Smolder: Trojans MC (63 page)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Falcon took the long way to his meeting with Grace. He drove down the long coastal roads. He never thought he would need to say goodbye California. He never wanted to live anywhere else. What other place had views like this? The road sheared off to a steep Cliffside where crystal clear waves crashed against the shore. Kids laughed and played on the beach while surfers waited out in the deep for the perfect wave and behind them the ocean stretched into infinity.

He should have appreciated it more. He should have taken this route every single day, twice a day, once in the morning and once at night. He wanted to capture it. Not a picture, a picture couldn’t be enough. He needed something that could grab the sounds and the smells, the feel of the wind and the sun on his face and the huge ocean and the endless shore. But there was nothing. He knew even his memory of this place would fade after enough time.

He walked quickly to the cabin, but when he got there he felt restless. He paced up and down the weathered floorboards, picking up and folding the many blankets he had brought here over the years. He recognized the red and brown quilt his grandmother had given him when he was a boy. There was a blanket with three wolves howling at the moon he had stolen from a Wal-Mart late one freezing cold night.

He decided to leave them all here. The blankets and the candles. He would leave them for the next kid who needed to get away. Maybe it could serve as a safe place for the other misfits who had nowhere else to go. Besides, there was no way he could take it with them.

At six-forty-five his cellphone rang and Falcon saw it was Grace.

“Hello,” he said breathlessly into his phone.

“I can’t meet you. I’m sorry,” Grace said quickly into the phone.

Falcon slumped down onto the floor with his back pressed against the wall.

“Is everything all right?”

“You know how you were worried about someone finding out about you?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, now I’m worried, too. We caught two rookies trying to break into the conference room we have set aside for this investigation. They haven't confessed yet, but we’re pretty sure they’re Screaming Eagles. There have been some other issues, too, but nothing we can confirm. I know this all sounds really vague, but my gut is telling me something is up and it’s never been wrong yet. I do want to see you, Falcon, desperately. But not so much that I want you getting killed for it.”

“No, I get it,” Falcon said leaning back and putting his head against the wall. He closed his eyes and sighed.

“Have you heard anything on your end? Are people still suspicious?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know if it’s because they suspect we’re working together or if it’s just jealousy about me being bumped up.”

“How are you?” she asked, emphasizing the word “you.” The care and attention in her voice almost broke Falcon’s heart.

“I wish you were here,” he said.

“I do, too,” she said and he could tell she meant it.

“Where are you right now?” Falcon asked.

“I just got home. I’m in my kitchen pouring a glass of water.”

“What does your place look like?”

“It’s a small house on the outskirts of town. It’s a brick, two story house with white shutters and a big, green front yard.”

As she spoke Falcon could easily see the house in his mind. It was the kind of house he had never lived in. One that was clean and nice, the walls would be freshly painted and the carpets wouldn’t be covered in cigarette burns.

“My kitchen is blue and white and there are hardwood floors that lead to the living room. Upstairs there are two bedrooms and a bathroom.”

He could see himself in that house. Barefoot he would walk from one room to another. He would wake up next to Grace in the morning, let her sleep, and go downstairs to brew fresh coffee. He would know how she liked it and he would carefully carry the two cups upstairs so they could drink them together in the morning as the room was slowly illuminated by the rising sun.

“Have you given any more thought to what we talked about the other day?”

Falcon had to put his fantasy away. There was no way he could ever have that life with Grace.

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” Falcon asked. “You were right, it’s the only thing that make sense.”

“I know it’s hard, Falcon, but you’re doing the right thing.”

“I have some money I want to leave to Sophie, but it’s not exactly in a bank account.”

“I can make sure she gets that and we’ll make sure there’s money to see her to eighteen.”

“That’s something, I guess,” Falcon said. “We should probably talk about work at some point...” He still wasn’t quite ready to talk about leaving. It was like this fresh and raw wound that Grace kept wanting to re-open. Falcon didn’t want to do it, but he knew he had to. There was no other choice. But he wasn’t looking forward to it. It wasn’t what he wanted and he wasn’t going to thank anyone for the opportunity.

“We’re going to intercept the convoy at mile marker eighteen on the forty-five. I’m going to have over twenty cars ready to go. They’ll be tucked back in an empty lot and on my signal they’ll take down the truck and the bikers riding with it.”

“Sounds good. I’m going to have five bikes up front and six on the tail, so make sure six bikes pass before you let loose the dogs. What about the other people on the road?”

“It’ll be late at night, which should help, and we’re going to close down the roads on my command so hopefully we won’t put any civilians in danger.”

“So, we’re all ready to go...” Falcon said. He felt a knot tighten in his stomach. Once the raid was over, his life was over. This was the last thing he would ever do as Falcon Marks, member of the Screaming Eagles. After today everyone who knew him would think he had died. “How are we going to fake my death?” he asked and the words were so insane he almost couldn't say them.

“You should be last in line,” Grace said, and it was like her voice on the other end of the phone was the only thing in the world that existed. She was telling him how he was going to die and while it might not be a real death with a real body, it would be the end of Falcon’s life. He would never see the people he loved again; he would never be able to come back to this town. “When you hear the first siren, tell your men to keep going and you turn around like you’re going to confront us and buy them some time. I’ll give the signal to my men to take you alive. You’ll drive between the police cars, eventually going past them. Once you’re out of sight of the other members of the gang we’ll shoot off a few rounds to make it sound real. You’ll pull over to the side of the road and get in a squad car. It’ll be over in seconds.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Falcon said.

“It’s light on the details, I know, but there’s still a lot of unknowns. You’re a smart guy and you’re smart on your feet. I’m not worried about it.”

“You sound worried, though.”

“I guess I’m more worried about the next part. The part where this is all over, for good.”

“Me, too,” Falcon said with a sigh. “I’ll text you tomorrow, first thing.”

“Good,” she said. “Goodbye, Falcon. Sleep well, tomorrow this will all be over.”

“Yeah, goodnight,” Falcon said and he hung up the phone and dropped it on the bare floor of the shack. Tomorrow, for better or worse this would all be over. He wished he had more time. He wished he could put the shipment off another day, another month, another year. But why delay the inevitable? Every second that passed made it harder to leave. He needed to be strong now, for him and for Sophie. He needed to do one more job and then they would cast him off. Who knows where he would end up or what his life would look like? His life as he knew it didn’t exist past tomorrow.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Today is the day, Falcon. You ready?” Marco asked.

He and Falcon were in the warehouse sitting on overturned milk crates and drinking coffee. It was possibly the strongest cup of coffee Falcon ever had. It was black as night and thick as tar and he gulped it down as quickly as possible. There was a cigarette in his other hand. Falcon generally didn’t bother with cigarettes; in his opinion there were far better things to smoke out there, but he needed to keep himself calm. His leg was jiggling and he felt more nervous than he had ever felt in his entire life. The cigarette was to keep his hands busy, and to keep them from shaking.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Falcon said, taking a deep breath and another gulp of his heavy coffee. “I did all the prep work. The rest is up to fate, I guess.”

“Yeah well. I’m not gonna lie,” Marco said. “It feels better to see you nervous. That cooler than cool and calmer than calm shit you pulled last time was a little off, you know? You’re moving four million dollars worth of illegal shit, nerves are part of the deal.”

Around them over a dozen bikers were moving big, heavy boxes onto a large, white container truck. The truck was plain enough looking. It was registered to a dummy corporation Ernie had set up. The side of the truck had a simple blue logo created by one of the bikers; it showed a smiling globe waving its hand and proclaiming, “The Travelling Company. We get Your Stuff There!” It was just boring and vague enough to discourage anyone from bothering to search for any information on it.

Falcon stood up and rolled out his shoulders. The last few days had been the longest of his life, and at the same time they had passed too quickly. This was it, this was his last day as Falcon Marks. By this time tomorrow Falcon would have a new identity, a new name, and whole new life somewhere else. He had spent his last days as Falcon Marks hard at work. But he didn’t regret it. He had pushed the reality far back in his head in order to do what he needed to do. But now that it was time to go, he wished he had done everything differently.

“Hey, Phil, you ready for today?” Falcon asked the large balding man watching the bikers pack up the truck, his arms crossed in front of him. Falcon missed Eric and he wished the straight-laced kid was here. Phil was older and a little ornery, he wasn’t as good at taking orders as Eric had been.

“I know what I’m doing, Falcon,” Phil said, not bothering to turn his head. “I’ve been doing this a long time, far longer than you. I’m fine.” He finally turned and looked at Falcon, sneering at him. “Don’t worry, I won’t fuck up your unearned promotion.”

Falcon said nothing. He was seething inside from the insult, but at the same time his anger felt very far away. If he weren’t about to throw his entire life away Falcon would have thrown down right there in the garage. He was in charge and he couldn’t have men questioning his authority. But Phil knew what he was doing; he knew Falcon couldn’t do anything at that moment, with the truck filled and ready to go. They didn’t have time to get into a fight right now. They were on a tight schedule and Phil knew it.

I’ll deal with it tomorrow,
Falcon thought and then he realized that he wouldn't be here tomorrow and neither would Phil. Let the other man get mouthy, let him try and push Falcon around. Within an hour Phil would be in jail and Falcon would be heading towards his new life. It calmed his seething nerves and he rolled his eyes at Phil and walked away from the other man.

“Ready to go,” that had been the message from “Princess Bubblegum” herself. Grace was in position. She and her entire team were ready and no one had found out about Falcon working with the police. He had spent the last couple of weeks screwing a cop and turning on his gang and no one had any idea.

He was actually going to pull this off and the thought terrified him. Everything had been in preparation for this. Every communication between him and Grace, all the planning, all the work. When he had been working on the shipment it had been easy to forget what the stakes were. The day when it would all come together seemed so far away that it might not even be real. Now it was very real, it was today, it was happening all around him. Falcon felt like a kid sitting in the middle of a merry-go-round, everyone was hanging off the edges while he sat and watched everything turn. He knew exactly how this day was going to unfold and he was the only person in the room who did.

“All right, listen up!” Falcon said as he jumped up on a milk crate. Not that he needed to, he was easily the tallest person in the room. “Today’s shipment needs to go well if this gang wants to live to see another day. We’ve had a lot of run-ins with the cops recently and that cannot happen on this run. This is not some big event where everyone needs to show off. This is a simple run. We get the truck to the yards, we get our money, and we come home. Everyone knows their places and everyone needs to remain in their positions. I don’t want anyone drawing any attention to themselves. Understood?”

The men around him nodded and crossed their arms. This was dangerous for them. They all knew what kind of charges they were looking at if they got caught. Falcon felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. They were all praying and hoping that everything would be fine. They were hoping that this would be a simple ride and easy way to make some money. But all of their hopes and prayers were useless. This was a set-up and none of them would walk away from it.

“Get into positions. We leave in ten,” Falcon jumped down from the milk crate and watched as the rolling door to the back of the truck was closed and an electronic padlocked was locked around the handle. Falcon and Grace were the only people who had the number that could unlock it.

Grace, he needed to focus on Grace. A lot of men were going to get arrested today, a lot of lives were going to be ruined, but some would be improved. Grace would be a hero; she would be congratulated and may be promoted. It was a good thing. She was a good cop and she deserved it. She was going to make the world a better place and Falcon was grateful he had been able to help her. Plus, the drugs in police lock up meant they wouldn’t be out on the street. No junkies would get high off of this. They might find something else to get high with, but at least it wasn’t coming from Falcon.

Falcon walked out with Marco and they each took to their bikes as the rest of the Screaming Eagles followed. The air was thick with tension. Everyone knew how high the stakes were, everyone knew what was on the line, but they went anyway. Men were chain smoking cigarettes and joints to calm their nerves and pass the time.

“You go ahead and lead the way; we won’t be far behind,” Falcon said to Marco.

Marco was the lead. He would drive in front of the truck and the other bikers on the advance guard. As soon as he left the real party would start. Grace would be on the lookout for Marco, Falcon had given her the plates to Marco’s motorcycle and once she saw them, she would know to expect the truck and then the rear guard. Falcon was pulling up the rear, he would be the last biker and when she saw him she would know that it was time to act.

“No matter what stick to the route,” Falcon said as he and Marco shared a fist bump. Marco slipped his helmet over his head and revved his bike.

Falcon knew at that moment he could stop all of this. This entire time he had always known in the back of his mind he could go to Ernie and tell him everything. He could be a double agent for the Screaming Eagles instead of the cops. There had always been that easy out lurking in the back of his mind. But if he let Marco go, the out would go with him. If he let Marco go and something went wrong and they found out about the cops waiting on the road, Falcon would be at the mercy of the Screaming Eagles. There would be nothing he could say to save himself.

Was he ready for this? Was he ready to betray his gang and say goodbye to his life? He had other choices; there were other ways this could all go down. It was up to Falcon now. He was in complete control of this situation. He knew where the cops and the Screaming Eagles were and he was the only person who knew. So what was it going to be. Would the Screaming Eagles get a last minute reprieve, would there be a call from the governor giving a stay of execution? Or was Falcon really going to do this?

“God speed,” Falcon said and Marco headed down the deserted street.