Beck's Six

Leslie swallowed. This was not just some biker gang planning an ordinary whatever. Whoever these guys were, they meant big trouble. Even she could tell that. Why the hell hadn’t she just stayed on the mountain where everyone else was? There had to be plenty of bike trails over there she could have checked out. But no, she had to go “exploring.” And what was behind that man-made door anyway? It looked like it belonged in a garage. She’d never seen people build doors like that right into a mountain.

She’d have to find a way out of here without them seeing her and get back to Hank and the Brotherhood Protectors. This definitely sounded like something for them to handle. But she couldn’t move as long as that guy was standing out there smoking himself to death, plus, she had no idea when the other two thugs would return.

How on earth did she get herself into these things? All she’d wanted was a mountain bike ride and to enjoy the fresh air.

She held herself as still as possible in her hiding place, afraid to move lest she give herself away. The men spoke only occasionally now, and she wondered if they were ever going to go back to what was behind the weird door.

Eventually she heard the roar of the motorcycles, the sound increasing as they got closer until finally it ceased altogether.

“Well, Vern?” Leslie identified the voice as belonging to the blond man. “What did you find? Are we clear?”

Vern. What kind of name was that?

“Fuck no,” the man apparently named Vern answered. “They’ve got a damn crowd over there, spread out all over the place. Right, Stryker?”

Another odd name. Leslie knew most of the men in Brotherhood Protectors had nicknames from their time in the military, and most had just kept them. But they weren’t weird like this.

“If I didn’t think it sounded stupid,” Stryker answered him, “I’d say the cops or the government have set up a training camp over there. And a pretty intense one.”

“What?” Leslie pegged the question as coming from the blond man. “What the hell? What are we supposed to do now?”

“We’re going to stick with the plan,” Vern assured him. “We just need to make a few adjustments. But everything is all set. All in place. I’m not going to let some guys playing war fuck it up. We’ll handle it however we have to.”

Nausea bubbled up in Leslie’s throat. She had to get out of here. Would they please just go inside their damn mountain?

She shifted her weight slightly, jarring a couple of large pebbles loose. They banged against her bike and tumbled out from her hiding place.

“What was that?” This was Stryker. “Did you guys hear that?”

“Hear what?” the blond asked. “I didn’t hear nothing.”

“You wouldn’t hear a wolf if it howled in your face,” Vern snapped. “Did anyone come by here while we were gone?”

“No. Uh-uh. It’s just been me and Adam.”

“And none of the rest of the guys are here?”

“You told them midnight,” Stryker reminded him. “You didn’t want a crowd hanging around that could be seen from one of the nearby peaks.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.”

“Probably just a rock coming loose,” the blond said.

“Let’s hope nothing made that happen,” Vern growled.

Leslie waited through several seconds of silence, hoping they’d forget about it. She had just about figured they’d gone back inside their mountain when a man stepped around the big rock at her back and grabbed her arm.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here? Someone send you to spy on us, little girl?”

Her throat was so dry, she could hardly get the words out. “I was just taking a ride.”

“Yeah? Then why are you hiding here behind these rocks?” He looked at the others. “You guys entertaining visitors now?”

“No.” The blond shook his head. “You know better than that. We know better than that. We’ve got important business to take care of.”

“Maybe she’s with that bunch on the other mountain,” Stryker suggested.

Vern looked at her, squeezing her arm until she flinched at the pain.

“Are you? Part of that bunch?”

Should she say yes and tell them Hank and the others would be looking for her? No. They’d probably kill her and bury the body, so she just shook her head.

“Get her inside,” the blond man said. “Let’s not keep her out here just in case someone is looking for her. Then we can figure out what to do with her. This is a critical operation for us, Vern, and those people across the way might throw a kink into it. She could end up being a good bargaining chip.”

“Good point. Very good point. That brain of yours is working after all.”

“Thanks.”

“But close the damn door,” Vern snapped. “What were you told about keeping it open?”

“No one was here,” the blond grumbled.

“Well, someone’s here now, and we can’t afford to let her pass the word about it.” His grip on Leslie’s upper arm tightened. “Come on, girlie. You’re so curious about what’s in here? Come take a look. You won’t get to tell anyone anyway.”

Getting a closer look at it, Leslie realized the door was similar to those in garages, set on rails that could raise and lower it. What on earth? Who put all that work into a door in a mountain anyway? For what? Who were these people?

God. There was something behind it that was obviously a problem. Would they kill her to keep it secret?

“Come on.” Vern headed for the opening, dragging her along with him. “Let’s find out what you’re all about. Stryker, stash that bike and let’s get the door closed.”

The door led into the interior of the mountain, to a huge space that had been cleared and now held nearly a fleet of trucks and stacked cases of something along one side. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good.

Vern dragged her to one side and shoved her down on a sealed case.

“Now, missy, how about telling us what you’re doing here and if it has something to do with that crowd across the way.”

* * *