Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Mattie

We were about to continue with our work when suddenly an alarm sounds, loud and shrill. Rigs jumps to his feet. “That’s our perimeter alert. I need you to go downstairs and lock yourself in my suite, and don’t come out until I call you or come for you myself. No matter what you hear going on outside that door do not unlock the door for anyone.”

My heart is racing, “Rigs, you’re scaring me. What’s happening? I thought you said this was a safe place.”

He unlocks the drawer on the right side of his desk and pulls out a large handgun. “It might be nothing, but I’m not taking any chances. This clubhouse is the safest place on earth for you right now. It’s filled with men who will give their lives to protect you and we’ve got enough weapons and ammo to fight a small war. We’ve got this.”

I swallow thickly, suddenly reluctant to see him putting himself in harm’s way. I say, “Please stay safe out there and watch your back.”

Rigs wraps one arm around my waist it gives me a quick kiss on the forehead. “Don’t you worry about me, sugar. I know how to handle a gun.” He guides me to the door. “You just get to my suite and lock yourself in like I asked. Whatever this is, will be over before you know it.”

I do as he says and race upstairs to his suite, slam the door shut and pull the dead bolt. That’s when I realize there are two more locks, one at the very top of the door and another at the very bottom. I lock the bottom one first and then grab a chair so I can reach the top one. I also realize at this moment that the door isn’t wooden as I had first thought, but painted steel—a bit like the doors bank vaults have. His suite is essentially a safe room. I thought I knew a bit about the Savage Legion from Cleo, but this brings it home as to what a dangerous life they lead.

My mind is racing with possibilities of what could be going on outside, shutters have come across the windows so I can’t see a thing. I suppose anything from a wild animal to an actual incursion could have tripped in perimeter alert. When I hear what sounds like gunfire outside the window, I realize it’s probably not a wild animal. I can only think of a short list of reasons someone might be trying to get into the clubhouse and unfortunately, I’m at the top of that list.

All the warnings the syndicate left on my door rise in my mind, one after another. They threatened to do terrible things to me, and I just shoved all those notes into a drawer and pretended like it wasn’t happening. It’s pretty clear to me at this point that if something like this had happened at my apartment, I wouldn’t have stood a chance. Right now, good men are risking their lives to protect me, and I don’t know how I feel about that. On the one hand I never asked them to do it but on the other I don’t want to see any of them get hurt, least of all Rigs. I’m finally forced to admit to myself that I’ve fallen hard for this hard-working biker. I never thought in a million years I would fall so hard and so fast for anyone but there’s no denying I have it bad for Rigs.

I pace back and forth for what seems like hours. A quick glance at my phone tells me that it’s only been a little less than thirty minutes. I hear shouting and the roar of motorcycle engines as the shooting dies down.

When everything grows quiet, I start to wonder if I should leave the room and go out and check on them. I know Rigs told me to stay in his suite until he came for me, but what if the Savage Legion lost whatever battle they were fighting outside? There could be brothers lying dead or bleeding out right now. I can’t stay here and do nothing. Even if there is a small chance that I might be able to help someone, I’ve got to take it.

I start walking toward the door with every intention of throwing the locks open and rushing out to see if there’s anyone left to save, after sliding open the top and bottom locks just as I’m about to put my hand on the dead bolt, I hear someone on the other side.

When the key turns in the lock I hold my breath, hoping and praying that Rigs is the one to walk through the door rather than some member of the syndicate.

When the door swings open and I see Rigs walk through bloodied and battered, I run straight to him and throw my arms around his waist. There’s this wretched noise that hurts my ears. It takes me a second to realize it’s my own ragged sobs.

Rigs arms come around me like steel bands, and he pulls me into a tight embrace. I feel him press his cheek against the top of my head. He murmurs, “It’s okay. Don’t cry, sugar. I can’t take anything except your tears.”

I don’t reply because I can’t. I’m too busy fighting back my tears, I’m trying to get a hold of myself. I’m used to crisis situations, just not ones involving guns. It takes me a couple of minutes, but I finally managed to calm down.

Without looking up I ask, “Who was it that breached the perimeter? I heard gunfire. I’s everyone okay?”

“Pretty much. My arm was grazed by a bullet, and one of our prospects was shot in the shoulder. Other than that, we’re all good.”

“Who did this?” I ask.

“There aren’t many people stupid enough to roll upon the Savage Legion on our own turf. It had to be Hellfire Hounds MC or the fucking syndicate. It turned out to be the latter.

My head jerks up and I look him in the eyes. “It was because of me, wasn’t it?”

“Now Mattie, don’t go jumping to conclusions.”

“It has to be me,” I insist. “I’m the one they targeted. I’m the one they threatened. And tonight, they came to make good on their threats.” Before Rigs can say anything a horrible thought pops into my head. “Oh my God, do you think them coming here tonight has anything to do with us interviewing Mr. Strawn?”

Rigs puts both hands on my shoulders. “The Savage Legion was in a war with the syndicate long before you got involved. Remember what happened with Siege’s sister’s kids? You and Cleo were just regular CPS employees then. I already told you we took out several of their low-level operatives, rescued some missing kids and the women they had held at their facilities. A few months ago, we took out three members of the original management. At this point, they’re gonna be getting desperate, we believe we’re down to the person in charge. To say that he’s pissed at us would be an understatement. We’ve almost dismantled his whole operation and he’s fucking furious with the Savage Legion. That’s what today was all about. That syndicate leader sent some henchman because he wanted some payback. They got their asses handed to them instead.”

“These guys were definitely syndicate?”

“Like most gang members they have tattoos or markings. With the syndicate they view their members as property, and they’re branded with the word SYN. The first time I saw one of their brands I thought it was something religious, the guy had other tattoos with crosses and shit. The men we killed tonight had the same markings on their chest. Some had brands, others had tattoos. I’m guessing a tattoo means they’re higher up in the food chain.”

Men they killed, I’m too scared to ask how many. What have I stumbled into? But I try and focus myself, I’m involved in all this and I have to make myself useful. “I know this sounds morbid, but can we take close-ups of the brands and tattoos? Our department has been working in cooperation with the state police task force that specializes in gang violence. We have training sessions twice a year, and nothing has ever been said about the syndicate. Images of the brands and tattoos might help them identify syndicate members who are already in the system, and stragglers that end up being arrested in the future.”

Rigs nods his head. “Yes. I can do that if you want. I hate to ask, but would you be able to take a look at the men, see if there’s anyone you recognize? If not, I can take photos of their faces if you prefer.”

I wasn’t wild about the idea, but I had a reason for wanting to see them. Know your enemy. Did I actually know any of these men who had come to attack us tonight? I take a deep breath, “This isn’t the first time that I’ve seen a dead body. If it helps move our investigation forward, I’ll do pretty much anything at this point.”

There’s a brief pause between the two of us as we look into each other’s eyes, the grim realization of our situation settled around us.

“So I guess killing some of his operatives is going to piss the leader of the syndicate off even more. What do you think he’s got planned next?” I ask.

“He’s going to be furious. But so long as he’s angry and preoccupied with vengeance, that gives us an opportunity zero in on him. He’s providing us just the distraction we need to nail his ass once and for all. When people like that are cornered, they start to get sloppy and make mistakes. You wondered if this had something to do with us speaking to Strawn earlier? I don’t know. But if it did it means we’re closing in.”

I slowly untangle my hand from his shirt and smooth it back down. “You always sound so confident. I’m going to borrow some of your confidence tonight because I desperately need it.”

“Feel free to borrow anything I’ve got, sugar.”

I smile weakly.

“Those bodies are not getting any fresher. Hate to be pushy, but I think you probably want to see them now as opposed to tomorrow.”

“I’m not thrilled, but yeah, let’s get out of here and have a look while they’re fresh.” I suppress a shudder and resolve to pull on my big girl panties.

“I told Tank and Dutch, to clean off as much blood as possible because you really need to their faces.”

“And markings,” I say.

“How the hell are you planning to explain photos of dead bodies to your professional buddies in the state police. Won’t they want the scoop on who killed them.”

“I hadn’t thought that far yet. But we could always print them out and send them anonymously. Or strip away the metadata from the images and just telling them that an anonymous person sent them to me via e-mail or text.”

“It’s pretty damn clear that you know the value of an occasional white lie for the greater good.” Rigs laughs.

“I don’t like to lie, but in this situation I think it’s critically important for the gang task force to know about the syndicate. These people are the nearest thing we have to organized crime. The police need to be aware that these people are out there, doing horrible deeds virtually unencumbered by law enforcement. The task force can’t afford to be oblivious about the syndicate anymore.”

“I agree one hundred percent. We can only hope that the entire force hasn’t been corrupted. Now, let’s get downstairs and see if you recognize any of the assholes who tried to wreak havoc on our club tonight.”

Rigs keeps his arm around me as we walk, a gesture that feels both protective and intimate. He takes me out to the patio and the screened off area at the far end. The clubhouse is in a fairly isolated location, but it’s clear that they aren’t taking any chances. I wonder for a moment what would be done with the bodies afterwards, but I quickly park that thought. I really don’t want to know.

Siege motions us over. I can see three bodies clearly outlined under what appear to be thin blue tarps. When we get close, Siege pulls back the top of the first tarp. Underneath is a middle-aged man with a dark beard and black hair. He has a scar running down his right temple. Not an ounce of recognition sparks in my mind when I look at him.

“I don’t recall ever seeing this man before.”

Rigs pulls out his phone and jerks his chin to Siege. “My Mattie wants to capture images of each syndicate brand or tattoo. We think it might help with our case.”

Siege shrugs, immediately pulls the tarp down and opens the man’s button up shirt to reveal his chest tattoo. Just like Rigs explained, there is a large intricate tattoo with the letters SYN entwined with vines and roses sprawling across the man’s chest. I wait patiently as he snaps several close-up shots of the man’s ink. Then we move on to the second body. This is the body of a younger man. He has a boyish face and sandy blond hair. He doesn’t look old enough to be wielding a weapon, much less trying to kill people. I wonder if he’s even an adult. As I gaze down at him, I decide he looks like he is in his early twenties. So, I guess he is technically an adult.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one before either.”

Siege pulls his T-shirt up to his chin and Rigs takes a few pictures of his chest. He has a brand, it looks fresh and it is still healing. I know where’re all responsible for our own decisions but this young man being dead doesn’t sit right with me. I can’t help but think his parents, society, or the system failed him.

“The brand,” I say, “You said that signifies ownership. Do you think he was a member, or could they have made him do this?”

Rigs shrugs, “We’ve had cases where some of the trafficked kids ended up joining the syndicate, either by force or by choice.”

I fight back the tears. I can’t think about what this young man might have gone through. I’ve got to focus on the job at hand. As a CPS supervisor I know only too well what horrors can happen to kids, but seeing this young man lying here is so unspeakably sad. Such a wasted life.

When we move on to the third and final body, I’m not holding out much hope that I will recognize this one either. However, when Siege pulls back the tarp, shock rolls through my mind. He has dark brown hair, tanned skin, and a goatee. I recognize his face right away.

Rigs speaks, “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Just calm down, take some deep breaths, and talk when you’re ready. “His name is Ishal Hall. He’s the maintenance man at my apartment complex. He always seemed so nice and friendly. He’s been working there for years, long before any of us were involved in trying to bring the syndicate down. This just doesn’t make any sense.”

Rigs and Siege exchange a knowing look. Rigs explained gently. “They probably lured him in recently. My best guess is around the time that you stepped into Anita’s old job. They knew you had access to her work computer and all of her files. Any halfway smart villain what they concerned about what you would find when you sat down in her chair.”

I have a thought, “Cleo and I were looking for those missing kids for two or three months before Anita wound up dead. Remember how Cleo got fired, and it turned out Anita was trying to get her to spy on the MC?” I’m still trying to get my head around the fact that Ishal was involved in the syndicate, and I never picked up on the fact that he was watching me. It seems incomprehensible to me. Even looking back, I don’t remember anything that stands out strange or odd about him. That’s when a horrible thought occurs to me. “Do you think it’s possible that Ishal might have bugged my house for the syndicate? I mean, how would he know what I was up to? We talked, but it was more polite chitchat rather than anything personal.”

Rigs freezes with his camera still lifted in the air. “Fuck, why didn’t I think of that. I was too busy wanting to get you safe, I didn’t think to check out your apartment. What you’re saying makes a lot of sense. He had unfettered access to your home when you were at work. He had plenty of opportunities to install cameras or listening devices.”

Siege speaks up. “With your permission, I’d like to take Zen with me and have a look around your place. If there is anything there that shouldn’t be, we’ll find it.”

Rigs chimes in, “You don’t want to go home only to find that his surveillance gear is still in place.”

Truth be told, the thought of whoever is hired to take Ishal’s place ending up with a free peep show makes me sick of my stomach. I don’t know if or how long he might have been monitoring what I was doing inside my apartment, but just knowing it’s a possibility feels like a huge violation.

As if sensing how upset I am, Rigs wraps his arms around me. “I can see that you’re getting overwhelmed, it’s a lot to take in. You’ve been going hard at this for hours since you got off work. It’s nearing midnight. You either need to get some sleep or think about taking a personal day tomorrow.”

“I’m a manager. I can’t just call in whenever I want.”

“Sure you can,” Rigs insists. “Even supervisors get sick. In order for you to be emotionally available when you’re at work you need to take care of yourself. You’re no good to anyone if the breakdown you’re about to have happens at work tomorrow.”

“I’m not having a breakdown, damn it.”

“All I’m saying, is that no one can deal with the kind of stress you’ve been dealing with and not get close to breaking point. Even the strongest person has to engage in a little self-care when the going gets tough. You’re not superhuman. You’re just one woman trying her best to save the world. Take a damn day off.”

Tears sting the back of my eyes as I fight to keep them from spilling down my cheeks. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

Rigs holds up both of his hands in a placating gesture. Then he stated softly, “I care about you Mattie. It would kill me to have to watch you break under the stress these assholes are putting you through.”

I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face in his chest. “Fine, I’ll take a day off just for you.”

“Thank you, sugar. We’re in this together.  I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you. Come on, let’s head back to our suite and try to get some sleep. Maybe things will look different in the morning.”

“What about Ishal’s tattoo? We haven’t taken a picture of that yet.”

Siege pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll take care of that, and send the images to Rigs. Get some sleep.”