The ties that bind 3, p.39
The Ties That Bind 3, page 39
part #3 of The Ties That Bind Series
“You heard as much as I did.” The agent betrayed no emotion as they walked.
It was the longest fifteen minutes of Nick’s life. His mind was fried as numerous scenarios of how it could all end played out, making him dizzy. When they returned, Agent Reddick was waiting for them with a stormy expression and a set of keys in his hands.
“Did you find my mother?! How is she?! Is she alive??”
“We found her alright. Let’s go.”
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Lorelai’s speech was impeded by her clenched teeth.
“I did what I had to do,” Cosima answered, unbothered by the hostility oozing from Director Shore and Agent Fitzgerald.
“And what, exactly did you think you had to do that we weren’t equipped to handle?!”
Lorelai was fighting the urge to leap across the coffee table and box the old bitch. She’d stolen her moment of glory, her life’s work up to that point. She’d wanted to see Barerra’s face when he was finally captured and by whom. The look on Director Shore’s face was identical and slightly comical thanks to his lobster-red shade.
“I had to reclaim my power and save my son’s life!” Cosima retorted. “Your way was merely a stepping stone to my freedom. It held no guarantee of retaliation from Barerra and Peña! I don’t have to remind you how long and relentless their reach is! You can’t always protect us.”
She gave a bitter chuckle. “My way gets everyone involved what they want.”
Lorelai and Shore exchanged a puzzled look. “Which is?”
Cosima shook her head. “I talk only when I see my Nico. Get him here. Immediately.”
She didn’t have to wait long. The commotion outside of the door and her son shouting for her had Cosima faint with relief. Lorelai rolled her eyes and went to open the door before Nick kicked it down.
“Quit all that hollering and get your ass in here, Olente!”
“Mitéra!” Nick shoved past Director Shore, his eyes sweeping over Cosima, narrowing on her blood-splattered hair and face. Despite her appearance, her eyes were radiant. “What happened to you? Are you okay?!”
“I’m fine, Nico.” Cosima grabbed his hand and pressed it to her cheek. “I’m even better now that I’ve seen you. Please don’t be mad at me for lying.”
“Why did you do that?”
Shore supplied the answer with a disgruntled sneer. “Because she wanted to kill Barerra herself.”
Startled by such an outlandish response, Nick’s gaze swung back to her, expecting his mother to deny it.
“Is that true, Mitéra?”
Cosima thrust her chin out defiantly. “After I found out what you were doing to earn his trust, I knew that couldn’t continue. I’ve endured a lot to protect you but that…” Her lips compressed in disgust. “You never belonged in this world, Nico, and he was dragging you, slowly but surely, further into this evil madness. It would have overpowered your life even more than it already has. Your papa wouldn’t have wanted that for you. He died because of me, and I owed it to Enrique to keep you out of it.”
She bestowed a frigid look on Lorelai and Director Shore. “It’s a promise I intend to keep. Are you ready to deal?”
Four hours later
“Congratulations on a job well done.”
Shore offered his hand to Lorelai, and she shook it.
“Thank you, sir. There were a few hiccups that I wish—”
“I’ll stop you right there. None of this would have been possible without you.” He gave her an appraising stare. “Hell of a job, agent. Now, I have to touch base with my bosses and prepare my brief statement to the press. Get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be even more intense, and I want you by my side.”
“I’ll be there with bells on, sir.” Lorelai hesitated briefly. “About Glover…”
Shore stiffened and he took his wire-framed glasses off and cleaned them with the edge of his shirt. “He won’t be a problem. I anticipate losing his respect with my decision; however, every agent, current and retired, should be rejoicing right now. This was a big win for law enforcement everywhere. This is what we signed up for and why we do the job—to get this scum off the streets. Understood?”
Cosima’s deal included a new identity and U. S. citizenship. She and Nick were free to live their lives as they pleased. The women that were held captive were to be given new identities as well if they wanted. Cosima planned to anonymously cut them checks to assist in giving them a fresh start. Benito would be named as the informant. Barerra refused to be taken alive and died in a shootout. After the specifics were hammered out, Cosima crossed the study to the desk that had originally belonged to Enrique and pressed a button underneath it. The floor-to-ceiling bookshelf on the left wall slid open to reveal the room that Barerra had installed. He’d been precisely bookkeeping the cartel’s activities and recording his interactions with the kingpin. Tomorrow, Shore was spearheading a meeting between U.S. agencies and the federales to infiltrate the Lacandón jungle and seize Peña’s compound. Reinforcements were arriving as they spoke.
“Yes, sir. Before I go, I’m going to oversee…that other thing.”
Shore barked an exasperated laugh. “Jesus, these people! Make it quick, though.”
“Sir, with all due respect, this has been decades in the making,” Lorelai defended.
Jared remained uncompromising. “Then she should have given specifics on it. Finally, I can have a damn say about something around here.”
Lorelai led Nick down to the basement.
“I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure doing business with you, but the two of you have been complete pains in my ass the entire day! You went off script and made me look like an incompetent idiot! Granted, thanks to your mother, it’s like a smorgasbord of intel to pick and choose from and utilize,” she acknowledged sourly, causing Nick to smile.
Producing the keys Cosima had provided her with from Barerra’s safe, Lorelai unlocked the door. She screwed the silencer on her piece and handed it to Nick.
“Make it quick.”
“Like hell, I will.” He stepped in the room and smiled at the sight of Benito, chained by his wrists and ankles to the wall. Nick lifted the weapon and pointed it directly at him. It was steady in his hands and as hard and unforgiving as his current mood. The demand for vengeance burned bright in his soul. “Hello, old friend.”
Dark eyes landed on the gun in his hand. “You fucking pussy! You don’t have the guts to—”
The bodyguard screamed as four bullets landed consecutively in his elbows and kneecaps.
“How’d my fucking pussy-ass do? Did I pass, motherfucker?” Nick was more than a little pleased with his results. It really wasn’t bad for a novice. Of course, this close up, he’d have to be a complete idiot to miss.
Benito’s head fell forward, his harsh groans filling the room.
“I don’t know about him, but I’m giving you two thumbs up,” Lorelai said.
“Thanks, but I’m barely scratching the surface.” He unscrewed the silencer and handed it to her. “I won’t be needing this.”
“It’s very loud without it.”
“Not for what I’m doing.” Nick raised his arm. “Viva Enrique Olente!” he whispered reverently.
Lorelai flinched at the crack when the gun handle shattered Benito’s cheekbone. Nick’s handsome face was warped in his quest for retribution. Hating to see him like that, she averted her head while listening. For the next five minutes, that mantra was followed by the sounds of Benito’s bones crunching and snapping. She knew the deed was done when he thrust the bloody gun at her. With a grimace, Lorelai took it and wiped it off on her tactical pants before reholstering it.
“Feel better?”
“Much.”
“You were a fucking beast in there! Nice job.”
Nick winked at her. “That’s not the first time I’ve heard either of those things.”
Lorelai smirked at his newfound confidence. “Oh, now you wanna talk shit!”
“I’d be more than happy to return the favor and show you how much,” he responded in a velvety voice she’d never heard before, his look steady and unflinching.
She fought the heat suffusing her face. “Ha! There might just be hope for you yet, baby boy. Now go on; get outta here.”
He stood there for a moment, scratching the back of his neck and decided to keep things simple. He opened his arms and Lorelai walked into them. Nick squeezed her tight.
“Thanks, friend. For everything. You’ve given me and my mother a new lease on life.”
“Make sure you don’t squander it. One favor, though?”
“What’s that?”
“When you leave here for good, forget you ever met me. I want you to leave everything in your past and start anew.”
Nick’s face reflected her sadness too. With a heavy exhale, he pressed a kiss to her temple.
“I’d hate to but for you, I will. Take care and learn to trust a little more, Lorelai Fitzgerald.”
“Maybe I will. Here’s some advice for you, Nick Olente. Go get the girl if you want her that much. Fuck him.”
He laughed at that. “Thanks. I’m going to focus on getting my mother settled into her new life for now. She’s my main priority. Her and removing the cartel brand from my back.”
Nick didn’t mention that he was now considering withdrawing his notice to Famon. He did have a lot going on, but he wasn’t entirely ready to let go of his daily Billy fix just yet.
“Then I wish you the best of luck.”
“Same to you, Lorelai.”
The night of the ambush
Tank died a hero.
Registering the truck barreling full speed toward the compound, the prospect followed protocol and stepped on the silent alarm underneath his chair. It activated the alarm system in every residence and the barracks. The women and children instinctively knew to go to the clubhouse and use the secret tunnel to escape. Regrettably, the building was located at the back of the compound. When the missiles hit, those who had tried to flee didn’t make it and were slain. There was barely enough time to reach the secret door underneath the picnic style table in the kitchen.
Only thirty-seven people survived—Deke, Jester, a few other members, including a couple of prospects, and the rest were women and children. Blaze heard the missile hit the clubhouse just as he shut the door and bolted it, sealing them in blackness in the eight-foot-wide by twelve-feet high-finished corridor. The children were hysterical. They were terrified and crying, coughing uncontrollably from smoke inhalation while the women attempted to console and quiet them.
Blaze’s eyes misted at seeing their fear. Hours earlier, they’d been running around, laughing and playing, carefree in the compound’s common area before bedtime.
“Deke! Jester! Talk to me!”
Keys rattled and metal clanged against metal. Finally, a light shone in Blaze’s face.
“We’re good!” Jester called out.
More lights appeared as flashlights were dispersed. An injury check was performed, and the first-aid kit was produced to tend to cuts and scrapes.
Lucy flashed her light on the metal cabinet and took stock of the inventory and wanted to weep with gratitude. “God bless you, Claudia!”
Her sister-friend had stocked the hidden compound with enough essentials to supply an army. Unsure of how long they’d be down there, they grabbed the water jugs, electrolytes, snacks, first-aid kits, over-the-counter-pain relievers, feminine products, batteries, Kleenex, toothbrushes, toothpaste, toilet paper, and deodorant.
Blaze unlocked the cabinet next to it and passed out assault rifles with rounds of ammunition first to the men and then the women he knew could lock, load, and let loose.
“Listen up, people. We’ve got two miles to cover. I want sentry at every half-mile point, so look for the marker. No one coming through that door is a friend. This is survival of the fittest, and the shit is self-explanatory. You shoot to kill or be killed.”
Deke looked at him grimly. “Did you hear any word beforehand?”
Blaze’s mouth flatlined, and his one-word answer was clipped and angry. “No.”
“He was sleeping it off at Flex,” Jester answered roughly.
The air was somber as everyone looked around, restless with questions of where their fearless leader was in their time of need. The days of running a tight ship had disappeared along with Claudia and Ransom. The Immortals had a code they used to live by, but lately the standards had been lowered or nonexistent. Their president was hurting and so were they. Instead of sticking together through thick and thin, and rising above shit for his people, Slade ignored everyone’s issues to save his own. Selfish as always. He hadn’t been on the right path for so long that Blaze wondered why he still gave a damn about him.
With no signal underground to make calls, there was no way of knowing Slade’s whereabouts or condition. Blaze knew Lucy was looking at him, but she wisely held her tongue. If they were alone, she wouldn’t hesitate to rip Slade a new one for his behavior. Worry for this entire group sat hard in his gut, making him answer brusquely, “We won’t know shit if we continue to stand here with our thumbs up our asses. Let’s go.”
They trekked silently to their destination. When they arrived, Blaze signaled for them to fall back from the door and flipped the lid on the peephole. His eyes carefully roved, scanning the surroundings for any signs of life. Blaze felt like a pussy-ass rodent waiting to show his head so a goddamn fox could pounce. Surmising that the coast was clear, he ventured out to check the perimeter. He hoped to clear his mind with some fresh air, to make sense of this madness, except, the air was tainted. Death held it hostage. Blaze cried like a baby at seeing the only home he’d ever known reduced to a bonfire glowing in the distance. In the opposite direction, toward town, there was a similar scene playing out and his heart shattered. Blaze’s intuition was screaming that Slade hadn’t fared well. Karma’s recent appearance in his best friend’s life had made sure the odds were firmly stacked against him.
His calls to Slade went unanswered. Mitchell was next, and he promised to be there by morning with the cavalry. Blaze’s last call went to Shakes, and he trembled as the phone rang. He wasn’t a deeply religious man, so the jumbled heartfelt thanks he sent up would have to do. The boy would have been with Tawny at her trailer when the ambush hit. The residence had been closest to the truck, but because Shakes was out of town, Tawny had been hanging with Blaze, Lucy, Deke, Jester, and their old ladies at the clubhouse.
“Hello?”
Blaze sank to his knees in the dark, uncaring of reptiles or spiders that he couldn’t see and bit back his tears. The vibrancy in his son’s voice reminded him that there was still life to be lived and that it could never be taken for granted again.
“Son, I want you to know that I love you so fucking much!” he growled. “Don’t you ever forget that shit, okay?”
Shakes chuckled. “How could you not? I’m irresistible! You know I love you too, Pops. What’s up?” His voice shifted into baby talk. “Is my big ol’ papa bear missing me, huh? Want me to sing you a lullaby?”
A rendition of “Rock A Bye Baby” being growled by a supposed bear, filled his ear. At that point, Blaze would normally be wondering how to tighten the loose screws in his crazy son’s head. Tonight, he was just too damned happy to care. He swiped his forearm across his face, cleared his throat, and allowed Lucas to sing-growl his heart out before he had to tear his world apart.
Thirty-six hours in…
“What the fuck are we missing?!” Blaze shouted.
“I’m thinking military training. These fuckers didn’t miss shit,” Deke said coldly. “We were running, and I could hear the clipped, precise shots.”
“Mercenaries maybe?” Jester mused.
“Shiiid, it couldn’t have been bikers. When we go to the trouble of fucking shit up, we let you know we did it. We want the fucking credit,” Shakes joked wanly, attempting to lighten the mood.
The remaining Immortals and their family were cooped-up in a safe house and feeling antsy. The structure was a three-thousand square foot abandoned horse ranch ten minutes outside of Albuquerque that Mitchell had his sister’s stepdaughter purchase. They were laying low until they found out who was responsible. It was mutually agreed that it was best to let everyone think they had perished for the time being. Shakes and Ransom were the exception, of course. They were free to interact with authorities and accept condolences on the chapter’s behalf.
“We need to figure this out and fast,” Ransom said. “We’re under intense scrutiny from FBI, ATF, DEA, and local law enforcement out there. They’re sniffing so far up MC ass that they know our shitting schedule by heart.”
He crossed his arms and surveyed the men in the room, except for Shakes. His best friend already knew where he was going with the conversation. “This might be the unpopular opinion here, but I’m having Rage look into this. It’s too big a problem to keep in house, and we needed results the night it happened. We need to restore stability in order to properly bury and mourn for the ones that we’ve lost then get justice for them.”
His words were met with silence. Ransom knew they were thinking of Slade and how he’d feel about his wife’s lover, a former undercover agent who’d in a sense betrayed them, assisting in the investigation. Despite Blaze, Deke, and Jester’s unyielding denials, Ransom remained unconvinced that he wasn’t the nucleus of the problem. Since learning of his brutal murder, he kept waiting to feel something about his death—happiness, relief, anger, sadness, anything—but his emotional plug had been pulled. Ransom felt nothing for the man who sired him. His only interest was in doling out some personal justice and getting the club back on its feet. He couldn’t move forward until they did.
He hoped his brothers were big enough men to acknowledge that this was greater than loyalty and cast their pride away to do the right thing. Life had kicked them in the fucking teeth and grabbed them by balls. It was coming at them hard and fast from every direction and trying to break them down. The intense scrutiny from law enforcement agencies scrutinizing them as if they were villains instead of victims had the Immortals itching to fight.
