Hard Rider

Talon narrowed his eyes. “You want more? Besides your woman back, safe and sound? What, that ain’t good enough for you?”

“This little spat between Sarkonov and you doesn’t have anything to do with us,” I replied as calmly as I could manage. “We were dragged into this just as much as you were… if I’m going to do this, then I need something more from you.”

He growled angrily. “Name the price.”

“You came to me out of desperation with an offer that benefits us both,” I reasoned out. “Someday, I’m going to need a favor when I’m in trouble… I want your word that I can count on you for help.”

“You want to be allies,” the biker president muttered aloud, stroking his graying beard.

“For now, we have a common threat,” I clarified. “When this is done, instead of turning our backs… we will be in debt to one another. You and I might have had our differences in the past, but there’s no reason to hold onto old grudges. Let’s clear the fucking blood out of water.”

I held out my hand.

Talon regarded the gesture carefully, his eyes glued to the extended limb. I could see the cogs in his head turning, running through the possibilities, on the lookout for any hitches…

“I will offer your charter formal recognition from the Los Angeles Devil’s Dragons, and all the benefits as such. No longer will you scramble through the desert on your own… Hunter, you realize that this is a two-way street.”

“You want access to the Outlaws,” I replied. “You want to use us as a gateway to them.”

“Perceptive,” he chuckled.

“I can’t guarantee that,” I replied calmly. “They might answer to me, but I can only bend them so far. If they want to speak to you, the decision will be theirs to make, not mine.”

“I’m am an old man on death’s door. I can’t protect my family alone… I need strength in numbers, Hunter,” he replied. “I seek sanctuary for my men, in these dark times, particularly with those as high and dangerous as Sarkonov gazing down upon us…

“I recognize what you have accomplished with your united band of renegades. If I can ally with them, then I won’t be alone when my next enemy appears…

“Do we have an understanding?”

I straightened my hand. “I believe so.”

Talon’s rough, ancient hand grasped mine with a firm, resolute shake. “Welcome back, Hunter Hargreaves… against our enemy, my resources are yours for the taking.”

If the stakes weren’t so high, and if my woman and unborn child didn’t hang in the balance… I would have been happier to make my old nemesis my reluctant, powerful ally. But there was no time for that.

“How long do we have?” I asked, withdrawing my hand from his grip.

“There’s a GPS tracker on the truck. The proxy is apparently sticking to the back roads. A direct cut down I-10 will take you where you need to go. If you leave now, you’ll have time to position your people and wait for her approach.”

“And Sarkonov?”

Talon chuckled. “She keeps her appearances very, very brief. She’ll show up, but you’re going to have to let her proxy think everything went smoothly. Let her get to the drop-off point. Wait till the bitch finally shows her face before you do anything.”

“You said you have resources…” I recalled, glancing over his shoulder at the truck. The driver gruffly acknowledged me with a curt nod. “What do you have?”

Talon smiled evilly.

“Guns, Hunter… lots and lots of guns.”

At my calling, half my men assembled behind me. I directed them to the van, and they unloaded several wooden crates and dragged them inside.

While they were clearly confused that Talon was coming in behind me, they crowbarred open the containers to reveal a bevy of assault weaponry and handguns in an array of options. Half of the crates contained brand new bulletproof vests – a fortunate choice, as we were running low on ours.

“Listen up, everyone,” I spoke over the clatter of the guns. The room went silent as all eyes trained onto me.

“It should be no surprise that Talon and I don’t exactly see eye to eye,” I paused, glancing his way, “but we have come to set our differences aside for the sake of a greater threat.”

“Soroka Sarkonov,” Grizz responded. “You’re going to challenge Soroka Sarkonov.”

“Sarkonov sends someone to act as her representative, someone we call her proxy,” I reminded them, reaching into my pocket. “This person is dangerous enough to enjoy full cooperation of the criminal underworld wherever he or she goes.”

Within seconds, I was holding out the smartphone that he had given me. “This phone belongs to Sarah. Talon has brought it here as proof that she’s been taken. In a few hours, Soroka is meeting up with her proxy. When that happens, if we aren’t there first, Sarah is going to die.”

“You will not ride alone,” Grizz stepped forward. “If Sarah is in danger, then you shall have my gun at your side.”

The Dragons glanced amongst one another, unsure on how to proceed. Despite my conviction, I sensed their clear and apparent apprehension. I was asking them to fight the goddamned boogeyman. Nobody had ever gone after Soroka and came out alive on the other side.

“I won’t pretend that I’m not asking the world of you,” I addressed them. “This is the woman who bears my child… I’m going. I will ride alone or I will ride with my brothers. I certainly will not begrudge–”

“Aye,” spoke Ricochet. Cutting me off.

“Aye,” spoke Skid.

“Aye,” spoke Victor.

Soon, the room filled with the confirmations that I feared might never come. My men had my back. My Devil’s Dragons would fearlessly follow their leader into battle against even Soroka Sarkonov.

My gaze shifted to Talon. A confident smirk begrudgingly crossed his lips, and he gave me a slight nod to offer a token of respect.

“Suit up, boys,” I addressed my motorcycle club. “After that, we ride due east. Our objectives are to rescue Sarah Buchanan, defeat Sarkonov’s proxy, and take down the bitch herself! Let’s get some!”

The men roared with war lust as they scrambled to throw on bulletproof vests, load the weapons, and prepare for a fight.

“I need to know where I’m going, Talon,” I turned to my surprise ally, who followed me past the swarm of men. “The moment the men are ready, I want to be hitting the road.”

“Of course,” he replied, withdrawing a map from the inside pocket of his jacket. “I’ve taken the liberty of marking out what I think her rendezvous coordinates are going to be… And here’s a phone tracking her in real time…”

Unfolding the map, I held it up and scrutinized the markings, comparing it to the map on the phone. The small dot moved slowly along a winding road, taking Sarah further and further from me with every passing second. Talon indicated a pullout point just past Temecula.

“Here?” I pointed to a red dot.

“That’s the place,” Talon nodded, stroking his beard. “If you leave now, you won’t even need luck on your side…”

He was right. The rendezvous point looked fairly accessible from the main interstate, and I suspected that we could beat our enemies there with time to set up an ambush.

Talon stepped back to talk with his single accompanying biker, and I found myself face to face with my second-in-command, Grizz.

“Permission to speak freely, sir.”

“You know you don’t need my fucking permission

Grizz,” I replied. “You always have clearance to speak your mind with me.”

“Talon is not telling you everything that he knows,” Grizz spoke ominously.

“I think I’d be more surprised if he was telling me the whole fucking truth. Friend or foe, the old bastard’s all that we have right now,” I said, casting a sideways glance back at the president of the Los Angeles Devil’s Dragons. “Thy have Sarah, Grizz. I have to get her back.”

“I’m with you,” Grizz said, grabbing my shoulder.

“Good… let’s ride.”

Hang on, baby, I mentally called to Sarah as I made my way to my bike, as I heard the sound of my men clamoring behind me to their own motorcycles. The ominous air was filled with gun-stained vengeance.

We’re coming for you.

Sarah

When I awoke, the first thing that I was aware of was the throbbing pain in my head – a swirling spiral of aching that eclipsed all of my thoughts. The second thing was that I was bound awkwardly and hastily, with my wrists tied behind my back.

The third was that I’d become blind.

After a bout of horrendous panic, I realized that it wasn’t that I was actually blind. I felt the constant movement of my prison, and the bumping of the road beneath me.

That meant that not only was I locked in the missing storage container, but Hannah had successfully removed it from the Port of Los Angeles.

It was on the truck, heading God knows where… rigged to possibly explode, with me trapped inside.

And it was lead-lined…

Panic gripped at me. I didn’t feel unwell, but there was no way to tell if the bomb in this container was leaking radiation. The lining could have just been a contingency, or maybe this thing had been slowly making me sick as I laid here for who the fuck knows how long…

After all, I was a goddamn private eye, not a fucking expert in nuclear physics.

I wondered if she was driving it now, or relying on someone else to do so while she rode shotgun. Maybe she wasn’t even in the same vehicle, choosing to run in an escort vehicle.

Either way, I was pretty much fucked.

I tried to wiggle around and see if I could dislodge my phone from my jeans. If that were so, at least I could use it for a light source. I’d get a grasp of my surroundings so that I didn’t accidentally bump into something prone to bursting into flames, especially given who really owned the container that served as my jail cell.