Breath on the Wind (27 page)

Chiz had finished setting the television up by the time she handed him one of the beers.  He’d already found a sports channel to put on.  Andy nudged a few of the boxes out of the way, just enough that they could walk through the apartment without tripping over something every time they moved.  When she turned back around, Chiz was already settled on the sofa.

Andy joined him.  As she sat down, Chiz lifted his arm so that she could curl in against him.  Once she was comfortable, he dropped his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“Do you think Shark’ll make it through the birth without passing out?” She asked.

Chiz snorted.  “Hard to say.  I’ve seen that fella… well… he’s not usually the squeamish type, but he loves that girl like oxygen.  Seein’ her in pain might well lead him to do somethin’ that lands him in jail.  Or he might pass out.  If he passes out he ain’t never gonna live it down.”

Andy was quiet a while, as she considered the dynamics of the new group she’d been thrown into.  She liked them all, and their easy way of being with each other.  It spoke of friendships formed over years, but they hadn’t made her feel excluded, at all.  They’d welcomed her right in with open arms.  But it did leave her wondering just how much of that family element that Chiz might be craving. 

“Do you want that? To be a father?”

“Huh?” Chiz asked, distracted from the game he’d been watching.  Andy had been silent long enough that it must have seemed like her question had come out of nowhere, but she saw him piece the words together, and grasp the meaning.  He turned the television off before he answered.

“Doll, I hope this ain’t a deal-breaker for us, but no.  I wouldn’t be a good dad.  Does that disappoint you?”

Andy shook her head.  “No not at all.  I don’t think I’d be good with kids, either.  I like things neat and tidy, and I like doing things my way too much.  Kids mean sticky handprints and mess, permanently.”  Andy shivered.  “That’s probably my worst nightmare.  I don’t mind them, but I like to be able to give them back.”

“We’ll be crazy Aunty Elmo and Uncle Chiz then.”  Chiz grinned down at her.

“I’m stuck with that name now, aren’t I?”  Andy sighed with exaggerated woe.

“Yeah.  You are.”

“Okay.  I have one request, though.”

“Which is?”

“Please don’t call me that when we fuck.”

“You got it, doll.”

Chiz put his beer down on the floor.  Andy followed suit, and when Chiz turned onto his back she allowed him to pull her up and over him. 

“You’re up for some practice, then?”

“Practice makes perfect, doll.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Prior to the last two months, Chiz had lived a simple life.  There had only been the club in his world.  Conflicts had only occurred when his own nature spiraled out of control.  In that previous life, Chiz had enjoyed riding solely for the feel of the road.  He would empty his head of everything but the wind rushing past him, the blacktop flowing under his wheels, and the sun shining down on him, and he would become a part of the world. 

Since Elmo had come into his life, Chiz had begun to value time on the road as time to think, without interruption.  Currently he was heading east on a run for the Rojas family, and he was making full use of the time to clear his mind, and order his thoughts.

He couldn’t wait to get started on looking for a house with Elmo.  During the past week, since Elmo had moved to Absolution, he’d spent every night at her apartment.  He’d even gone back there after Friday Church, instead of staying to get his drunk on with his brothers, which had raised some eyebrows.  He liked the place itself just fine, but it was on the third floor, and he was finding that he actually got a little itchy knowing that his bike was out on the street.  It was strange, but no less true. 

They had a lot of scouting to do.  Not just for homes, but a location for her new club, too.  She’d put feelers out in the community for new people to work with her, but Chiz suspected that she was going to be one busy dominatrix until she could build up a reputation for the place.  The strip club side of it would be the real earner in the meantime.  Ferret’s old lady had been more than happy to help with the project, and had offered to travel over and guest star herself once a month, in addition to helping to recruit talent. 

Elmo’s insurance company was taking its sweet time paying out on the old club, but the MC was standing the startup costs of the new club, until the money came through.  Apart from her Louboutin habit, which was mostly under control, neither Elmo or Chiz were big spenders, and they’d found they had plenty of capital to work with when it came to finding a home that suited them both.  Elmo was already putting together a list of properties that looked interesting.  Chiz was happy to leave that to her, and just give his yea or nay when he saw them for real.

Crash had finished running his checks on Shane, and the news was good.  There was nothing that had flagged up any concerns.  The table had been enthusiastic about that new Prospect, and Samuel himself had offered to be Shane’s sponsor.  Chiz had spoken to the big fella shortly after Samuel had called him with the news that his Prospect status had been approved.  Chiz didn’t think Shane ever got to a state of actual giddiness, but the big man had been close when Chiz had called him.

They could have used Shane’s presence today.  They were woefully shorthanded.  Crash was useless on these runs; he was fairly guaranteed to lay his bike down on long journeys, and no one wanted to risk that happening while they were guarding highly illegal cargo.  Neither Kong nor Fletch could handle the distance, and Morse, although riding, struggled with so many hours in the saddle.

Consequently, Shark was courting Ashleigh’s wrath by taking such a long trip away from home, barely a full week after his daughter, Deanna Belle, had been born.  Chiz absolutely did not want kids of his own, but that little pink cherub was nothing but a bundle of adorable.  Until she filled her diaper, anyway. That green shit was not adorable.

Chiz wasn’t entirely happy with the lineup for the run; Samuel, Terry, Shark, himself and Sinatra.  They weren’t using Prospects on the runs now, not since shit had gotten tense with the Rojas family.  They needed experienced hands on deck.  For the same reason, Chiz’s discomfort stemmed from Samuel and Terry being on the run together.  He didn’t like having the two first officers of the club in a vulnerable situation together, but they had little choice. 

This run hadn’t involved guarding a truck, and so hadn’t needed the decoy van.  The merchandise was in the saddlebags, and in a slight variation of routine, they were making the drop at an industrial compound, rather than a populated area.  When the information had been relayed to Samuel, it had been explained that the change was intended to keep the drop secret from the rogue Rojas son and his new friends.  Chiz understood the reasoning, but he wasn’t comfortable with it.  But it wasn’t their place to argue; they were just the delivery boys.  Still, as SAA, Chiz had insisted everyone carry extra weapons.  It made the bees in his head just a little less buzzy.

Dusk was falling as they arrived at the destination they’d been given.  It looked to be some sort of chemical processing plant.  Everything was metal tubes, of all shapes and sizes.  It was like a steel maze, with strange shadows thrown by the tall towers and halogen security lights.  In Chiz’s opinion, tactically, this place fucking sucked for carrying out an operation of this type.  Sure they were well hidden, but there was no clear line of sight around them.  Any enemies would be equally well hidden.  If anyone suggested this place again, Chiz was going to do his damnedest to shoot that shit down.

Eduardo was waiting with the pick up crew.  Chiz didn’t like that either.  It was good to know that someone they trusted was around, at least they knew they were handing the goods over to the right people, but such a senior figure was another target in the mix.  Chiz’s mind and body switched to DEFCON One.

Sinatra and Terry began the transfer of the goods from the saddlebags to the Cadillac Escalade that was parked and waiting with Eduardo and his men.  Eduardo was exchanging pleasantries, and probably information, with Samuel.  Chiz and Shark, who was no happier with the setup, were standing guard, side-arms out and pointed at the ground.  Eduardo’s men had their own guns out.  They had shifted, but otherwise not reacted, when Chiz and Shark had drawn.  They’d both done so in a deliberately slow manner, to make it clear they were only intending to add to the ranks of guards.

Terry slammed the door of the Escalade shut behind the last package, and all hell broke loose.

Men, dressed in black and disguised with bandanas and balaclavas over their faces, appeared out of the metal city, shooting as they came.  Chiz turned and started to fire back as he was still registering that they were there at all.  He saw Samuel drop to the ground with Eduardo.  He felt sick, thinking they’d been hit.  They were out in the open with no cover, but then both men started to crawl on their bellies towards the Escalade, as the men who had been armed and ready closed ranks around them.

The deadly anarchy continued as Chiz found cover, and tried to get an idea of where his brothers were.  He spotted Shark, and immediately saw a faceless man behind him raising his gun.  No, his brother would not die today, not with that precious little girl waiting for him at home.  Heedless of his own situation, Chiz stood to get a better angle, aimed and fired, and the man went down, minus a large portion of his skull.

Shark, having spotted Chiz’s movement, turned, smiling his thanks.  Shark’s face fell.  Chiz whirled, firing blindly as he did so, using his brother’s expression as a mirror.  Chiz wasn’t quite quick enough.  The man that had come up on his rear, the one that Shark had seen, managed to get a shot off close enough to graze Chiz’s arm.  Chiz felt the burning pain, and almost dropped his gun as the immediate shock numbed his nerves. 

He forced himself to keep ahold of his weapon, to take hold of it with his less dominant hand as he hit the ground.  His breath slammed out of him as he hit the dirt, full on his back, but by the time the man that was trying to kill him had come to stand over him, he was able to bring his gun up and fire.  If the cocky bastard had tried to shoot him from a distance instead of getting up close and personal, Chiz knew he would have been toast, but the arrogant fucker ended up taking a bullet to the eye for his hubris.

Chiz willed his body to follow his orders.  His right arm was burning where the bullet had gouged the flesh, but his hand and fingers were working again, so he ignored the pain in favor of accuracy and drew his backup gun.  Two guns were better than one, but his primary was almost out of ammo.  He needed better cover.  Bullets whizzed over his head, to the percussion of the bangs of the shots and the tinny pings as the missiles bounced off the metal twisted all around them, doubling the danger of getting hit.

The ambush had caught them by surprise, but they were not outnumbered.  As he tried to make his way to the Escalade to check that Samuel was still safe, Chiz saw that two of Eduardo’s men were down, but that those that remained were gaining the upper hand, and moving forward.  Eduardo’s men were carrying small machine guns.  They had better firepower and more ammunition.  Chiz was happy to let them lead the sweep.

The shots began to fade out, and Chiz knew that the battle was over.  He still kept fast and low as he ran in a crouch to the big, black SUV.  Samuel was behind one of the doors, whole, and with his gun out, scanning for targets.  The metal was covered in circular dents, dull silver craters in the paintwork.  Eduardo had brought a bulletproof car.  Chiz wondered if the whole drop hadn’t been bait.  He wasn’t too pleased about that.

A few staccato shots followed, and then silence fell like a blanket.  The complete quiet lasted moments, before the sound of shouts, curses and scuffling reached them. The brothers of the Priests MC stood and waited for Eduardo’s men to return with whatever they were dragging with them.

“Everyone whole?”  Samuel asked.

Chiz had to cough before he could answer; the adrenaline had hoarsened his voice.  “Yeah.”

“You’re bleedin’,” Shark commented as he waked over.

“It’s a graze.  I’ll live.”

Terry joined them, and prodded at Chiz’s arm, peeling the sticky edges of his hoody and shirt away from the wound.  “It’s kinda deep.  Needs wrapping, but I don’t think you’re gonna bleed out from it.  It’s too wide to stitch.  No point riskin’ a trip to the ER.

“Here, use this.”  Shark pulled a bandana from the face of one of the dead assassins, and handed it to Chiz.

“Bet it’s full of traitor cooties,” Chiz muttered as he took it, causing Shark to laugh, but he still let Terry tie it around his bicep to stem the bleeding.

Eduardo and his men emerged, dragging one of the would-be assassins with them.  The man looked to have been shot in both legs.  Chiz could tell from the trail of blood behind him that he wasn’t leaving this place alive.  The man holding him tossed the shooter roughly to the ground.  The assassin lay, groaning and writhing.  He outright screamed when one of Eduardo’s men placed his boot on his mangled knee and started to apply his body weight. 

Eduardo crouched down by the prisoner’s head.  Chiz could see his lips moving, and heard the sounds of the words, but he was speaking Spanish, which was not a language that Chiz knew.  Still, Chiz was in no doubt that an interrogation was underway.  There was a crunch as the prisoner’s knee gave.  There was some more screaming, some words shouted between agonized gasps, and then one shot as the informant was executed.

Eduardo fairly sauntered over.  He was a little scuffed and dusty, he brushed his shirt and dress slacks off as he walked, but the suave fucker did not look like someone who had just been in a deadly gun battle.

“My apologies, gentlemen, for such a rude interruption.”

Samuel sounded about as impressed as Chiz felt.  “Eduardo, I’m just gonna ask outright.  Was this a setup?  Were we worms on a hook?”

Eduardo held his hands up, palms outwards.  “No,
ese
.  I assure you.  Our reasoning for changing the location was as we said, but it appears we have a leak deeper with our circle than we knew.  That
puta
,” Eduardo barely acknowledged the man he had been questioning, “confirmed that since we are now aware, and watching for impersonators at these exchanges, they have resorted to outright stealing.  Unfortunately he was too junior to know where the information regarding tonight had come from.  I can assure you Samuel, we will find out before we put your club in this situation again.”

Eduardo held his hand out, and Samuel shook it, but said as he did so, “I’m gonna take that on faith Eduardo, but I really do not enjoy bein’ shot at.”

“Me either,
ese
.  Me either.”  Eduardo nodded towards Chiz.  “Your man is hurt.  Do you need medical attention?”

Samuel answered on Chiz’s behalf.  “It’s a scratch.  Nothin’ some bandages and whiskey won’t fix.”

“I cannot help with the whiskey,
ese
.”  Eduardo clicked his fingers, and motioned at the Cadillac. 

One of his men opened a scarred rear passenger door, and reached inside.  When he emerged, he was holding a sizeable first aid kit.  Terry accepted it and tucked it into his saddlebags.  Chiz hoped that whiskey was still going to factor into his night somewhere.