Bash, Volume II Read online

  But Brain was right — Angelica didn’t need to be home alone tonight. “Fuck. What’s the game plan?”

  “Angelica wants me to be sure Pickering didn’t plant a bug. I’ll arrive with you and do a sweep for electronics. As far as I know, nothing else is planned.”

  “You’re too calm,” said Dozer.

  “No, I’m not. I can’t take all three of you on at once. Plus, I like my desk. I start fighting you, it’ll get destroyed. I’ve told you I need to fight someone.”

  “So why don’t we see if Dawg can hang out at Angelica’s while you go to Ringgold.”

  I shook my head. “No. I told her I’d be there as quick as I could. Send the video to my computer so I can watch it on a bigger screen. If I can’t beat the shit out of someone, we at least need a game plan.”

  In a Pack, the Alpha can override a wolf’s temper and force him, or her, to be calm. Should the Alpha be close to losing it, the Pack can work together to help the Alpha calm down. It takes most of the pack working together to do it, but it’s a nice safety mechanism.

  Lone wolves have to hold onto our tempers, our wolves, our humanity. Duke isn’t our Alpha, he’s our President, and he can’t force us to do anything with his will alone. We have control of our lives and our willpower — our choices and actions are our own, but this means we must actually control ourselves.

  So, I went through the video again, watched Pickering’s facial expressions, his body language, listened to the tone of his voice. I studied it objectively and locked my emotions down until I couldn’t feel anything.

  “He can make life difficult for the MC as a whole, and for you in particular, if you give him reason to hate you.” Brain’s voice was soft, matter of fact. He wasn’t warning me, wasn’t suggesting I act one way or another, merely pointing out a fact.

  “Yeah. I like Princess’s idea of destroying him politically.” Because once he no longer had power, beating the shit out of him without going to jail became a possibility. Brain didn’t need to know the last part, though.

  “Me too, but let’s look at it as a long game. In the meantime, what do you need to do here, before you can go to her place?”

  “Ya’ll hang out somewhere else. I’ll meet you in ten minutes.”

  “They’ll hang out with Slick. I’ll chill out on your sofa,” Brain said with another smirk.

  I rolled my eyes, made a few phone calls, and put my laptop in the safe, which Brain had rigged so if anyone got into it without the proper authorizations, an electro-magnetic pulse destroyed all electronics inside.

  We parked a block away from Angelica’s apartment and Dawg was waiting for us as we pulled into the lot. Tiny and Dozer came, too, but I didn’t argue. If I saw Pickering they’d help keep me from killing him.

  A woman was getting groceries out of her car and trying to deal with a toddler as we came through the parking lot, and she looked at us with fear. I looked to Brain, and he nodded and walked to her, stopping about two parking spaces away to tell her, “Ma’am, we’re here visiting someone who just moved in, but you look like you have your hands full. I can help you with your groceries, if you’d like.”

  She looked at him with fear, and the rest of us walked towards Angelica’s apartment. He’d do better on his own. I’m told bikers tend to be scarier in groups than alone, and Brain could charm the pants off any woman. He didn’t do it anymore, but didn’t mean he wasn’t still capable.

  Bottom line, though, if we scared the residents and they complained, Angelica might get kicked out for bringing unwanted visitors to the complex. We needed to make friends with the residents — make them feel safe with us around, not scared.

  Dawg went ahead of me, as if he were making sure Pickering wasn’t waiting around the corner. He knocked on Angelica’s door, but when she opened it I was the first in. I pulled her to the side of the door, wrapped my arms around her, and held her head to my chest as I smelled the top of her head.

  “I got it from here, guys. Thanks,” Dawg told the two huge enforcers, and they grunted and left.

  “Brain let you watch it, didn’t he?” she whispered in my ear, and I remembered she was paranoid he’d planted a bug.

  “Yeah, he wanted me to see it and deal with it before I saw you again. He’s makin’ friends with a neighbor, helpin’ her carry groceries. Should be here in a minute.”

  “Not scaring the neighbors is good.” She pulled her head away and looked at Dawg. “Thanks for coming. There’s beer in the fridge, if you want to grab some for the three of you.”

  He glanced at me first, making sure I was good with him making himself at home in my Princess’s apartment. I gave a tiny nod and he went to the kitchen.

  When Brain arrived, he found two bugs — one under the table, where Pickering had sat to eat, and one plugged into an outlet behind the dresser in the bedroom. Pickering had gone to the bathroom while Angelica was cooking, and he must’ve made a detour to plug it in.

  Brain made sure we saw them, and told us, “Just got a text from Duke. He’s recommending we pull Angelica back to the compound.”

  I nodded — if we planned it right we could use these bugs to our advantage. I hoped Angelica understood what he was saying and went along with it, and I looked at her with caution because I could smell rage and frustration coming off her in waves. The teenage Angelica would’ve started ranting and raving, but the adult Angelica merely said, “Fuck, fuck, fuckity-fuck. Shit. I’ll pack for one more night.”

  Chapter Six

  Bash

  Brain sent the message out through the new Rolling Thunder app, letting the top people know to come to church, now.

  Angelica insisted on leaving her bag in her car when we arrived. I wanted her in my room, but the club hadn’t voted her unsupervised access and she didn’t want her things where she couldn’t go.

  I left her in the main clubhouse room to go into the chapel.

  “Settin’ off the pulse,” Brain said as he closed the door, and we all just looked at him. The rule was no cellphones or other electronics in church, and he set off an electromagnetic pulse before every meeting, so if someone brought something in, it’d be wiped and killed. Not many people knew it, but the doorway getting into the outer room was narrower than normal because there was a bug sweeper in the frame, and he’d be alerted if anyone wore a wire, or anything else.

  I heard and felt the pulse. Humans didn’t, and not all wolves did, but it always felt wrong to me. I understood the need for it, but I hated the way it made me feel. I suppressed my shudder, though. No one needed to know I could feel it.

  “I’m going to bring a laptop in because there’s some video ya’ll need to see,” Brain told the group. “Then we’re going to have a short discussion and a vote or two, and then we’ll bring Angelica in and have some more discussion.”

  Brain paused the video to show Pickering putting the bug under the table while Angelica flipped burgers, and Brain told them what we’d found. He also pointed out Pickering was about to go to the bathroom, where he’d plant a longer term outlet-bug in the bedroom. Neither of the DA’s bugs had video — they were only audio.

  “She spoke to the video after he left. We don’t know if he turned the bugs on before he left, or if he started the recording once he returned to his apartment, so we have no way of knowing whether he’s aware his talk with her was recorded.”

  “But he doesn’t know we’re aware of the bugs he planted?”

  Brain shook his head. “No, and we’ll need to involve Angelica in whatever plan we come up with to use the bugs, which is why we’ll be bringing her down in a little bit. Meanwhile, she’ll be staying the night here, and Bash wants her to have access to the back of the clubhouse so she can freely come and go to his room.”

  I looked to Dozer. I didn’t know why he had a problem with her, but he’d voted against her for everything so far, and access to the back of the clubhouse had to be unanimous for everyone who had a room back there. A single vote could keep her out.
“Dozer, I vouch for her. She’s mine, and she needs access. If you vote against her, I’ll be staying at a hotel with her.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll abstain from voting, but I want to go on record as saying those of you who knew her when she was a kid are still seeing the kid, and not the woman.”

  “Promise you, Brother,” I told him, “I’m seeing the woman. Gettin’ away from her dad and bein’ on her own was good for her.”

  Duke called a vote and she was given access, though both Tiny and Dozer abstained. Duke looked to me and said, “She knows we invoked temporary weapons privileges again. She brought her own safe last time. You need to talk to her about where to stow it during parties and such, when there are more people wandering around.”

  I nodded and told the group, “As much as I’d like to do my signature move on Pickering’s skull, Angelica’s idea of destroying him politically is probably our best bet. Several of my enemies have gone missing, and the club is still saddled with McPherson’s disappearance. Making a public figure who has an antagonistic relationship with us vanish wouldn’t be smart.”

  “How about fucking with his car?” asked Tiny. “He lives on Signal Mountain. We could screw with the brakes.”

  “Not a bad idea, but let’s keep it as a last resort,” Duke said, and looked to Brain.

  “I hacked into his email last week, found out the handle he uses on Fetlife. None of his pictures show his face, but there’s still enough info on his profile to bury him. It shouldn’t be too hard for me to get into his apartment Wi-Fi and forward something with his Fetlife profile name to one of his political enemies. I can make it look like he meant to send it to someone else and got his contacts messed up. No guarantees what the designated person will do with the info, and there’s a chance someone will figure out I’m responsible, though they won’t be able to prove it. Could bring more of Pickering’s attention down on us, or it could make him realize he needs to back off.”

  “Seems to me,” said Gonzo, “we distribute the clip about him being able to get her off if she’s his girlfriend, and he’ll be in a world of hurt.”

  “Rather not put Angelica out there like that, if we can avoid it,” I told them.

  “I agree,” Dawg said, backing me up. “Bud’s gone out of his way to help more than one of us out, make sure we’re okay. We owe it to him to protect his daughter.”

  Gonzo nodded. Bud had taken him in, worked with him on his temper and his wolf during the prospect stage when he almost lost it a time or two while having to show submission to the patched members and do everything they said. Gonzo had come into the club after Angelica left for college, though, so he hadn’t seen her much. “Yeah, okay. I knew she was his daughter, but wasn’t thinking along those lines. You’re right.”

  “We’re going to have to let Bud know about the video at some point, but I’d really prefer we also have the details of how we’ve made Pickering pay before we bring Bud in,” Duke said, his eyes grim.

  “This is a Chattanooga RTMC issue. We need to keep it home, deal with it ourselves,” Brain agreed.

  “No argument from me,” I told them. “Let’s give her some plausible deniability when we bring her down. Tell her we have a plan to get him to back off, promise it doesn’t involve physically accosting him, and point out she doesn’t need to know more. Privately, I’ll tell her she’ll figure it out once everything happens, but it’s best if she can honestly say she knows nothing about it when everything breaks lose.”

  “Good to see you still have some brain cells firing,” said Dozer.

  Duke called a vote before I could respond to Dozer, and we unanimously agreed to let Brain fuck with Pickering via his Fetlife profile.

  “Okay, the bugs,” I told them. “I’m thinking I stay with her tomorrow night, and while she’s in the shower I’ll sit at the kitchen table and make fake phone calls. Make it sound like we’re working a weapons deal, note the bike shop as delivery location, and the fact we’ll be taking them out of the county right away. He won’t want to miss out on taking us down for it, so he’ll claim a confidential informant and set up a big sting. Meanwhile, let’s put together some kinda big donation for one of our favorite charities, and have the delivery brought to the bike shop so we can sort through it and package it up to take to them. The media will have a field day over a sting that nets the CPD a bunch of stuffed animals, dolls, and toy trucks going to the local women and children’s shelter.”

  “Not a bad plan,” Brain said, thoughtful. “Meanwhile, we can have Angelica call the police to report the electronic devices she’s found in her home, meaning someone broke in and planted them. We can time it so she calls them as the sting is ending. Someone’ll put it together.” He looked around the room, considering. “Yeah, let’s hold off on me sending the Fetlife info. This might do what we need it to do.”

  “Angelica will have to be in on this plan,” I pointed out.

  “Not a problem,” said Duke. “Let’s go around the room.”

  Everyone approved, and Dawg went upstairs to bring Angelica down.

  Chapter Seven

  Angelica

  Two nights with Bash in my apartment, but with him on the sofa instead of my bed. We’d gone out to eat, we’d gone to the compound to snuggle and have sex, but we’d had to spend enough time here to make it look like he was staying over to protect me, but sleeping on the sofa because we’re just friends.

  Two of Duke’s people in the Chattanooga Police Department had let him know a sting was planned, and we knew which of the brass had organized it — when he got egg on his face, he’d blame Thomas. And, when he found out Thomas had bugged my apartment… well, we didn’t know what would happen. Dawg is friendly with a local reporter, so if nothing happened we figured he could mention my bugs, and point out some wires had obviously gotten crossed somewhere with the big teddy bear sting.

  Dawg gave me the signal through the Rolling Thunder app on my phone, and I made the call to nine-one-one, and then to my supervisor at work. I’m employed by a federal agency and have secret clearance, so bugs in my apartment have to be reported to my employer as well as the police.

  My official story would be that I’d spilled blueberry jam on the floor, and was on my hands and knees cleaning it up when I noticed something under my table. My dad had taught me all about electronic listening devices while I was growing up, and I knew what I was seeing. This meant someone had been in my apartment, and that meant calling the police.

  I spent thirty minutes answering questions from the uniforms, and then a detective in a shirt and tie but no suit jacket showed up, asking the same questions, and more.

  Just when I thought I was finishing up with him, men in suits and ties showed up, introduced themselves as FBI special agents, and produced electronic sweepers.

  They, of course, found the one in the bedroom, and since I wasn’t so good at feigning shock and surprise, I chose to get royally pissed that someone would invade the privacy of my bedroom. My kitchen was bad enough, but my bedroom? They let me rant a good thirty seconds, the men all looking at each other, and one of the FBI agents finally stepped forward and suggested we go out on the balcony for some fresh air.

  “Why did you call the police, instead of your friends? You haven’t made it a secret your father is the Atlanta RTMC president. Bikers usually prefer to handle this sort of thing internally.”

  “I own a motorcycle, but I’m not a biker, Agent Graham. My dad’s two hours away and I need to stand on my own two feet. He asked the local guys to keep an eye on me after the Disciples jumped me, and I appreciate the safety they can offer, but I’m a civilian and I’d rather handle things through the legal system.” I looked at the Tennessee River a few seconds. “I’m involved in some pretty sensitive research and development at TVA. I do bring work home, but I haven’t talked about it out loud, so I don’t think whoever is listening in would’ve heard it. I don’t know if the bug is there because of my job, or because of my association with the RTMC,
or because I dated the District Attorney for a short time. He made some threats against me, so I suppose he could be involved, but accusing elected officials of this sort of thing can be dangerous and I’m not prepared to do so on the record.”

  But, I didn’t mind putting the idea in his head off the record.

  “Are you currently in a romantic relationship with anyone in the RTMC?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “So that would be a yes?”

  “I’m the victim here, Agent Graham. I’m just curious why you’re asking. The answer right now is no, but I’m not sure the answer will be the same by the weekend. One of the members was there for me during a difficult time in my teens. Nothing sexual or romantic at the time, but he helped me build my car and we were friends. Now? We’re kind of dancing around each other. So, right now? No. However, I don’t want you to see me with someone in a few days or weeks and think I lied.”

  “Your government clearances require you to divulge the name of people you’re in a relationship with, as well as any felons you spend time around. A close relationship with a felon will result in withdrawal of your clearances.”

  “I know. He isn’t a felon.”

  “Others in the RTMC are, though. If you spend time at the clubhouse, you’ll have to report your time with them.”

  “I’m aware, Agent.”

  He nodded and, thankfully, changed the subject. “So, if you had to point fingers, it’s the DA?”

  “Off the record, yeah. The MC wouldn’t invade my privacy like this. I suppose it could be the Disciples, but...” I turned and looked inside my house. “I officially broke it off with the DA Sunday. I fixed us burgers and fried potatoes, and he sat where the bug is, to eat.”

  “Was he in your bedroom?”

  “No, but he went to the bathroom while I was cooking. He could’ve stepped into the bedroom, reached behind the dresser, and I wouldn’t have known.”