace of laughter gone as the tone fell. "Don't even try an' fuck with me, Larabee. I know where the hell ya live, I can take ya any time I want, ya got that?"

Chris played along. "Alright, I'm listening…"

"You better put someone on your car, someone's going to mess with it."

Chris began to pace beside his desk. "Who is this?"

The man ignored him, taunting him now. "Don't ya wanna know why there's a bomb with yer name on it? Don't ya wanna know who ya pissed off so bad that he wants ya dead?"

Chris shook his head, but obliged the madman. "Who?"

"Ya should've killed everyone that night, Larabee. That was sloppy, lettin' one of us go like that. Now ya got Vin Turner on yer tail, an' unless ya take him out first, he's gonna take ya down."

Chris was perplexed. "Why are you telling me this?" Obviously the man was a biker, judging by the `lettin' one of us go.' Why would he turn in one of his own men? What the hell was this guy's agenda?

"You watch your car, he'll come to you."

The call ended suddenly and for a long moment Chris could only stare at his phone. Who in the hell was that? He put the phone down and turned as Buck came back, thinking out loud. "Obviously Tanner's got enemies within the club. Someone's decided to turn on him and play with the other side just to see him get taken down." He paced the floor before turning back to Buck. "He's in trouble. They might not know he's one of us, but one person at least wants him taken out."

Buck thought about it, but his concern was for Chris, not a man he hardly knew, even if he was a member of their team. "I'll get the call traced, but it'll probably come back same as Tanners, phone booth in the middle of nowhere."

..

Vin gave up trying to get back to sleep after Judd and his friend had left and rather than wait for another wake up visit from Wallace, or something equally as friendly, he decided to go downstairs and see if the boys were all gathered together.

Pulling a t-shirt over his head slowly he sat on the edge of the decrepit, squeaking bed and mustered the effort to tug on his boots, harshly exhaling a grunt of pain that the position caused him as he leant forward. He wasn't feeling on top of the world, but he wasn't as bad as he'd felt when he'd laid down a few hours before either. The sore throat that had been threatening seemed to have abided at least.

He tied off his boots and with a last breath got up and made sure his gun was secure, pulling his grey t-shirt over it and pulling on his jacket once more. For a moment he simply looked at the closed door, preparing himself for the night ahead as he ran a hand through his tangled, but thankfully dry hair, pushing it back from his face with little patience. He would have to be as alert as he had ever been, not only for Larabee and his new team, but also for himself. Judd's promise of revenge was as real as they came.

The hallway was empty as he made his way back out of the room, not sorry to leave it behind as he found the stairs again in the dim light and walked down to the bar, his knee still not healing as fast as he would have liked. It needed some physio, or at least for him to make an effort to exercise and strengthen the strained and healing muscles that had been damaged, but it would have to wait until this was over, when it was over… but how long would that be he wondered? A day? A month? How long would it take to get to Billy now that he was so close? And would he have the patience that he needed now after so long?

"Hey Cinderella, nice of ya ta join us!" Bruce said, obviously more than a few beers down for the night.

Vin crossed the room, eyeing the dark corners until he was sure there was nothing lurking that might take him unawares. He took a stool next to both Bruce and Cheese, scanning the room again in the mirror before him and wondering where the bartender was. They seemed to have the entire place to themselves.

"They still not back?"

Cheese laughed. "They're on their way. Rizzo's givin' Ivan a lift… Or maybe it's the other way round." He laughed again and Vin knew there was a story behind it, merely raising a brow in question.

"Ivan called a while back, he can't get his bike goin', so Rizzo was gonna give him a lift, but he got so bored waitin' fer Ivan that he smoked the whole bag'a weed the bar guy gave him this mornin'." He laughed again. "Ivan said he ain't makin' much sense and he didn't wanna ride with him, but we couldn't be fucked goin' back out fer `em, so he's pissed at us now too."

Bruce swore then. "What the fuck does he expect, ridin' that piece'a shit? He should just sell it and be done with it. I'm sick'a waitin' while he breaks down every five fuckin' feet."

"He gets so pissed off when he works on it, Rizzo must be drivin' him nuts by now." Cheese was still laughing at the picture of the two of them riding back. Rizzo really had sounded a bit crazed.

"It's that hydro shit he smokes, gives me a headache," Bruce said, a pot smoker from way back and preferring his home-grown blends to the hydroponic concoctions flooding the streets today.

"That shit the guy gave him didn't look right, neither," Cheese said, sobering up for a moment as he thought about the plastic packet Rizzo had shown him. "Had a kind'a purple, powdery fuzz on it, all head an' hairy as all fuck."

Vin's brow arched up at that. Hairy, powdery, purple weed didn't sound right to him either, but he was beyond the conversation, eyeing off the beer tap once more when Bruce again spoke to him.

"Ya had a visitor… said ta tell ya hello."

Vin had the uncomfortable impression that Bruce was trying to gauge his reaction.

"Yeah?" was all he said.

"Judd Lidlow, Decker's brother."

He looked at Bruce then, but kept his face carefully neutral. "What'd he want?"

"Yer head, on a plate," was the blunt reply.

There was no humour in his voice and Vin flicked a glance at Cheese in the mirror, seeing that he looked

uncomfortable. They had obviously had words about the situation. He should have stuck around to hear what they'd said after Judd had left.

"I thought he might," he said carefully, wanting to play it down as if he didn't care.

"We told him the cops were the ones ta blame, but he said the knife in Keg's throat begged ta differ." He paused for effect. "He's sayin' it was you."

Vin looked back at the beer tap, thinking over his next words even as he continued to feel Bruce's eyes scrutinising him.

"We told him he was nuts," Cheese cut in. "We all know Decker was out ta get ya that night." He lowered

his voice, looking around the room, even though there was no-one there but them. Even the bartender had

disappeared and they'd had to get their own drinks for the last hour. "If ya did kill that prick, I can understand it." He was giving Vin his support.

Vin looked away from the trust in Cheese's eyes. It was easy for people to see what he did in black and white, but sometimes the line that he had to cross became a blur. In moments like these, he just felt low. He tried to remind himself that the look in Cheese's eyes right then, the unquestioning loyalty he was giving him, meant that he was doing his job well… but it wasn't working. One thing he had in his favour, he really hadn't killed Decker, that was one thing he could be honest about, and so he looked back at them, his eyes showing sincerity.

"I know I had a reason ta kill that bastard, two reason's actually, but it wasn't me. I don't know what the cops wrote it up as, but it wasn't me `threw that knife an I wasn't armed anyways." Vin was silent a long moment before his voice came again, softer, but so much more deadlier. "An' any bastard says I killed Keg is gonna get their own knife to the throat."

Bruce took a gulp of his beer and took a final look at Vin's face before reaching out and pouring himself another glass. He knew there was no way Vin would do anything to harm Keg, the two had known each other forever, since way before he'd come to the club. He sat back and Vin saw that he looked satisfied with his words as he shook his head, "Can't believe the cops in this town. They really stuck him like that? Right in the throat?"

Vin appeared to concentrate, in reality pushing the image of Nathan out of his mind. These weren't normal cops, he wanted to tell them. "'Came from over m'shoulder, behind me… can't say I know which of `em threw it, there was a whole lot goin' down and I was tryin'a get m'ass clear of the gunfire. Once I saw everyone was down I knew they were all dead, there weren't much to do but get the hell outta there. `Sides," he added, "I's bleedin' all over the place." Again he eyed the beer, wanting to change the subject, fast. "God I need a beer…"

Bruce grinned at that, "Now that I can help ya with!" he reached out over the bar counter, grabbed a glass and poured a beer. "Cheers," he said, putting it in front of Vin, who held it in his hands longingly.

"What's stoppin' you?" Cheese asked him, seeing his hesitation, and Vin was happy he'd diverted the conversation for the time being.

"All those pills the doc gave me, told me not to drink with `em. I already feel like shit as it is."

"Well then ya can't feel no worse!" Cheese reasoned with a grin.

Just then the doors creaked open and a familiar voice reached them.

"Ye fuckin' tool, I told ye, an' I told ye not tae smoke all that shite! Ye nearly fuckin' kilt us both!"

They each turned on their stools to face the door and watched as Ivan came in, drenched to the bone and dragging a sick looking Rizzo along behind him, who despite the green tinge to his skin was still grinning a weak grin.

"Bit a' trouble there, Ivan?" Bruce asked, lighting a cigarette and shaking his head with a half grin as he saw Rizzo pause in mid step and stare at them as if he didn't know them.

Ivan scowled and looked again at Rizzo, who found that suddenly amusing and laughed a heartfelt, yet completely silent laugh that had him bending over and clutching his stomach. Ivan's scowl deepened but then he realised the rest of them were laughing and as suddenly as he'd been about to curse, a chuckle escaped him. It had been a long, nightmare of a day for him, but at least he was in a dry place now and could get warm - and he'd made it back alive which was a bonus. He'd had to leave his bike at the shop and ride Rizzo's back, but the fool had nearly toppled from the seat behind him many times, unable to grasp the concept of hanging on.

He shook his head at him, but actually did sympathise with his plight. It wasn't the first time one of them had taken something that had messed them up proper. "Fuckin' idiot," he said, again shaking his head, "smokin' all that shite." He looked at the others. "Did ye no see it? Purple an' hairy?" he shook his head again at Rizzo. "Ah'm goin' fer a hot shower, then ah'll be back fer a pint or three." He started to turn, eyed the untouched beer in Vin's hands and suddenly reached out for it, grabbed it and sculled it before Vin could blink, patting his stomach. "Ahh… nowah'm goin' upstairs."

They watched him walk off and Vin looked down into his empty glass. That took care of that.

Just then Bruce had a brainstorm as he stared at the unresponsive Rizzo, who was now staring into space again.

"I think I know how to bring Rizzo `round." He went to find the pack he'd brought in off his bike, knowing Wallace would be snuggled somewhere inside. He chuckled to himself just at the thought of putting it in front of Rizzo in the state he was in. Wallace would teach him a lesson alright...

Vin watched Bruce wander off to find his pet spider then looked over at the unsuspecting Rizzo, who had headed for a seat in the corner to sit by himself. Whatever he'd smoked, purple and furry or otherwise, it was beyond a normal high he was having, it was obviously laced with something else because he looked like he was tripping.

Cheese looked a little concerned. "You know, Bruce, he doesn't look too good. He kind of reminds me of Lui that night we found him in his room..."

"He'll be fine, besides that wasn't weed that did that to Lui."

"It doesn't look like just weed that's doing this to Rizzo either," he argued. He turned to Vin. "You hear about Lui?"

Vin shook his head.

"When we found him he'd made a circle around himself with all his girlfriends shoes for protection, all the heels pointed out. He reckoned that they turned on him and were trying to kill him cos they were possessed. He'd been there for a whole day fucked up and too scared too move."

Vin looked again at Bruce now approaching Rizzo with Wallace in his hands, thinking for a moment he should try and stop him, but then his eyes strayed to a clock up on the wall. Eleven o'clock. Nearly time to go and here he was sitting with these three. Two of them were half pissed and one was senseless in the corner, communicating now to what could only be a plastic plant. God help him… he was looking forward to the day that he could be a part of an organised bust from the other side again.

..

Billy heard his phone ring and quickly pushed Suzy off his lap into an ungracious heap on the couch. She protested with a slight sound but got up and straightened her clothes without comment as she watched him head over to his desk to take the call.

"Yeah?"

"It's Jake."

"Well?"

"He didn't come through."

"What the hell do you mean he didn't come through?!" Jake gripped the phone so tight his hand hurt, the rings on his right hand digging into his skin.

"I mean he didn't come through the border that way. He either didn't come at all or he lied about the route he was takin'."

"Maybe you just missed him."

"No, no chance. I think… maybe somethin's up…"

Billy felt a panic rise in his lungs. No way could Eddie have known what he'd planned. No way... "Wait a second," he told Jake, looking up at Suzy with a scowl. "Get out."

Suzy held his look for a second, wishing he could feel every inch of her loathing for him, wanting to go and grab the letter opener she could see on his desk and stab him with it, stick it into his eye and watch as he struggled to pull it out. Maybe she'd stick it in both eyes… but all of these thoughts she took with her as she tidied her skirt, zipped it up and headed out the door without so much as a glance back. His time was coming, besides, that hadn't sounded like good news. Poor Billy. That brought a slight smile to her lips as she walked away, meeting Sugar's eyes as he passed her out in the entranceway.

Most people were unnerved by the giant man and given his role within the club, she wasn't surprised, but he had never bothered her. In fact, she had almost convinced herself that sometimes there was a kindness in his eyes when he looked at her. Then again, not having much experience with that particular human quality, she couldn't really be sure.

Sugar continued past her, giving her a small nod but not looking back as he reached Billy's door and knocked. She had no idea how his face hardened when she could no longer see his expression, how one thought always plagued him whenever he looked at her. Good God how she looked like her mother…

"Not now!" came the shout from inside.

Sugar scowled and looked at his watch. 11.30pm. He'd just learned that Billy had sent Vin out to take care of the ATF Captain and was pissed off as hell about it. What Billy did in his territory was his business, but involving his boys was another matter entirely. And what the hell had Vin been thinking, riding out again in the condition he was in, giving him no word? He felt like shooting the kid himself.

"I need to speak with you," he called to the closed door.

"Damn you I told you, not now!"

Sugar's eyes narrowed at the door. For a moment he considered kicking it in. Despite the thick wood it was made from, he was fairly certain he could do it. There was something going on in there that gave him a bad feeling. More and more Billy seemed to be forgetting the union of the brotherhood, running his chapter as if it were his own private club. That was why Eddie was coming out for the funeral, why he felt it necessary to check up on what Billy was doing up here with his men. Now he was glad that Eddie had made that decision, for there was definitely something going on that they needed to know about.

He'd just had a call from his old friend and President and what he'd had to say had disturbed him enough to bring him to Billy's door. Eddie had changed course just shy of the border. The police scanner they used had picked up on talk of bikers waiting near the entry they were going to take into the state and they had mentioned the Joker's patch being sighted. Nobody was supposed to be out that way, Billy had not given any word that he was sending a crew to meet him and his men. Everyone knew that due to his criminal records, he was not allowed to travel freely out of Texas, so why would Billy draw attention to him by sending out men? Unless he was up to no good.

Sugar turned from the door, cursing Billy's volatile moods as his eyes found Suzy, surprised to see that she was still there, watching him whilst his expression had been unguarded.

"Somethin' I can help you with?" she asked him and to his dismay he realised there was a calculating glint in her eye.

"Darlin', what you got's too good fer the like's a me."

Suzy cocked her head at that, her sly smile falling from her lips as she realised he had meant what he'd said. Then suddenly angry at the confusion he caused her, she shrugged. "Whatever you say…" she started to walk off, turning her head and looking at him slyly "… but I don't think you'll be gettin Billy to go anywhere `til he finishes that mighty important call…" she paused, one brow arched in a perfect gesture, before winking slowly and walking away.

Sugar felt his stomach clench. Stupid girl, playing games like that could get her killed. She'd never done it before, why the hell was she starting now? He looked again at the closed door, hearing Billy's low voice coming from within, obviously deep in conversation before he turned back to watch Suzy's graceful figure glide away. What did she know about that call?

..

"You realise this could all go to hell. Do you even consider the chance, however remote you might think it to be, that I was right and Tanner is setting us up?"

Chris frowned at the sound of Buck's voice beside him. It was the second time Buck had voiced the thought since they had arrived and taken their positions. Their job tonight was not to seize the truck, that was going to be up to the explosives team who were right then taking their positions around the empty bay area, ready to move once the dummy shipment arrived. They needed it to look like they hadn't been tipped off.

Chris frowned at that thought. It was a complex situation, but all he could do now was focus on the job ahead, watch for the bikers and protect the explosives team, until the area was secure. And of course, if Vin did show and there was a confrontation, they needed to make it look authentic. They wanted to give Martin's team time to seize the real shipment without giving away the game.

They had a lot to deal with right then, so Buck insisting on being the voice of doom was starting to grate on Chris's nerves.

"I just think somethings not right, I can feel it, Chris."

Chris tried to make light of the situation. "That your animal instinct talkin' again?"

"Animal instinct, gut instinct, all a part of what makes me so damn special."

"Special all right," they heard JD say in their earpieces, obviously wanting a part of the banter to relieve his

nervousness.

Chris and Buck exchanged a glance, the kid had been nervous before they'd left, but had managed to control his excitement. He was finally going to see some action, whatever part he was to play in it. It was what he had wanted since the first day the government had recruited him from the top of his class.

"Don't start kid, the night's just beginnin', ya got a long way to keep up with me."

"Yeah, JD, the old guy's vitamin's are probably kickin' in about now, you'll never go the distance up against him."

Buck scowled at Chris, even though it was Nathan who had spoken. "Ouch Nathan, and you're supposed to be the healer of the bunch…"

Nathan grinned at Josiah, only meters from where he was positioned behind a wide stretch of hedged fencing, further blocked from the concrete wall of the warehouse and truck bay that sat before them by stacked, empty wooden pallets. "I am Buck, but I like to help the underdog whenever I can."

"Hey, I ain't the underdog!" JD could see Nathan's back from where he was, perched on the roof of a nearby long-haul truck as he was, but he could not see Chris or Buck.

They were positioned at the rear of the Empire Warehouse, the massive plot of land covered several blocks and the bay where they had been told they would find the truck was right toward the back in an apparently vacated section. The land was bordered by a high barbed wire fence that backed onto acres of bush land, dense and thick in its cover of foliage and trees. That was how they had entered, by cutting through the fence from the adjacent land. Josiah had procured the plans of the area and with Murphy's first team, they had mapped out their course of infiltration closely.

In all, there were three teams waiting with them, all from the DEA and under Murphy's direct command. They had enough men to take out a small army, should they need it and according to Vin, they probably would. Murphy had instructed his men that there was an undercover agent with the bikers, should they see them. It was a risk telling the men about Vin, but a necessary one. These were men that he trusted, that he knew personally, so he was confident that the information would go no further.

Ezra had checked in and as Chris had figured, he had gone to try and get to Vlahov before the bikers could. He hadn't found him though and Chris knew he felt responsible for the man, criminal though he was. Whilst he couldn't convince Ezra to go home he had insisted that the still injured agent stay back and wait for news on Vlahov. The man had disappeared and they had no idea where he was. Concern for his safety now that the club knew he had turned on them was paramount and Chris didn't want to take any chances with Ezra, who had been frustrated at the order, but knew finding Vlahov was a priority to the case.

"OK, quiet boys," Chris said, getting a signal from Murphy's first team leader that there was activity up ahead.

"Truck coming in through the west gate," they heard Murphy communicate and settled themselves in as their

adrenaline began to pump.