SAVING REBEL: Renegade Rebels Motorcycle Club (14 page)

We parked our bikes and the van around the corner, and walked down behind the warehouse, quietly opening the back door Johnny had left unlocked for us.

We walked down a long hallway, and then stopped to watch the men standing in the center of the room.  Hiding in the darkness on the edge of the dimly lit warehouse, we sat back, watching and waiting until Harley gave us a sign.

The warehouse was one big, empty concrete room, with a huge, dark loft hanging on the side of it.  No windows, no ventilation, and suffocatingly hot.

“Dónde está la cocaína?”  Johnny asked Sergio Garcia, the leader of the cartel, the most dangerous drug dealer this side of the Mexican border.

“Dónde está el dinero?” Sergio replied.  

Johnny nodded to another man on his right.  He lifted up a dirty, black duffel bag and placed it on the table between the two groups of men.  The tension was thick, and everyone in the room had their hands placed on the guns at their sides, ready for all hell to break loose at any moment.

I held my breath, keeping one eye on Harley and one eye on the men in front of us.  

The sound of Sergio unzipping the bag was the only sound in the room.  He looked at the wads of cash inside, nodded his head to a man standing on his left, and smiled at Johnny.

Sergio’s man placed two briefcases on the table, and Johnny slowly walked over and opened each of them.  Taking a knife out of his pocket, he stabbed one of the bricks contained inside them.  He stuck his finger inside it, then licked the powdery white cocaine from his finger.

“Delicioso!”  he said, his voice echoing through the warehouse eerily.

“Un placer hacer negocios con ustedes, mis amigos,”  Sergio said.

“A pleasure doing business with you, too,”  Johnny replied in English.  

The loud sound of the latches on the briefcase clicking shut and the zipping of the bags rang in my ears, and as Harley slowly rose from his kneeling position, we all followed suit, one by one standing up and following our leader, our guns drawn, our senses on the highest alert.

We were some tough motherfuckers, no doubt about it, but even the bravest of men would find their hearts racing in a situation like this.  I’m sure none of us took a breath from the moment we walked in the door, and I could have sworn I heard Harley’s heart beating loudly in his chest beside me.

We approached the cartel from behind, the Gatos seeing us, but not letting on that we were there.  The cartel consisted of five men, and we quickly came up behind each one of them, the clicking of our guns at their temples causing them to freeze one by one.

Harley was the only one who spoke, standing with his gun pressed hard to Sergio’s temple.  Sergio and his men dropped their guns right away, their hands rising to the ceiling in surrender.

“Hello, my friend,”  Harley said, circling around to look Sergio in the eye.

“Amigo Hola, mi vestido de cuero,” Sergio replied, his smirk failing miserably at concealing his fear.

“Sergio, I’m so disappointed in you.  You know this transaction is against our agreement.  I don’t have to explain that to a man as intelligent as yourself, now do I?”  Harley smiled, his grin as intimidating as if he were snarling.

“No, amigo,” Sergio replied quietly.

“Sergio, have I been kind to you so far?”

“Yes, amigo, very kind,”  Sergio replied.  His hands were raised above his head, and I saw him shaking and smiled to myself.

“Thank you.  I like to think I’m a kind man.  But here’s the rub, Sergio.  If I’m too kind, people do things like this to me, because they think they can get away with it.  And I just can’t let that happen.”

“No, amigo.”  Sergio’s face was full of fear, and Harley took full advantage of it, pressing his gun directly into the middle of his forehead.  Sweat began to pour down Sergio’s face as he shook his head.

“No.  No is the right answer.  Now, the problem, Sergio, is that I like you.  I like doing business with you, and I would like to continue to do so.”

It was moments like this that made me love Harley.  He was as calm as if he were talking about the weather, while everyone around us were almost pissing their pants in fear.  He had always been like that.  That’s why he was made president so quickly, he handled stress like it was a walk in the park.

“Unfortunately, in order to continue doing business with you, I’m going to need two things from you.”

“Si, amigo.  Anything you want.  I apologize sincerely.”  Sergio knew the right things to say.  It didn’t matter that he was a powerful leader of a huge drug cartel, when someone had a gun pointed at your brain, you tended to do whatever they wanted.

With a smile, if possible.

“Good, good.  First, you’ll need to agree to never go behind my back and sell to any gangs in my territory.  Can you do that?”

“Si, amigo.  Absolutely.”

“Good, good.  And second, I’m going to need to confiscate that product you were trying to sell today.”

Sergio look defeated, and he was.  There was nothing he could do but agree.  What else was he going to do?  Fight us?  Of course not.  He was smarter than that.

“I understand, amigo.”

“Excellent.  Now,”  Harley said, his gun still pressed to Sergio’s sweaty forehead, while he spoke to Johnny.  “Johnny, you and your men can go ahead and leave. Thank you for your cooperation.  Take your cash with you.”

Johnny nodded silently, grabbed his duffel bag, and walked down the hallway, he and his men exiting out the back door of the warehouse.

“Oh, and Sergio, we’re going to be taking these guns, too.  Gather ‘em up, boys.”

Hairy Joe and Hooligan picked up the guns at the feet of the cartel men and then grabbed the briefcases.  We walked out without another word said, Sergio and his men watching us leave, their hands still up in the air as the door closed shut behind us.

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

We roared up to the clubhouse full of piss, vinegar and dangerously increased levels of testosterone and adrenaline. 

“Fuck yes!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, as I pulled my helmet off my head.

The hooting and hollering began as soon as we entered the clubhouse.  Someone turned on the stereo, and the sounds of Lynyrd Skynyrd poured out of the speakers.  The whiskey began to flow, and a tray loaded with joints and cocaine was pulled from its hiding place behind the bar.   

I hated cocaine.  I always had.  And I wasn’t fond of doing business that involved it, but it paid the bills, and this was most definitely a job where you sometimes had to do shit you didn’t want to.

Like Sergio.  I really did like him.  Up until now, all of our interactions had been pleasant and easy.  But business was business, and just as I had told him, there was no way I could let him get away with fucking me over like that.

I sincerely hoped he learned his lesson, because having to punish him any further than taking his drugs was really going to be unpleasant for me.

I hated the violent part of my job, but it was a necessary evil.

But, for now, I was thankful that whole thing was over, and no blood was spilled.  Every now and then, one of my brothers got injured during one of our jobs, and there was nothing that hurt me more.  I was constantly wracked with guilt for putting our boys in harm’s way, no matter how inevitable I knew it was.

The next few days should be calm and easy, and I was looking forward to a little bit of time to breathe and relax.  Maybe I would try to spend some time with Rebel, try to guide her to a job and a place to live.

She was a lot more grown up than most women her age, but she still needed some guidance.  Now that this thing with the cartel was over, I was looking forward to getting to know her better.

I spent the day at the clubhouse celebrating with the boys and letting off steam. 

Mason cornered me after a while, and when he told me he wanted to talk to me, I knew it was about Rebel.

I decided to cut him a little slack, and stopped him before he could get started.

“Look, Mason, it’s okay, man.  I forgive you about what happened with Rebel.  Obviously, the two of you are made for each other, fuck the sparks flying off the two of you are enough to light a bonfire.”

“Are you serious, Harley?”  He looked at me so solemnly, so sincerely, that I reached out and hugged the poor chap.

“Yeah, dude,”  I said, hitting him on the back.  “It’s all good.  I wish you both luck.  You have my blessing.”

“Um, Harley, I’m not sure you understand.  I think I’m in love with her.”

“I know, Mason. Listen, man, just treat her right, and everything will work out.  I love that little brat.”  I winked at him, and a huge smile of relief spread across his face.

I could only imagine what Rebel’s face would look like when Mason told her that they had my blessing.

For a brief moment, I wondered what my parents would say, but I dismissed it as quickly as it came.  I was the one in charge now.

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

I arrived at the warehouse before anyone else, early the next morning.  After parking my bike three blocks away, and hiding it deep between two narrow buildings, I trotted around to the back door of the empty warehouse.

Quietly and quickly, I picked the lock outside, just like Harley had taught me when we were breaking into our parents bedroom to steal sips from the liquor bottles they hid in there.  I had loved the sound and feeling when the lock finally slid open, that feeling of accomplishing something forbidden.  It had become a little hobby of mine to try to figure out how to open as many locks as I could over the years.  And I was good at it.

I locked the door behind me as I tiptoed in.  It was hours before the meeting was supposed to happen, and I had my backpack with me.  It was the same backpack I had since I was twelve - it was made of worn black leather and had a Renegade Rebels patch sewn on the front of it.  It contained a bottle of water, a package of chips and a chocolate bar.  I knew I might be there a while.  

I quickly scanned the place and saw that I was alone.  I found a dark corner up in the secluded loft to hide in, where I could see the rest of the warehouse perfectly.  I settled in, turned my cell phone on silent, and opened my water bottle, slowly sipping it, and scrolling through facebook on my phone while I waited.

El Loco Gatos showed up first.  They stood around, speaking Spanish and looking around the place.  I was sure nobody would come up to the loft, and I was right.  When the cartel showed up shortly after, my heart was racing as I watched from my perch.

I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect, but I knew the Renegade Rebels were going to show up, and I couldn’t wait to see Harley and Mason in action.