Tarnished Steel (3 page)

She was about to ask Larry who this road god was when Larry answered the question for her without asking.

Noticing the man’s approach, Larry said, “Hey Hank, pull up a stool. This here is Cyn, a recent addition to our sisterhood. Knight’s with Ben, James, and Halo. Going to be a few minutes before interruptions will be welcome. Hungry?”

“I could eat,” Hank agreed with a low enough voice to make her nipples violently hard.

She was suddenly very glad she wore her laced up leather vest today, and not a baby-doll like she normally did. If had he said, right then, “I’d like to do you. Are you alright with leaning against the bar while I fuck the hell out of your ass?”, she would have answered by getting into position — but she didn’t want
him
knowing that!

She wasn’t above checking the blue jean patch framed by his leather chaps for signs of sexual interest, however, and she found at least a workable amount of interest making itself known.

“You two riding together?” Hank asked Larry.

“Us?” Larry answered with a chuckle. “No. Thanks for the complement, though. I’m a bit afraid I might die, actually, so I’ve kept things on a friendly level. What made you ask? If I might be so bold?”

“Her bike’s snuggled up with yours out in the lot, obviously parked by a thirty-year-old woman who likes you, that’s all,” Hank explained, and ordered a beer.

To her wide-eyed, silent question, when he turned to look at her, he confirmed, “Lowrider, red, right?”

“Um, yeah, but…”

“Pink garter belt, left handle bar. Dead giveaway, since you’re the only female rider in here,” Hank told her. Then, leaning closer to her, he said with a conspiratorially low voice, “And your license plate says ‘CYN 84’.”

While she felt her blush rising, Larry said, “He does that to everyone, don’t let it get to you. It is so fucking obvious when he explains how he knows, but it’s impossible to figure out until then. Really pisses me off.”

“Yeah, but
why
would you look that hard at my bike or bother doing the math?” Cyn asked.

He paid for his beer with a pile of bills, ready to pay for the next round, and took a long drink. Then he offered, “I like Larry. Like him a lot. If some little thirty-year-old rider’s going to start putting the make on him, I want to know who she is, and as much about her as I can.”

“Bullshit,” Larry snapped. “You saw a sweet looking redhead sitting beside me through the window, found her bike, and created one of your mysterious introductions to impress her.”

Hank pointed a defiant finger at Larry, opened his mouth, and closed it again. Then he leaned over to her, and in that same low voice admitted, “Actually, that’s true, and I really hate it when he does it.”

“A lot of hate going on between you two,” she mused, and took a pull from her own bottle.

Hank nodded. “True, and a lot of good miles together, even through dark times.”

Larry lifted his bottle in salute, clinking with Hank’s, and then took a drink with him. “Some serious dark times. I still owe you.”

“Bah! Owe me. Owe me what? How can you be owed something for just showing up and being a brother? Makes no sense,” Hank said, and then spent a bit of time checking out her legs, “With those legs, why a Lowrider? Hell, you could ride anything.”

“And I chose to ride a Lowrider,” she told him. “Got something against them?”

“No, I ride one too, just curious,” he answered.

“And it was a good excuses to ogle my legs right out here in public,” she added.

He looked up at her. “You’ve been hanging out with Larry too long. You may be too contaminated for a reasonable cure.”

“Who said I wanted something reasonable?” she asked, keeping her face as steady as she was able.

CHAPTER THREE

Coming back into town after being gone for close to eight months felt good to Hank. Taking the road east of Lakeside and gliding out to the club through rural roads was a trip down a memory lane filled with some very good times and several dark miles. But spying this cute little redhead through the window, sitting with Larry, was turning out to be better than all of it.

Well, she wasn’t all that little, was she? Probably five-eight, or nine. Had a fine athletic build to her, with just the right amount of breast to catch a man’s eye, and make him think sweet thoughts.

She wasn’t really cute, either. There was steel in those blue eyes, and a no-nonsense shape to her nose and lips. The fine lines of her cheek bones were the type to take
Cute
outside and stomp a mud hole in her ass. No, this woman didn’t chase unicorns and rainbows. She would much prefer an evening with Batman, the dark knight, over a glass of champagne with James Bond, though she could probably hold her own with either one.

They talked and flirted with parries and slashes, each drawing enough blood to keep themselves interested while finding the other still had depths to be plumbed. He had to adjust his position on the barstool because his cock was getting more interested with each passing minute. Also, despite what she might have thought about the safety from exposure that her leather vest provided, from the flush of her breasts she was getting more than a little excited herself.

Then Knight had to stick his gray-maned head over the railing upstairs and call down for him. Hank almost told the elder to fuck off, he was busy, but that would have been a bad choice of action.

“You going to be around later?” he asked Cyn.

“I was actually going to head home. I have some work that needs to be finished. But here’s my card. Maybe you could call me sometime and we can get together,” she told him, offering him a business card which said she was a freelance editor.

“You work from home, then?” he asked.

“Not as glorious as it sounds, and I do have a small office I use down in Spring Valley,” she told him.

“How about I call you after this thing with Knight, and we get some dinner — after your work is done, of course,” he said.

“Talk to you soon, then.” She smiled and got off her bar stool. “I better get down the road so it isn’t a really late dinner.” Over her shoulder, she said, “See you soon, Larry.”

“Oh, so you did remember I existed. Very nice of you. Safe wind,” Larry smiled, giving her a lazy wave.

Hank was fairly sure that every man in the building watched her leave, not just Larry, Knight, and himself. He didn’t mind. Didn’t mind at all. There was plenty of leg being moved in confident strides by her alluring ass for everyone to enjoy.

“Hank?” Larry said from close behind him. “I love you, man, but I’ve grown fond of that gal, and I would take it as a personal slight to see her abused in any fashion.”

“So would I Larry. So would I,” Hank agreed, and then headed for the stairs.

The stairs led to a second floor. It was actually more of a balcony which covered a little more than half the width of the building, giving the place an open feel. Tables and chair sets were up there, and the noise levels from downstairs were greatly subdued. In fact, when live bands were playing downstairs, you could still have a normal conversation at a table up here, if you chose to, without feeling like you had left the party. On the weekends, waitresses also worked this floor, so it really was a nice addition to the country bar and grill downstairs.

Roughly at the center of this upstairs balcony area was a door marked “Management,” and that’s where Hank directed himself.

Knight had this room added on to the building when he put in the restroom facilities up there. The room was much larger than you would expect it to be from looking at its position and eying the wall lines. In fact, it felt a little
Alice In Wonderland
when you first stepped inside.

The second thing you were surprised by when you came into this room and got over its size was the number of house plants, both hanging and sitting on various shelves and cabinets.

Knight had a serious green thumb, and one of his favorite hobbies was hydroponics, but he rarely spoke about it. The only way a person might come across this information was to be invited to Knight’s house, which was a rare occurrence.

Hank had been there eleven times, and each invitation was more surprising an offer than the previous. When Knight wanted solitude, he went home. All of his business and most of his social life was spent here. You could easily believe, with no reason for doubt, that Knight lived in this building and didn’t even have another house he called home. In fact, Hank knew several of Knight’s lovers never woke up in his bed, but rather only in his bunkhouse room up here.

Hank made his way to the visiting chairs in front of Knight’s desk and sat down while Knight clicked the keys of a huge laptop keyboard with dexterous, thick fingers, finishing something. Hank waited patiently, letting memories of Cyn dance in his head.

“I take it your return heralds some success,” Knight suggested, continuing to type.

“Not just some, but I think a real solution to the problem,” Hank told his president.

Knight stopped typing and looked at Hank. “A
real
solution?”

“Total reprisal,” Hank said.

Knight leaned back from the laptop, giving Hank his full attention. “Within the bounds I laid out?”

“Not even close to stepping past the lines.”

“This is much more than I expected,” Knight admitted.

“A great deal more than I set out to do as well. My personal goals, the ones I felt would be
good enough
, are a pittance to what I uncovered and have planned,” Hank said.

“From another man, I might expect hubris to be a factor here, but I feel you are perhaps even downplaying your achievement,” Knight told him.

“Well, why don’t I lay it all out for you, and then you can see if my estimations are correct.”

“Yes,” Knight agreed. “Let me send this email off, and then I can give my full attention to you.” Before Knight turned back to the laptop, though, he called down to the bar and asked for chips, salsa, and a large pitcher of beer to be brought up, and for someone to stand on “Do-Not-Disturb” duty on his office door until he released them.

“Do Not Disturb” duty paid a hundred an hour, so there were plenty of men willing to sit outside Knight’s door, drink a little beer, and keep anyone else from coming near.

Knight fired off his email and was about to close his laptop when Hank stopped him. Hank pulled out a USB thumb drive and gave it to the older man, who deftly connected the drive and brought up its contents.

“Just some maps, digital photos, and notes that I’ve made regarding the plan I developed. Read them at your leisure. The main part of the plan is based on Orlin’s use of a tracking device to guide his delivery planes across the border to the temporary landing strips. The device is basically a cellphone with a GPS hook-up. At first I thought it would be a hassle to duplicate, perhaps even impossible, but I’ve already procured a duplicate and put it through a test run with success.”

“This is that device here?” Knight asked, pulling up one of the digital photos.

“Yes, that’s it. It’s not very large. In fact, it can be easily put into his jacket pocket and kept there during the whole operation. No bigger than a small cellphone,” Hank said.

“Why doesn’t he just use a cellphone? Why this device?”

“This device runs on a different frequency, and it is nigh impossible to snatch out of the air amidst all the other signals bouncing around those canyons and mesas. The plane’s hound receiver gives the pilot a map display and pinpoints Orlin’s signal within a meter of his real position.”

“So, no talking, no communication of where Orlin is going to be to the pilot. The plane leaves, flying blind until Orlin broadcasts his location,” Knight said.

“Exactly,” Hank agreed. “Which is perfect, really. No need for extraneous bullshit, which most of the time only opens up opportunities for mistakes and DEA tracking. Also, the pilot cannot be forced to give information he doesn’t have.”

“How much are we looking at here?” Knight asked, pulling up a digital photo of the plane — a twin engine cargo design.

“Two to three hundred kilos.”

Knight’s jaw dropped a little as he quickly did the math. “That’s a little over eight million, Hank.”

“Like I said,” Hank assured him, “total reprisal.”

Knight nodded. “Alright. Let’s delve into the details.”

For the next two hours, Hank told his elder everything: all the places things might go wrong and what he had in place to deal with those possibilities.

Afterward, Knight sat back from the keyboard. He leaned back in his chair, looking at the white painted slats and exposed beams of his roof. “This really is far more than I expected from your operation, Hank, far more. And as you suggested, it’s well within the bounds I gave you. From this point, until we have a hand-picked crew for the pickup, you are a ghost in this matter. If even a breath of this is whispered into Orlin’s ear, the whole club could be in trouble and war could be imminent.”

“I was thinking the same thing, especially since I am going to be required to maintain my position and standing with Orlin before vanishing completely out of his world,” Hank agreed.

“You have an exit plan?” Knight asked.

“Yes, a good one, and a backup,” Hank said. “I’ll need a half-mil from the proceeds, after. Is that agreeable?”

“No,” Knight told him, sitting up to his desk again and putting his forearms down on the surface, “but a full mil would be.”

“That seems a bit much,” Hank mumbled.

“It’s not,” Knight told him, “and both Howey and Margaret would agree with me. This is going to hurt him and cripple his confidence in his staff and procedures. This will likely put an end to several of his enforcers as he searches for the hole in his security. You are going to need to exit cleanly. A mil is going to come in very handy once Orlin gets to searching his hacienda for mice.”

“Alright,” Hank agreed. “What I don’t use I can always bring back.”

Knight nodded at the large man’s doubt regarding his own worth in this matter and smiled. “So, the lower the profile you cast around here for a while, the better. Maybe you can talk that little red filly into a ride with you up the coast and some one-on-one time away from club politics. She’s a good one, by the way. Probably a keeper, just so you know up front. You haven’t been looking to be tied down in the past, so consider yourself fairly warned.”

“Think she’s casting a loop then, do ya?” Hank grinned.

“Nope,” Knight told him. “I think you will be, once you’ve spent some time with her. How are you with cash?”

“Drug running pays pretty well. I’ve got quite a wad in my pocket, and more in hidden stashes for just-in-case emergencies,” Hank assured him. “Rent is paid up for a year, gas and electric has a nice budget of pre-paid monies. I think I’m ready for either hibernation or clean getaway riding, whichever is required.”

“No temptations of keeping the lifestyle? No qualms about the plan?” Knight asked.

“Hell no,” Hank told him, clenching his fist. “In fact, it’s taken quite a bit of restraint not to cross your boundaries and put a large hole in Orlin’s head — him and that fucking Ernando. But, this isn’t about me; it’s about Howey and Margaret. So, I’ve kept to the objective and the boundaries. The sooner we’re done though, the better.”

Knight studied him. “Your cool thinking under highly emotional situations is the reason I asked you to do this and not one of the others. Anything else?”