Bash, Volume III (2 page)

I hesitated before telling the part about killing the men, deciding whether to just give the facts, or whether everyone needed to hear my reasoning behind it. I decided my reasons were my own. I’d explain to Brain and Bash, and probably some of the other MC guys later, but for now, I just said, “The guys who kidnapped me had to die. They’d planned to rape me, and it sounded like they wanted to keep me long term, make me their bitch, and I couldn’t let that stand. I had seven shots in my gun, and used five to hit each of them in the chest, one after another. I shot as fast as I could without risking a jam, then waited. One of them moved and I hit him another two times and put a fresh mag in.”

I looked to Marlin, hoping he’d fill in the name of the man who’d shot the other two for me, but he didn’t. Looked like I wasn’t the only one holding things close to my chest. Or, perhaps he was just following Brain’s directive about not interrupting me.

When I finished the story, I pointed out, “There’ll be traffic cams of the driver pulling away from the nail place, so the police will know at least one of the guys who took me.”

“Right,” said Brain. “We’ll need to clean your hand and arm so there’s no gunshot residue, and I’ll take your piece before you report your abduction. Someone’s on the way with another black shirt, because that one’s likely got GSR on it, as well.”

“Yeah, I have an identical Sig in my apartment — it’ll become my new every day carry. I’ll borrow the welder in the shop and melt this one down.”

“I’ll see it’s taken care of.” Brain looked at Marlin. “You got a location with no cameras anywhere around that you don’t mind giving up to LEO? Someplace they might’ve taken her that she escaped from? We don’t want to give them the actual crime scene.”

Marlin looked at Razor a few seconds, then back to us. “One of the men she killed lives in East Lake, off Rossville Boulevard and less than five miles from the warehouse they took her to. He could’ve taken her there without being seen on any of the cams close to his house, if he’d gone in through the alley.”

Brain pulled out a city map and said, “Show me.”

Marlin pointed to it, and Razor said, “If she were to escape out the back, there’s a house with a swingset not too far away. I know the family, know they’ll call the police for her if she shows up asking for help.”

Brain looked at Marlin. “The point of not having electronics in here is so we all trust each other enough to speak openly, since no one can record anything. I need my laptop for the planning stage, though. You good if I go get it?”

Marlin nodded, and Brain stepped out. While he was gone, Dozer asked, “You sure you’re okay, Tink?”

“Physically? Sure. Emotionally? Jury’s still out because right now I’m still so pissed I can’t see straight.” I couldn’t tell if he was putting on an act, or if he was genuinely concerned. Maybe my killing five Disciples had made him decide I might not be a threat to the MC?

I’d been sitting between Brain and Dawg, and now Dawg reached for my hand. “We’ll get you through it, Girly. You’re going to have to fall apart for the police when they’re called. Hold it together until then, okay?”

“I’m good, Dawg.” I looked at Dozer. “I’ll make you happy, and point out it’ll be more believable if someone’s punched me in the face and put some bruises on my arms from grabbing me.”

He shook his head. “No way, Tink. I’m not putting any marks on you.”

Brain chuckled as he walked back in. “Yeah, you will if I tell you to. She’s right about needing to look like she had to fight them.”

“Sorry brother, but no. You saw Gonzo’s face after he just
looked
at her wrong.”

Dawg put his arm around my neck, pulled me to him, kissed my forehead. “I’ll do it,” he muttered into my ear. “We’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

Just the thought of Dawg having to punch me in the face made me sad, and Brain smelled my distress and growled from my other side as he said, “No, Dawg. The pussy won’t do it, I’ll make sure it’s done before I make her take your fist.”

“Fuck, guys.
Enough
.” I looked at Dozer. “You’ll do it or I’ll make you look like an idiot when I help train the new guys. I trust you to hit me hard enough to make it look good for the cops, but not so hard you give me a damned concussion. Plus, we both know you don’t like me very much. Don’t make one of my friends have to hit me. I’m holding it together, but I’m not sure I’m up for…”

I
hated
that my voice broke, and his forcing me to show weakness just pissed me off even more, and I glared at him.

He nodded. “Yeah, okay, Tink. You’re wrong about me not liking you, though. Just needed some time to build trust, is all. I respect your dad, and I see a lot of him in you.”

Marlin was smiling at me from across the van, and I rolled my eyes at him. For now, we were on the same side, and he seemed a nice enough guy. I’d need to remember he was still technically the enemy, though. No guarantees we’d be on the same side if we met again.

“If that’s settled,” said Brain, “Based on where Marlin said they took you, they likely lost cameras several miles from where you ended up, and it’s completely plausible they took that route to this other house as well. Dozer can mess your face up a little, and then we’ll get Ghost to walk you into the house so no neighbors see either of you. I’m downloading all the street view images from Google now, and my software will put it together into a virtual world for Ghost to look at before ya’ll get there.”

Angelica

My wrists were healing already, so the guys bound them, along with my ankles, a little too tight for our ride to within a couple of blocks from the house.

Dozer punched me in the face a few times, and grabbed my arms hard enough to form bruises. He ripped the new black shirt off, so it’d be torn the right way, and one of the guys gave me their black t-shirt to wear on my walk to the house. I wished I was wearing a sports bra instead of a lacy flesh-toned underwire, but there was nothing to do about it. Brain rehearsed my story with me, and coached me on keeping it simple and not adding details we hadn’t put in with a purpose. Then, he made me recite all of the events backwards before having me tell it to him forwards again.

We’d said goodbye to the Disciples before we drove to the house, which meant Brain and Dawg could work with me on telling my story and not smelling as if I were lying. I’d most likely be giving my statements to humans, but just in case a supernatural got involved, I’d need to smell as if I were nervous as fuck but telling the truth.

Ghost’s name comes from the fact he can fade into the shadows, and walk so softly no human ever hears him. Sometimes, if he’s upwind, even the wolves don’t know he’s there.

They untied me a few blocks away, and I walked through the shadows with Ghost. The next five minutes were a huge learning experience for me, as we casually moved from dark spot to dark spot, taking our time more often than not, and only speeding up to stay hidden twice. Much of the way we moved was counterintuitive, but when I thought about it, it made sense. Too bad we had to stay quiet because I had a million questions for him.

We made it to the back door, and I watched as he easily picked the lock. He wore gloves and a hoodie, but only stepped right inside the door, to make sure he didn’t leave any DNA in the house. I found a room with heavy blinds, spit on the pillow and rubbed it around, wallowed in the bed, and knocked a chest of drawers sideways as if there’d been a fight. I grabbed some of my hair and tossed it around, and scraped my arm on the footboard. I threw my torn shirt on the floor, and then took the black tee off and handed it to Ghost before we went out the door.

And then I ran through yards for a few blocks before I hit the street and ran the final blocks to the restaurant.

We’d decided I needed to run farther away than a close neighbor for help, so the kidnapper who was supposed to be in the house would have time to leave, and no neighbors would be watching for him. We were three diagonal blocks from a McDonald’s, but if I ran to the end of this block I’d be able to see the Golden Arches, so it was plausible I’d run that far to a public place to ask for help. Even barefoot.

Ghost trailed me until I hit the restaurant, and then intended to stay close enough he could hear inside. If I screamed and needed help, he’d be there.

I ran in, breathing harder than I needed to, and went straight to the employees behind the counter.

“Please, call the police! Can you hide me until they get here? Please? Oh god, please someone, call nine-one-one!”

We were still in Tennessee, but just barely. Didn’t matter, though. Because of my job, and the previous problems, it was a given the FBI agents would be called in again — and if they weren’t, I’d ask for Graham.

A manager made the call, explained a woman had come running into the restaurant in jeans and a bra looking like she’d been beat up, and asking them to call the cops and hide her. I went to the bathroom and washed my hands and face, and then an employee took me into a back room and handed me a phone. The nine-one-one operator asked my name, which I gave her, and then she started asking a whole lot more questions. I interrupted her to ask one of the employees if I could get some ice in a bag or cup, to put on my eye, and then the nine-one-one operator asked if I needed an ambulance.

“I don’t know,” I told her. “I’m hurting, but I think maybe ice will take care of it.”

A police officer showed up within minutes. I was sitting on the floor between a small sofa and a wall, so I was hidden from the door, and he came to me and squatted in front of me.

He looked at me a few seconds before asking, “Do you have a weapon on you, ma’am?”

I shook my head. “No, officer.” I was tempted to tell him if I did, I wouldn’t look like this, but today was about getting the cops on my side, and I was supposed to play the scared female — in shock and dealing with the emotions women experience after an abduction and escape.

“What’s your name?”

“Angelica Wright.”

“Do you know who did this to you, Miss Wright?”

“Not their names, but I’m pretty sure they were some of the Disciples. This is going to be part of an ongoing investigation the FBI is involved in. Can you notify Agent Graham I have information he’s going to want, please?” I squeezed my knees closer to my chest. “I have his card in my purse, but it and my phone got lost somewhere along the way.”

“Your purse and phone are at the Chattanooga police services center, ma’am.”

He made a phone call, asked someone to notify Agent Graham I was asking for him, and put his phone away.

“You want to come out of the corner?”

I shook my head. “Not really.”

“Okay. You’re fine where you are. Can you tell me what you’re afraid of?”

“The Hamilton County District Attorney has it out for me. There are crooked cops on his side, and apparently members of the Disciples, as well. I won’t insult you by asking you if you’re crooked or not, but you have to understand I’m wary, right?”

“So, the Disciples did this to you, or cops?”

“I’d really rather tell Agent Graham.” I was curled into as small of a ball as I could get, holding the cup of ice on the left side of my face.

“Is there anyone else you’d like to call? Family? Boyfriend?”

“My dad’s in Atlanta. He’ll want me to call Duke, but I think it might be better to handle most of this on my own before I bring them in.”

“Are you afraid of this Duke?”

I chuckled. “God no. He’d die protecting me, but I’m a federal employee with a security clearance and I have to handle this my way, the right way. I have to stand on my own two feet.”

“Okay, can I call you Angelica? Or do you go by a shortened form of your name?”

“Only my dad calls me Angel. I’m Angelica to everyone else.”

“That’s good. Are you hurt anywhere except your face?”

“They ripped my shirt off and my shoulder hurts a little. My wrists are still sore from the damned rope. I got my arms loose once, from the zip-tie, so they used rope, and I think they were pissed, because they put it on really tight. My shoulders hurt from having my hands bound behind my back, but I don’t think I’m injured. Just sore.”

“Where did they get you?”

“I’d just had my nails done, wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings, was more worried about my wet nails than my safety.” I sighed, irritated with myself. “My dad taught me better. It’s embarrassing.”

“Don’t beat yourself up. You got away from them, yes?”

I nodded. “What are the odds they’re still there? Do you have a shirt I can wear? I’ll take you to the house. I walked a few blocks and saw the McDonald’s sign, and then made my way here. It felt safer than knocking on a random door in this part of town wearing only my bra.”

Another officer stepped into the room. I’d smelled her there a few minutes, and I wondered why she waited.

“I’m assuming they didn’t just let you walk away?” she asked.

“No. Five guys got me, one of them driving. Once they got me inside the house, the driver and one man left, so I was with three guys. I got out of the zip-ties, they retied me. One of them started pawing at me, and they got into an argument about who was going to… get me… first.” I paused unsure if I should’ve been more clear about them wanting to rape me, but then decided it would do for now. “They left the room to decide. I got the rope off my wrists, and then worked a foot out of the zip-tie around my ankles. I heard them agreeing they’d each get an hour with me. Two of the guys were going to go get something to eat and come back in an hour.”

I stopped talking a few minutes, put my head on my knees and took a few breaths before looking back up. “I got back on the bed, because I knew I needed to stall long enough for the other two guys to leave, so I’d only have to fight one of them. He realized my rope was off about the time the two of them drove off, so I wasn’t in the best position to fight him.” I shrugged. “He got a few good hits in, ripped my shirt off. I knocked him out cold, got out the back door. I was in the backyard before I realized I should’ve found a shirt to wear, but I wasn’t about to go back.”

“What street was the house on?”

“I don’t know. I’m not even sure I’ll recognize it from the front. They came at it through an alleyway, from the back, and then I escaped out the back door. I couldn’t see where we were while they were driving. I’ll have to try to retrace my steps to find it.”

Another officer stepped in. “One of the Disciples lives a few blocks away. We have officers on the way there, now.”

“As you come in the back door, I was in a bedroom on the right, just past the kitchen. Some furniture got knocked over while we were fighting.”

They asked me questions another ten minutes before Agent Graham arrived, and he had a white dress shirt folded over his arm. “Everyone out but the female officer, please?” he asked as he stepped in, and they did as he asked. He knelt before me and handed me the shirt. “Put this on, Angelica, and then come out of the corner so we can talk.”

I nodded, and let him help me up.

“Let’s get you out of here. Where will you feel the most comfortable talking to me?”

I pulled the shirt on and buttoned it. It was huge on me — he’d likely given me a spare he kept in his car for his own use. I could’ve probably put a belt on and worn it as a dress.

“Thanks. I need to get my car, I guess it’s still at the nail place? And my purse is supposed to be at the police department. I have no idea where my shoes are. I was carrying them, so they’re probably with my purse.”

“Back up, Angelica. We’ll get all of that taken care of, but I need to get your statement. You’re nervous here — I can take you to the FBI offices, or I can take you home. I’m a little surprised all your men aren’t here.”

“I haven’t called them. They don’t know anything’s happened, so no need to get them involved yet. I need to do this on my own.”

He looked at me a second and said, “Your dad was notified when your purse was found.”

I looked at him in shock a moment before saying, “Fuck! He’ll be terrified! And Bash! Damn, can I use your phone?”

He unlocked it and handed it to me, and I called Bash. “I’m okay, Bash. I escaped, and I’m with Agent Graham. I just found out my dad was notified when I was taken, and I figure he’s on his way up. I don’t want to distract him from driving.”

“He’s already here, we’ve been worried sick. Where are you?”

“Rossville Boulevard.” I looked at Agent Graham as I told Bash, “From what I could gather from listening to the Disciple dickwads who had me, Pickering put them up to kidnapping me. They wore masks around me, but talked way too much. I know it had to be them, and they kept talking about their orders when they argued about who was going to get me first.”

“Tell me they didn’t lay a hand on you.” His voice was scary, and I knew Graham could hear it even with his human hearing. I was positive Bash knew they hadn’t, and I knew he had to act as he normally would, but I still wasn’t happy about him making himself a suspect, should the bodies be found later.

“I fought one of the guys when I escaped. I have ice on my face, and I’m guessing I
look
like I’ve been in a fight.” I looked at my hand. I’d hit Dozer a few times, too, and my knuckles showed it. “You should see the other guy, though. I knocked him out cold so I could get away.”

He started to say something, but I interrupted. “The cops are probably having a field day with my phone. Can you get my dad and an attorney to go get it and my purse from them? My emails and text messages are none of their business. My dad has the keys to my car, too. He should get it and take it to the MC’s compound. Do you think I can come back there tonight, to stay with you?”

“Yeah, Princess. Of course. Your dad heard you, says to tell you he loves you.”

“Tell him I love him, too. Can I get Graham to take me to the compound? He wants to take my statement.”

“Duke says to bring him to the bar, you can use the office.”

“Okay. We’ll be there soon.”

* * * *

Agent Graham let me sit up front with him, and he turned a camera on, facing me, and said, “You can start talking on the way.”

I told him about the way they got me, how angry at myself I was for being a
girl
— worried about my nails instead of watching my surroundings.

Everything was the truth, with the exception of my saying they wore masks, until I got to their conversation.

“I’m probably not getting the exact wording right, but they’d say things like, ‘He said we could do what we wanted with her,’ and then later, when they were arguing over how bad they could rough me up, one of them said something about him telling them they had to keep me hidden away until ‘he’ said the coast was clear for them to let me go.”

“Anything definitive?” he asked.

“Apparently, whoever put them up to it didn’t want me dead, just wanted me used and abused until he thought I’d be quiet when they let me go, I think. One of them said if they screwed this up he was guaranteed a trip back inside, which makes me think it’s the DA, or perhaps a crooked cop doing it on behalf of Pickering. But, in answer to your question? No, they didn’t use his name.”

“Okay, keep going.”

I told the rest of the story, and was almost to my escape when we pulled into the RTMC bar. Bash was outside waiting for me, and told me my dad was off trying to get my things back. He touched my face, and looked me in the eyes a few seconds as if he could read everything that’d happened in them. He nodded, gently kissed my forehead, and then looked to Graham with a mostly neutral look on his face, but one I recognized as dangerous.