{"id":6008,"date":"2020-10-30T21:24:42","date_gmt":"2020-10-30T13:24:42","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.benjamincheah.com\/?p=6008"},"modified":"2020-10-30T21:24:42","modified_gmt":"2020-10-30T13:24:42","slug":"sheriff-of-the-swamps-chapter-4","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/?p=6008","title":{"rendered":"Sheriff of the Swamps Chapter 4"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Three Little Pigs<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

the commotion of the morning, the ferry terminal was once again as lethargic as it was when Kayla had arrived. Yellow crime scene tape blocked off half the parking lot, encompassing the field of combat. A bored deputy stood watch, protecting what little evidence remained. Dark stains marked where the dead men had lain. Wreckers had towed away the stricken vehicles, leaving behind sparkling shards.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The moment they retrieved their things, Clark hired a taxi to return them to the scene of the shoot. They said little during the drive, and nothing of import. The driver was a fan of Clark\u2019s, gushing about the work she had done and the need for a new broom, but he was also an outsider. Operational security remained paramount.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

With their eyeshields in MISD custody for so long, there was no telling what they\u2019d done to them. They scrambled the identity modules on their eyeshields, generated fresh burner numbers on an app, then powered them off and stowed them in RFID blocking bags.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As she worked, Kayla thought of what they had to do. Organize accommodations, plan travel routes, audit security arrangements, prepare backup plans and backups to backups. The shoot had thrown Kayla\u2019s plans out of order. And now that the whole damn world knew who and where they were and what they were doing here, she and James would have to improvise on the fly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They were two steps away from a clusterfuck. They\u2019d have to figure out how to step back from the line, back up towards something resembling normalcy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But first: they needed hardware.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clark\u2019s vehicle sat right at the edge of the crime scene. Technically it hadn\u2019t been involved in the shootout. The techs had already documented its presence, so they were free to drive it away. As Clark hung back. Kayla and James swept the vehicle, hunting for bugs and bombs and anything out of place.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAwfully paranoid, aren\u2019t you?\u201d Clark asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s how we stayed alive,\u201d Kayla replied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As she waited, Clark dug her eyeshields out of an RFID blocking bag and switched it on, just long enough to check for messages and mails. Then she turned them off and stowed them again. No use giving the bad guys a way to track them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clark unlocked the doors. As she climbed in, James called out to Kayla.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThere\u2019s a black bag in the trunk. Could you take it out for us?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The trunk was crammed. Traffic and rescue equipment. Spare tire. Fire extinguisher. And a huge black duffel bag.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She hauled it out. It was much, much <\/em>heavier than it looked. Sturdy combination locks held the zippers closed. Metal clanked and shifted around as she waddled back around the vehicle. The familiar scent of lubricant drifted into her nose.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kayla clambered into the backseat, setting the duffel bag on her lap.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCombination is 1-6-3,\u201d James said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She opened the lock and zipped the bag open. Inside were two padded compartments, each holding a strapped-down MR-77.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNice,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Very nice indeed. The matte black carbines were a matched pair. Low powered variable optics rode atop the 12 o\u2019clock rails, complemented by a tiny offset red dot sight. Two-point slings dangled from the attachment points. Pressure switches fed to flashlights mounted on the side rails. Grip pods hung off the bottom rails. Thirty-round magazines nestled in the mag wells, ready for use. Each muzzle wore a short, bulky suppressor. Fitted with twelve and a half-inch barrels, the carbines were lightweight and compact, yet still had enough oomph to get the job done.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBoth carbines have identical set-ups and loads,\u201d James said. \u201cPrimary optic is zeroed for 25\/300, offset for point blank. You have three spare mags each in the side pockets, loaded with Silver State ballistic tips.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou do know how to get gifts for a girl,\u201d Kayla said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not quite her preferred setup. But any port in a storm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou need pistols?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI still have my backup.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A matching M99, formerly on her left hip, now migrated to her right. She hadn\u2019t fired it, which was the only reason the deputies had, very reluctantly, agreed to return it to her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ve got a secondary too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMa\u2019am, you\u2019ve got your own weapon too?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes,\u201d Clark said. \u201cThey didn\u2019t take my<\/em> gun, thank God.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf the big bad wolves come for us again, we\u2019ll be ready for them,\u201d James said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOink oink, three little pigs, that\u2019s us,\u201d Kayla said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Everyone exploded in uproarious laughter, louder than gunfire, than grenades, than anything that had come close to them in recent months. Kayla couldn\u2019t help it. The line was so natural, so perfect for their situation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThree well-armed pigs,\u201d James said at last, gasping for breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve got a lot of work and a short day ahead of us,\u201d Kayla said. \u201cWhat\u2019s first on the agenda?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe investigate the hitters.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe know who they are?\u201d James asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJust received an email from a friend. Forensics have confirmed the decedents.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo quickly?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey weren\u2019t trying to hide it. They had their ID on them, and their fingerprints and DNA are on file.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWho are they?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJohn Lambert, Chris Lindon and Joel Brown. The top enforcer of the Hatchet Crew and his two sidekicks.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWho\u2019s the Hatchet Crew?\u201d Kayla asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOutlaw motorcycle gang based in Saint Lucile,\u201d Clark said. \u201cThey specialize in narcotics, gun running, and vehicle theft. The biggest homegrown OMG in Moreno, about eighty members in all, with ties to organized crime on the mainland.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy would they want you dead?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI was in Gangs and Narcotics. The Hatchet Crew was my number one target. If I win the elections, they know they\u2019re on the chopping block.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt looks convenient, but it doesn\u2019t make sense,\u201d James argued. \u201cEverybody<\/em> hates a cop-killer. If they kill you, they\u2019ll just bring down the weight of the law on their heads.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI was thinking that too. Only reason we let them walk around for so long is \u2018coz of lack of evidence and testimonies. Take a shot at a cop and the equation changes. We\u2019ll have every reason to squeeze them night and day. Even the Peebs will want to get involved.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cUnless they\u2019re confident that the SD won\u2019t retaliate,\u201d Kayla said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhich means they have juice with the SD,\u201d Smith said darkly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd they have the New Gods on their side,\u201d James said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe don\u2019t have proof that they\u2019re affiliated with the New Gods. We know they\u2019re pledged to a tutelary spirit, the Black Hatchet, and the New Gods are jealous gods.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut they\u2019re not above working with lesser gods if it suits their agenda,\u201d Kayla said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTrue. There\u2019s only one way to find out what\u2019s going on.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhich is?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe ask them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re joking.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m dead serious. The President of the Hatchet Crew, Tom Sullivan, runs a bar downtown. Every Friday at five pm, before the start of business, he meets with his officers to discuss the week\u2019s business and plan for the following week. If we leave now, we can catch him there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re walking right into the lion\u2019s den,\u201d Kayla said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cExactly. Leave it to the detectives,\u201d James urged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDo you trust them to do their jobs?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t?\u201d Kayla asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo one, and no one<\/em>, takes out a hit on a cop. Especially a cop running for Sheriff. In the underworld, if someone kills a cop during a fight, it happens sometimes. But deliberately hunting a cop? Suicide. Only way they\u2019d do that is if they have juice in the PD.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve got proof of that?\u201d James asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, but it makes sense, doesn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNow you know how I feel every time I bring up the involvement of the New Gods.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve got nothing that shows whether or not they\u2019re involved. But logic tells us that there\u2019s something dirty going on with the Hatchet Crew and the SD. That\u2019s the difference.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t you have friends in the SD?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI do. But the ones I can count on aren\u2019t in Gangs and Narcotics. They don\u2019t have the jurisdiction, or the background, to follow up on this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s your plan? Enter the bar, walk right up to Sullivan and ask, did you take a hit out on me?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPretty much.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCome on! You\u2019re practically delivering yourself on a silver platter!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey\u2019re not going to touch a hair on my head. They kill or disappear me, they will never, ever, be able to conduct business in peace inside the bar again. They know it too. Hell, their headquarters is probably the safest place on the planet for me right now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat do you want to do? What exactly do you get out of it?\u201d Kayla asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI want to look Sullivan in the eye and demand answers. I want him to know that there\u2019s a price for ordering a hit on any cop, on anybody<\/em>, anywhere on Moreno Island.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re angry. Understandable. But you do that, you\u2019re just tipping your hand. After the elections, after you solidify your position, you can go after him. Or you can attack the problem through your friends. You don\u2019t have to do this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Smith sucked in a breath. Her shoulders tensed. Kayla couldn\u2019t see her face from here, but she sensed the emotions roiling off her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cKayla is right,\u201d James said. \u201cYou have more than enough enemies already.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThere\u2019s one more thing too,\u201d Smith said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe last thing they\u2019ll expect is for me to brace them. We do this, we shake them up, knock them off their game. If\u2014when<\/em>\u2014they make a mistake, the SD will clean them out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey could retaliate against you and your family. Have you thought of that?\u201d Kayla asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Smith sighed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes. But we can\u2019t just sit on our hands and wait for them to try again. They\u2019ll learn from their mistakes. We might not have a second chance.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe smart move would be to take your family and go underground until this is all over,\u201d James said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Smith clenched her fists and spun around.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI will not live in fear. For too long we\u2019ve lived in the shadow of the New Gods. Now is our one shot to fight for a better world. If I give up now, we\u2019ll be wasting this chance. You were in the STS, you\u2019d understand that, right?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIn the STS, we had a hundred operators and the backing of the military, police and government. Here, it\u2019s just the three of us,\u201d James said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAs I recall, six STS operators went rogue and took on the New Gods. And won.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

James spread his arms.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe STS was disbanded, we were terminated, we have no hope in hell of getting another job ever again. I wouldn\u2019t call this a victory.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe had Yuri then. Now we don\u2019t,\u201d Kayla said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYuri?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYuri Yamamoto. Our team leader. He\u2026 He could speak to God. His god. He was our secret weapon. Whenever the New Gods showed up, he chanted his prayers and neutralized their magics. It gave us a fighting chance. Here\u2026 we don\u2019t even have a god on our side.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe\u2019s a Christian, isn\u2019t he?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI think so. Why?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She smiled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThere\u2019s more of us in the world than you may think.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clark reached under her shirt and pulled out her necklace. A simple silver cross.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re just full of surprises, aren\u2019t you,\u201d James said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She stowed the cross away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGod is with us. And God helps those who help themselves. This is a golden opportunity to get answers, to deal with this once and for all, and I\u2019m not going to pass it up.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

James sighed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019re not going to be able to talk you out of this, are we?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen we\u2019d better plan for the worst.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd hope for the best,\u201d Clark said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

#<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Hogs & Hatchets stood apart from its neighbors. In a street of concrete build, it crafted from wood. Solid, aged, lacquered wood, proofed against the sun and wind and swampy humidity. A huge sun-faded disk proudly displayed its logo, the head of a warthog backed by crossed hatchets.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bikes crammed the parking lot out front. They were muscular machines, built for speed and control on the open roads, chromed up to reflect the evening sun in a blinding glare. Kayla didn\u2019t have an eye for bikes, but she sensed the raw power pent up in the engines, yearning to be unleashed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A prominent closed sign hung from the main door. But through the darkened windows, Kayla made out a group of men clustered around a large table by the entrance. Clark rapped her knuckles against the door. Every knock was an authoritative boom, shaking the windows and reverberating inside the bar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The men twisted around, orienting to the door. Hands went to hips and belts. The guy closest to the door swaggered over and opened the door a crack.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019re closed,\u201d he spat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He was a short one, shorter even than Kayla. But he radiated meanness from his pores and blazed hatred from his eyes. Stale cigarette smoke wafted around him. His leather jacket, old and never washed, reeked of man-stink and oil and other indescribable fluids.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clark held up her badge.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRemember me, Russel?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDetective Janet Clark,\u201d he snarled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDetective Sergeant<\/em> Clark to you,\u201d she said. \u201cI need to see your boss.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis is a private event. We don\u2019t talk to pigs or niggers.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Russel tried to close the door. Clark rammed her palm against the hardwood, holding it open.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYour boys tried to kill me this morning. Talk to me now or talk to the Special Response Team in ten minutes. Your call.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe fuck do you want?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnswers. This isn\u2019t a bust, but it can be if you want it to be.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou got a warrant?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis is just a friendly chat. I don\u2019t need a warrant for that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo warrant, no chat. Fuck off.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI do that, SRT\u2019s going to come for you. You want that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLet \u2018em\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRuss!\u201d a man shouted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah, boss?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Russel continued glaring at Clark. At James. At Kayla.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLet them in.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBoss\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAs she said, either we talk to her now, or we talk to the SRT.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Russel clicked his tongue.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll be keeping an eye on you two.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He stepped aside. Clark moved to open the door. James laid a hand on her shoulder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cUs first,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

James went first. Kayla entered right behind him. As she passed through the doorway, she reflexively scanned the interior.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The dark and dingy bar stank of cigarettes, alcohol, and rotting bodily fluids. Glasses and bottles stood ready behind the counter, as neatly arranged as soldiers on a parade ground. Wooden tables and chairs filled the tiny space.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

To the right, seven men sat around a pair of tables brought together, taking as their axis a stout bald man with a thick white beard. Russel stood by the counter beside them, crossing his enormous arms. His shoulder patch read \u2018SGT AT ARMS\u2019.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDetective Sergeant Clark,\u201d the bald and bearded man said. \u201cWhat do we owe the pleasure of your visit?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJohn Sullivan,\u201d Clark said. \u201cYour enforcer and his lackeys tried to kill me this morning. Why?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYour guess is as good as mine.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t bullshit me, Sully-John. Everyone knows what happens if you try to whack a cop. Someone put you up to this job. Who is it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJumping to lots of conclusions there, Detective. Why don\u2019t you go out and detect some more before you start spouting off unfounded allegations?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019d believe you if you sent some rando patch. But you sent your enforcer, and he\u2019s room temperature now. You don\u2019t send someone like that unless you really want to get the job done. You ain\u2019t stupid enough to make war on the Sheriff. That means you were hired for a job. Tell us who it is.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sullivan lifted a thick cigar to his lips and took a long, luxurious inhale. He held the smoke in his mouth for a moment, then blew it out as a thick gray stream.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJames Wood and Kayla Fox. Am I right?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWho wants to know?\u201d James asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not important,\u201d Clark cut in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t trust your department to protect you, so you brought in outsiders. Gunslingers and mankillers. You think you can scare us?\u201d Sullivan asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI know you tried with your cute drive-by. It didn\u2019t work. My shooters wasted your<\/em> shooters. You don\u2019t tell me who hired you, who told you where I was, things will get uglier from here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know nothing about no drive-bys and hits,\u201d Sullivan said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A wide shit-eating grin spread over his face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was a lie. Everyone knew it, he knew that everybody knew it, and he knew that Clark knew that she couldn\u2019t act on it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt was the New Gods, wasn\u2019t it?\u201d James asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sullivan arched an eyebrow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt speaks!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat did they promise you? Money? Protection? Status? A chance to become part of them?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sullivan took another puff.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe already have a god. You don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t be so sure about that,\u201d Clark said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Russel snarled. Stepping off from the counter, he bunched his fists and\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEasy,\u201d Sullivan said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Russel snorted. And stayed put.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sullivan turned to Clark.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYour god ain\u2019t here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI am. And I\u2019m not leaving until you tell me who hired you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIs this an interview? Or is it an arrest?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJust a friendly discussion.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat we\u2019re not telling you shit.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHere\u2019s what\u2019s going to happen. You are my prime suspect. I\u2019m personally going to take time out of campaigning to make your business my<\/em> business. Gangs and Narcotics will search every front you own. Traffic will stop you for every minor infraction on the streets. Patrol will keep an eye on you. Everything you do, the SD will keep hammering you hard, until you tell us what\u2019s going on.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Russel glared at Clark. The other bikers shifted in their seats, positioning their hands for a fast draw. Kayla brought her own to her belly and began prioritizing targets. She met their glare with a cool gaze of her own, a fox on the hunt, letting them see her seeing them as prey.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sullivan sniffed hard, as though unimpressed. He leaned back, reached for a glass of golden liquid, and chugged it down in one gulp.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIs that a threat, Miss<\/em> Clark?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA statement of fact, Silly<\/em>-John. We\u2019ll keep squeezing your balls until you start singing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThere\u2019s no \u2018we\u2019 here. Just you and your hired guns.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re saying the SD won\u2019t act?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sullivan grinned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m saying you sound real confident. Over<\/em>confident. I were you, I wouldn\u2019t be so sure about that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid you just admit to knowledge of corruption in the SD?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sullivan laughed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLike I keep telling you from the start. I don\u2019t know nothing. Nobody here knows nothing. But I do know that if you turn to the SD for help, you\u2019ll find yourself disappointed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou want us to squeeze you dry. Got it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He barked a laugh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHere\u2019s my counteroffer. Lie low. Hide out. Wait until this is all over.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI can\u2019t do that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen I can\u2019t guarantee your safety.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re saying you want to throw down, here and now?\u201d James asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The room chilled. The bikers tensed, ready to spring themselves from their seats. Russel\u2019s hand drifted to his hip, his eyes studying Clark\u2019s and James\u2019 and Kayla\u2019s hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCool off a little,\u201d Sullivan said, waving his cigar around. \u201cThis is a friendly discussion, isn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSure it is,\u201d Clark said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen here\u2019s some advice. Lots of people like Moreno Island the way it used to be. You threatening to shake things up. You can\u2019t hope to fight all of them. Give up. Go home to your family. Take a trip somewhere safe. Do that and nothing else will happen to you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd let people like you run this town? Never.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen we\u2019ve got nothing more to discuss.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Russel cracked his knuckles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou heard the boss. Beat it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis isn\u2019t over,\u201d Clark said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sullivan smiled. But his dark eyes were as flat and hard as a serpent\u2019s.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt will be over. One way or another.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Back outside, they regrouped at the car. Once more, Kayla and James swept it, and once more, they found nothing out of place.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

James drove, running an aggressive surveillance detection route. Thirty minutes and twelve blocks away, when they were clear of the area, Kayla finally spoke.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, that worked out well.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe know they\u2019ve got backers. They\u2019re just shooters, not shot callers,\u201d Clark said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe also made enemies out of them, and<\/em> everyone backing them,\u201d James said. \u201cIt\u2019s going to get fast and furious from here on out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve planned for that, right?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFunny thing about plans, they don\u2019t work out the way you want them to.\u201d James sighed. \u201cI hope this plan is worth the risk.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ve got two of the finest operators in the world with me. If anyone can do it, it\u2019s you two.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve just crossed the red line. We can\u2019t step back. All we can do is follow this road all the way to the bitter end,\u201d Kayla said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m ready. Are you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAlways.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Even so, Kayla wondered how many more people would die before this was over.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And whether any of them would be part of that number.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Or all of them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

The last time James Wood and Kayla Fox confronted a Dark Power, it didn’t end so well. Check out their stories in BABYLON BLUES<\/a>!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Three Little Pigs the commotion of the morning, the ferry terminal was once again as lethargic as it was when Kayla had arrived. Yellow crime scene tape blocked off half the parking lot, encompassing the field of combat. A bored deputy stood watch, protecting what little evidence remained. Dark stains marked where the dead men […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[15],"tags":[68,106,143,168,216,253,277,278,284,289],"class_list":["post-6008","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","tag-babylon-red","tag-cyberpunk","tag-free-story","tag-horror","tag-military-science-fiction","tag-pulprev","tag-science-fantasy","tag-science-fiction","tag-sheriff-of-the-swamps","tag-singlit"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6008"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=6008"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6008\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6008"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6008"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6008"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}