Read Bash, Volume II Online

Authors: Candace Blevins

Bash, Volume II (5 page)

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.”

I opened my door and went back into my apartment. One of the other agents was leaning against a wall, looking at his cellphone. He looked up, his face blank. “You took out three Disciples, protecting yourself and the DA?”

“Pickering was shot. Barely more than a flesh wound, but still, I’m not sure I’d call that protecting him.”

“You realize it’s usually the man who protects the woman?” Agent Graham asked with a smile.

“I was legally armed, and my dad taught me how to defend myself. It’s possible I’ve had more training than any of you.” I shrugged my shoulders and rolled my eyes. “They weren’t expecting me to fight back. I caught them off guard. It isn’t likely I’ll get the drop on them again.”

One of the CPD officers came inside and asked to speak to the Agent in charge. My guess was the FBI was about to hear about a sting on illegal guns that netted the CPD a bunch of toys destined for several women and children’s shelters, as well as two large wooden swing sets with slides, with the labor to put them up also volunteered by the MC.

My cellphone rang, and I looked to see Thomas calling.

“Can everyone be quiet? This might tell us who planted the bugs.”

I motioned Agent Graham closer, and answered so the phone was between his head and mine, though I was doing the talking.

“How did you know?”

“How did I know what, Thomas?”

“You’ll pay for this, Angelica. You may think you’re clever, but you and your friends are going to pay dearly.”

“I don’t take kindly to threats. I told you before, I’d rather you be my friend than my enemy, but if you choose to turn us into enemies, I’ll deal with it.”

“You’ll deal with it from the inside of a jail cell by the time I’m through with you.”

He hung up, and I looked to the officers and agents around us.

“I got a recording of it,” one of the Agents said. “Doesn’t prove anything, but doesn’t paint him in a good light, either.”

I sighed and told them, “This isn’t the first time he’s threatened me. I basically broke up with him because he kept disparaging my dad and the rest of the MC family, and because he got really upset with me every time I said a cuss word. He wanted to change me, and that never works.”

“What I just heard on the phone is someone abusing their position to get even with someone in a personal relationship,” said Agent Graham. He looked at me a few seconds and added, “You have three agents instead of two because of your affiliation with the RTMC. However, it appears you were upfront about your connections on your TVA paperwork, or I wouldn’t have been called in at the beginning. If I’m correct, then this shouldn’t affect your clearances.”

He looked at one of the other agents, who said, “I don’t see an issue. I can’t imagine the MC would be interested in her specialty. She becomes friends with Chinese, Indian, or Russian nationals, we have a problem, but bikers? No.”

“So, you’re the energy specialist,” I told the guy who’d just spoken, then turned to Graham and said, “You’re the MC specialist.” I looked to the third guy and asked, “What do you specialize in?”

“He knows the locals,” said Agent Graham. “They like him, and don’t fight him when he says we’re stepping in, because he usually keeps them in the loop as much as he can. I think they’re gonna understand this is a tinderbox, though, and they’ll be more than happy to hand the whole thing over, so we’ll probably send him on his way, soon.”

“I’m kind of hoping you’ll all go on your way, soon, to be honest. What else do you need from me?”

“I need to ask if you know where your MC friends are right now.”

I looked at my watch. “The bike shop’s closed, so I’d imagine some are at the bar, some at the compound, and the rest doing their own thing. Either Bash or Dawg was going to stop by later. Bash slept on my sofa the last two nights but he said Dawg might stay tonight. I keep assuring them I’m fine, but I’m Bud’s daughter and none of them want to face him if I get hurt and they could’ve protected me. They aren’t a bother, sleeping on my sofa, so I haven’t fought them on it, yet.”

“Are you aware of any charity events coming up?”

“Yeah. Six of the guys got some kind of special clearance, so they can go to some of the women’s shelters and build playground equipment. I guess they don’t give out the address to just anyone, and they’ll be taken there in a van with no windows, so they won’t know where they are, but they’ll see the kids and moms while they’re working. There’s also a thing this weekend, where they give a bunch of toys to several charities, and I think some blankets to the homeless shelter, too. Why?”

He shook his head. “If I find out you arranged this, I won’t be happy.”

As if on cue, I heard multiple bikes pulling in. “And here I thought you were going to look out for me,” I told Agent Graham. “Try to make sure justice is served and whoever invaded my privacy learns the error of their ways.”

Brain came in first, and spoke with our audience in mind, “Angelica? You okay?”

“Yeah. I dropped a jar of blueberry jam, and while I was on the floor, saw some kind of electronic listening device under my table.”

“So you called the cops?”

I held his gaze, which was hard. Brain could look scary when he wanted, and he was obviously not happy I’d called the cops instead of him.

“I’m a civilian, Brain. It’s what we do when we discover someone’s been in our apartment.”

“Your dad know yet?”

I shook my head, and he turned to look at Duke, who was pulling his cellphone out of his pocket as he stepped outside.

“Dammit, Brain. I’m a grown woman! Stop tattling to my father every time something happens!”

“We called him when you were attacked by the Disciples, when we discovered you were datin’ the DA, and now this. All seem like something a father should be notified of.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, looked at the floor, and said, “I lived up north for five years and I wasn’t attacked a single time, nor did I find listening devices in my apartment.”

“I’m thinking this has more to do with Pickering than us, Princess,” Bash said from the doorway, his voice gentle. “I sat at your table and talked about a shipment coming in, and where and when, while you were in the shower the other day. Whoever was listening in set up a sting tonight, and now the CPD has all the toys we were supposed to donate Friday.”

I turned to Brain. “I found a bug under my table, and the FBI agents found another in my bedroom. How can we be sure they found them all?”

He eyed Agent Graham, then looked back to me. “I’m sure they found everything, but I’ll bring some equipment and do my own sweep if it’ll make you feel better.”

“It will.”

Agent Graham stepped towards Bash and asked, “Can you tell me about the conversation you had on the phone? Did you in any way intimate it might be for stolen or illegal guns?”

Bash looked to Brain, who said, “We give all of our projects code names. This particular charity is code named guns and roses.”

“Why?”

“Guns for the abusers, roses for the abused,” Duke said from the doorway as he stepped back in, presumably after calling my dad. “Our track record in Atlanta leaves no doubt how the MC feels about cowards who hurt women and kids.”

“And dogs,” I added. “One of my earliest memories is my dad beating the ever living hell out of a man who was kicking his dog.”

“I’ve heard that story,” Duke said with a smile. “It’s how you got Beastie, isn’t it?”

“Wait,” said one of the agents. “You’re admitting your father assaulted someone?”

We’d been over this with the lawyers and I knew my dad was safe. “First, I was three, so the statute of limitations is long past. Second, the asshole never pressed charges or tried to get his dog back so there’d be no way to find him.”

“The version of the story I heard goes on to say this was where you learned the phrase
motherfucking cocksucker
,” Duke said with a smile, “and your mom was even less pleased about this than about you and your dad coming home with a dog you’d renamed Beastie, and become best friends with in a mere twenty or so minutes.”

I laughed. “I only remember her being upset about the dog, but the rest sounds about right, too. God, I miss my mom.”

 

* * * *

 

It was another twenty minutes before the last of the officers and agents left. Agent Graham left his card with me, and instructions to call him should anything come up, or should I remember anything else he should know.

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