The sand was cooling on the west coast beach, and in the mellow afternoon light small crabs had started scuttling along the shoreline. Hundreds of them. The beach, only accessible through the dense forest, was deserted. A rare wilderness. A sacred place for his iwi, his tribe. Everything he was now, was because of them. His ancestors.
And yet, up until an hour ago, he’d had no family to call his own. None that would talk to him anymore.
They’d shunned him after his brother deserted the Cobras and set his family against him. As far as his father was concerned he’d brought shame on the family. And words like that couldn’t be unsaid.
And then today, his brother had called him. Out of the blue, after fifteen long years. He’d got his number through the kid, Rawiri. And when they spoke it was like everything was all okay again.
From the call, he was right. Rawiri had split loyalties. He’d fair grilled the lad after they’d found the false trails had all been marked out, but Rawiri had toughed it out. He’d been too soft on the boy. But then, Rawiri’s old man had saved his skin a few times against the Mongrel Mob and he owed him. That favour had been repaid today.
King reached behind his neck and took off his pounamu necklace. The large, spiral-twisted jadestone felt warm in his hand.
His grandmother had given it to him a long time ago, the night before he’d first gone overseas. It had comforted him in his first lonely weeks in that strange cold place on the other side of the world. It had helped him until he’d gotten on his feet, become one of the rugby boys.
And when the injury put paid to his professional rugby career and he’d found himself back in Auckland, skint, he’d nearly sold it. His gammy leg meant he couldn’t do much hard graft.
He hadn’t. Instead, he’d been stoked when he saw how much he could earn by selling a few wraps of the homemade skunk brought from back home. Soon he had a string of customers, a dedicated phone line and a gang of boys willing to grab some action too. And his little brother had come in on it.
When he started ruffling feathers, earning too much dosh, the Mongrels moved in to shut him down. His brother witnessed the shots; his first kill.
By rights, he should be facing the rest of his days in prison. But instead of setting himself up against him in court, his brother had cleaned himself up, then gone back north and set his family against him.
All things considered, he’d have far preferred to have taken the jail time.
King rolled the jade twists in the palm of his large hand. It felt comforting now too. So many things to consider.
Was what Tia had said to him, right? The facts didn’t all fit.
He owed Irish no loyalty. When the cops linked him to the Cobras, there’d be a raid and the whole outfit’d be smashed up. Finished. He figured they had a week to clear out and move on.
But he still had a choice. His brother had made that clear in the phone call. He’d opened the door for him. To come back to his family again.
But was he ready to step back in?
Chapter 23
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The plan was simple, Irish considered as he waited in the beach car park by the lake.
The late afternoon sunshine glistening on the still waters, lapping onto the white sandy shoreline. Another time, he’d like to take a holiday, see a bit more of this country.
This place was far too good for the likes of double-crossing government agents. Cops were bad enough, but guys like Sion Edwards who went undercover, they were on another level. And he was going to pay for what he’d done. To his friends, his brother, to him.
Forget the jokers who’d brought him here. It’d taken him ten seconds, if that, to get directions and find the pair. Cobras, he snorted derisively. More like slow worms. If that lot of jokers were thrown out of a plane, they’d struggle to find the ground.
He’d spied the cops swarming around the camping store as he drove past, slowly along the main street on his way out to the lake. He’d squeezed the car through, past the parking spaces stacked up with ambulances and police cars.
He didn’t have long before they’d be tracking him down. He’d cleared out of that crumby motel and had even managed to book himself onto a flight the next evening. He eyed up the gun bag in the seat well beside him. His ducks were lined up. All he needed to do now was finish the job.
He’d seen the outline of Edwards a few minutes before. But, this ex-soldier was no pushover. He needed the element of surprise. So, later, when the lights came on in the house and the love birds were settling down, maybe enjoying a glass or two of wine and relaxing, he’d go in there. Sneak in silently, creep up to the living room, kitchen, bedroom, wherever they were and... Bang. Bang. Happy days.
He still had the knife. He’d had his first taste of Kiwi blood. If he had half a chance, he’d tie them up. Play a little before he shot them. Indulge in a little slicing. Listen to their screams as he mutilated them. Piece by piece.
???
“Mate!”
Ari stepped out of the rusting saloon car he’d borrowed for the trip and embraced his friend by the steps of the porch.
“Wow, this place is amazing,” Ari said, checking out the lodge and then the view of the lake.
“I said I’d get you over here,” Shaun joked grimly. “Thanks for coming.”
“No worries. Is Claire here?”
Shaun looked at him, puzzled, then nodded.
“Cool.”
Ari got out his phone and walked towards the water to make the short call.
“What’s going on, bro?”
In the distance, Shaun heard the popping noise he’d been dreading.
He spun on his heels to see where Claire was.
“What you doin’ Ari?...Mate!... What the..?... You selling us out?”
Ari laid his large hand on Shaun’s shoulder.
“Chill, bro. It’s sweet.”
“What d’ya mean?”
Claire rushed out onto the porch and watched fearfully too as the motorbikes were getting closer, their rumbling becoming ever more thunderous. They were still out of view but in the distance, a thick cloud of dust rose from the track. There were far more than three this time.
“Shaun, trust me, bro.”
Shaun didn’t know what to think. Was Ari in on this too? He’d sent Rawiri. Had the boy saved him or had he led him to the trap with Claire as the bait?
Did Ari know about the contract on them? Was he trying to score a few bucks himself?
Shaun was torn. He looked searchingly at Claire.
Head high, strong and proud, she had a stillness about her now as she faced her fate.
“We stay,” she said quietly, her eyes transfixed by the lake.
“We need to face them. Have it out.”
The roar soon became deafening.
The three stood on the steps of the wrap-around decked porch watching their visitors coming closer.
And soon, twenty or more heavy-duty motorcycles were rolling towards them, ridden by a chapter of the meanest-looking men. And Shaun had seen a fair few bad-ass dudes in his time.
At the front was the toughest of them all. The Cobra King, riding his Harley Davidson like a pure-bred stallion.
They passed the parked up car by the beach and came to a halt up right in front of the lodge. The others stayed in their seats on their bikes, but their leader dismounted his stead and now squared-up in front of the three on the porch.
Like Ari, he was another mountain of a man, a modern-day warrior with his shaved head
and fully tattooed face.
Shaun watched on.
The Cobra King’s eyes were fixed on Claire.
In turn, she held his gaze defiantly.
“What do you want?” she uttered bravely.
“I hear you’re looking for Tane Matene?”
“Yeah, what’s it to you? D’you know him?”
He heard her breath catch.
She edged her way towards him, down the steps of the decking and stood before him.
“Dad?”
He cleared his throat and a couple of the men gave each other a dubious look.
For the first time in his life, King looked unsure of himself.
Uncharacteristically tentatively he took her arm and bent his face down to hers, touching their nose together.
“Claire!”
He swept her into his arms and held her tightly.
“You knew about me?”
He nodded.
“Yeah. Your mother. She wrote me.”
Claire shook her head. All these years and she thought he’d never known he had a daughter.
“Tia called me. Told me you was here. And then, Ari said too… But your mum, she changed your name?”
“Yeah. I took the Williams name when she got married again. She moved on with a new family. As soon as I was sixteen, I left.”
Shaun heard the pain in her voice as she spoke.
Reaching around his neck, the giant biker took off his pounamu necklace. His huge paws placed it gently around Claire’s neck.
“My kuia gave me this. You’ve found your family now.”
“Kuia?”
“My gran,” he said, stroking her hair, “The double twists means two peoples joined. Sticking together, however far apart, whatever shit goes down. Our kuia was right. I found you.”
Leaning up she kissed the deep blue lines of his cheek.
“Thank you.”
Shaun gave Ari a puzzled look.
“Tane’s my big brother.”
Ari shrugged.
“Guess that makes me Claire’s uncle.”
“You knew that, then? The time we went climbing?”
“Yeah about that,” Ari said, kicking the wooden decking boards with his foot “Me and him. It’s complicated, eh.”
“And that’s how I got to go in the waka?”