Buried Treasure Ch. 46-50

"Yes. Vic's badly injured, but stable. He was hit twice; one bullet went through his right lung, the other hit his femoral artery in his right thigh. I got him patched up the best I could, now we wait." I reached over and took her hand; she was shaking.

"I almost lost him," she said as she cried.

I pulled her into my side and held her as her emotions released. A minute later, she was better. "Spider, any news on the place we hit?"

"The news doesn't know anything, but the cops found a tunnel between the Clubhouse and the warehouse we hit. Frame, most of them escaped. The dead and the arrested are all low-level guys; the leadership used them to hold the cops off until they were in the tunnel."

Fuck. The cats were the leaders, and they escaped? I had to let the guys know. "Stay here; I need to talk to my brothers about what we do next." She nodded and went back to her computer while I went out to our rental car. I told the guys about the tunnel and the missing leadership, and they were as pissed as I was. Whoever they sent first must have come out of the tunnel just after they left. "How are we doing here?"

"Cleanup is done. The guys got the blood out of your rental car. Thank Luna it had leather seats."

The U-Haul had to be returned by Spider Monkey, and Vic had rented the car. I didn't want to drive a U-Haul back home, and we still needed to deal with the jet Sawyer had brought down. "We need to get you guys out of here before the manhunt for the missing Sons takes off. Start shuttling your men to the airport; it will take three trips. Spider Monkey can drive you the last time and come back here."

"That's reasonable," Sawyer said. "My pilot is Pack. He knows we're coming and will have the jet ready. He's in a hangar, so we can drive in and transfer people and luggage out of sight."

"How much did we get from those bastards?"

"Fourteen big bags, all filled with fat stacks of cash," Carson said. "They must have been preparing to ship it down to Mexico, and we caught them at a good time."

I nodded. "I told Spider she'd get a full share, so you guys split seven between your Packs, and I'll do the same with her."

Sawyer just shook his head no. "That's not fair. We flew down, hit a target, and left again. You, Spider and the Brotherhood did all the heavy lifting on this."

Carson stood shoulder to shoulder with him. "We already decided. We're each taking two bags for our Packs, and we'll take care of the men who are here out of our end. The rest is yours; you divvy it up as you see fit. Just don't go driving through the ghetto tossing stacks of cash like on Breaking Bad."

I tried to talk them out of it, but they had already decided and were stubborn about it. "Fine. Just be careful with how you let the cash out to your people. It's easy to attract attention, and you don't want to give the IRS a reason to look at your under a microscope."

"We will." Carson drove off with the first group; it took about forty minutes for them to return. In the meantime, one of the guys walked to McDonald's and brought back breakfast for us. Carson took the second load, then finally it was just my brothers and Joe.

"Let me know how Vic is doing," Joe asked. I could tell he felt guilty because he got hit while they were together.

"I will. Say hi to Mom for me," I told Sawyer. Carson had it easy at our old Pack, while Sawyer was learning a new one. Our mother was shifting between the three Packs, making sure the new Lunas were getting up to speed quickly. She was spending another week at Sawyer's before coming our way for Christmas; she didn't want to miss her three Grandchildren over the holidays. "Try to talk her into staying, you know it's dangerous for our Pack right now."

Sawyer gave me his best Vito Corleone impersonation. "This I cannot do," he said as I laughed. "You know Mom. If I tell her the babies are in danger, she'll insist on going to protect them, and she'll rope us into coming with her. It's bad enough you're taking six of my warriors to help out." Carson just nodded, they'd had this conversation without me as well.

He was right. "Safe travels, my brothers." We hugged again, and Spider went behind the wheel to drive them to the Long Beach airport. I went back inside the U-Haul, keeping an eye on Vic. He was running a slight fever, but that was normal for his injuries. His blood pressure was good, and his breathing was close to normal again. I hated to move him, but I couldn't carry him into a hotel like this, and I needed to stay with him.

I heard Spider coming, and she parked next to the U-Haul then jumped out. "How is he? What are we doing now?"

"We need to move him into the backseat," I said. "Then you drop off the U-haul, and I drive you home."

"What about Vic?"

"He needs a few weeks to recover. I hate to drive all the way back to your home, but I don't have a safe place any closer, and I want you out of the way. The shit is going to hit the fan after this raid." I smiled at her as I opened the back door. "You did real good, Spider. I'll drop you off and we'll be out of your hair by sundown."

"The FUCK you will," she said as she opened the other back door. "Vic can heal up at my place; we can both watch over him."

"I don't want you involved more than you are," I said.

"Too bad I don't care what you want," she retorted. "When we started this, I told you that I didn't want money, but I did want something. You said if I asked, it was mine."

Oh shit. I should have seen this coming. "And what do you want?"

"I want Vic in my bed, of course. Now load the bags in the back, we're wasting time." She was right again. Only six bags of cash fit in the trunk, so the rest and our luggage I put on the floor in the back seat. I picked up Vic and walked down the loading ramp with him; Spider helped me get him situated laying down across the back seat. We covered him and the bags with fleece throw blankets the guys had bought at the drugstore.

I put the truck's ramp up and closed the door, verifying we hadn't left anything incriminating behind. "I'll follow you as you drop it off."

"What do I say about why I'm bringing it back early? I told the woman I was moving to Madison with my boyfriend."

"As little as possible. If it's the same woman, tell her you found your boyfriend in bed with your best friend, and the move is over just like your relationship."

She gave me a big hug. "Thank you for saving him," she said.

"I'm glad I could help. Now let's get going, morning traffic is a bitch around here." She hopped in the truck, and I followed her back to the street. With luck, we'd be back at her place by dinnertime.

I drove more carefully than ever before; if I got pulled over, neither of us would ever get out of jail.

Ch. 48

Mongo's POV

Orlando Steel Brotherhood Chapter

It was a good thing the new Clubhouse was much bigger than the last one because it was turning into a fucking convention around here.

After the bodies of the Brothers had been returned to their home Chapters for burial, the Club Presidents had a conference call. Our Club was under threat, the cops were after us, and we needed help. When one of the Chapters was in trouble, we all helped out. It was part of being part of our Club.

So, the Clubs and the Nomads started sending help. We had three dozen men show up today and fourteen Ladies. We were keeping over a dozen men on armed watch at a time, more at night. The Ladies had expanded the overwhelmed kitchen, drafting men to build a large barbecue pit in the back. I was spending a lot of money on food and beer, but it was well spent. Nobody was going to attack us again, not with the show of force we had on display.

Our relationship with the lower-level cops was still good, but the Chief still had it out for my Club and me. He'd been by this morning, shortly after the news of the raids on all the chapters of the Sons of Tezcatlipoca. We'd watched the coverage of the drug raid and the chapter raids with a mix of elation and apprehension. Seeing an outlaw club like that go down felt great, but hearing many of the leaders were still at large left a pit in my stomach.

I hated that I didn't have Three Tequila by my side while the Club was in danger.

I'd told the other girls the T was visiting friends in Atlanta. I had no idea how long she would be in Minnesota, but I hoped like hell she saw Harleigh while she was there. Losing her sister's family had crushed her. When Agent Donovan told us she was still alive, some of her old spark came back to her eyes.

My phone vibrated in my pocket; I'd been getting lots of texts from my buddies in other clubs, so I didn't pull it out until I was done talking with Tripod. "Need a ride home," said the text from Three T. I smiled and called a couple of prospects over from where they were working the bar. Scott was mine, and Paul was from the Jacksonville club. I walked them out the back. "You have a car, right?" Prospects couldn't ride yet, they usually drove a Club van, but those were burned up in the fire. I didn't have the insurance settlements to buy new ones yet.

Scott nodded. "Yeah, the Explorer over there," he said.

"Go to the private airfield and pick up Three Tequila. Bring her straight here, and don't text or tell anyone what is going on. Make sure you aren't tailed, from here or there. You guys packing?"

Scott moved his Brotherhood Prospect cut aside; he had a Colt 1911 in a shoulder holster. Paul patted behind his right hip. "We both have our permits." I knew they would; a carry permit was a better background check for our Club than anything else. We didn't want guys with records. We wanted guys we could trust with guns.

"Keep her out of sight and keep her safe." They walked off to his SUV while I went back inside. The burgers on the grill and the charcoal smell were making me hungry.

"Boss, the DEA is here for you," one of the guys on guard duty by the roll-up door to the big warehouse area of our building said.

"OK." I waved Tripod over as I went to get Eclipse from the table he was sitting at. Eclipse was the Southeast Region President of the Brotherhood, and a good man. "The DEA guy is here, let's see what he has to say."

I recognized Senior Agent Frank Donovan immediately and waved him in. "You remember my VP, Tripod, and Eclipse, our Regional President," I said as he shook their hands.

"I do. Is there someplace private we can talk?"

"Sure." I led them all back to my office, and we all sat in the chairs. "What can I do for you?"

"I know you've been following the news, and it's not been a good day for us." I nodded; losing seven officers was a blow. One SWAT team member in Denver hadn't made it through surgery, adding to the two in LA, three in a major Houston gun battle, and one in Phoenix. "Sixty-one Sons are confirmed dead, and over 200 are under arrest. It sounds impressive until you spread it over fifteen chapters. We've only accounted for about 20 members per chapter, and most Chapters have between twenty-five and a hundred members."

"That's not very reassuring, Frank."

He nodded as he pulled a sheaf of papers out of his briefcase. "You guys are still in the crosshairs of these men, so you know what you're facing." He handed the stack over, and I flipped through it; the cover photo I recognized, a mug shot of Jesus Correria. "These are the ones in leadership we didn't get, and the known members we had photographs available. We've got active warrants out for all of them, but if you spot any?"

"We'll call 911," I said. "At this point, we're on a razor's edge with the Orlando Police. Our neighbors and some nearby residents aren't happy with us being here. I'm already hearing threats of the City changing zoning ordinances so our Clubhouse wouldn't be allowed in city limits."

"I'm not shocked, but I hope it doesn't happen. Not everybody recognizes the kind of Club you are, but Sean wouldn't have joined you if you were dirty." He sat back, and I could see things were wearing heavily on him. "If you have any questions, go through me. Director Grimes is suspended pending completion of an investigation."

My jaw dropped. "What the fuck would he be under investigation for?"

"Keep this quiet, but with eight officers dead, the circumstances of the raids are coming into play. It was Frank who got the tip on the drug warehouse in Oakland, and then he got ahold of financial records from offshore banks that implicated the Chapters in the drug running and money laundering."

"That's good, isn't it," Eclipse asked.

"It's awfully convenient. The Chapters were barricaded inside and ready for a raid, and some in Justice thought the Sons were tipped off that the raids were coming."

"After the raid on the drug warehouse, they kind of expected it, didn't they?"

"They got a warrant for his home and cell phone. Word is there were conversations and texts to and from a burner phone which is now dead. The last text was a warning the raid would be at six." He leaned forward, his head in his hands. "He admitted sending it, but refused to say who it was he sent it to. That's why he's suspended now."

Fuck. It must have been Chase. "Grimes hates these guys; he'd never help them out."

"I know that, but it gets worse. The phone Grimes sent the warning to was in the Los Angeles area, in Long Beach. There was a building two blocks away, close enough so the drone we had overhead occasionally got a look at it. We found a tunnel that led to it. That's how the leadership escaped, there was a hatch in the President's office, and it went underground until it came up in a back room of the other warehouse."

"Did you get them escaping on camera?"

"Worse than that. The views were intermittent as the drone moved around, but in one segment we saw men rushing the building. Thirty seconds later, there were inside. Within three minutes, a U-Haul pulled up and departed. The last view we had was of a wounded man and another helping him run down the road, both dressed all in black and carrying weapons. Inside the warehouse were seven dead men, one the Master at Arms of the Los Angeles chapter. He was wearing a bulletproof vest that stopped the two pistol rounds to the chest, but couldn't stop the 9mm round to his face."

I didn't know what to think of it. "What does that mean?"

"We think the Sons were hiding something in the warehouse, something valuable like drugs or cash. Somebody else hit them while we were raiding the Clubhouse, someone very professional. They killed the men in the warehouse and the first guy through the tunnel, then left with whatever it was."

The light came on. "So the Prosecutors don't think he tipped off the Sons, they think he helped someone else rip the Sons off."

"Maybe both. The more the Sons fight, the better the distraction for what they are doing two blocks away." He looked at me; I could see the pain in his eyes. "If they can show that he conspired to endanger officers in the raid, it could get serious for him. He could be facing murder charges."

What a shitstorm. If I was a betting man, Chase was the man he was talking with, and the man he was protecting. If Grimes rolled on him, the blowback would be significant. Yes, Chase had resigned from the Club, but that wouldn't appease prosecutors on the warpath. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

"Keep your heads down," he said. "Once this thing gets rolling, it's going to roll over everything in its path."

"No shit. You keep your head down too." I left the other two in my office as I walked him out. As we were alone and outside, I spoke quietly to him. "Message has been delivered. Thank you."

"Just keep your people safe, I hate fucking funerals," he said. He walked out the gate, and we closed and padlocked it behind him. My head was spinning as I walked back inside.

Tripod stopped me before I went back in. "I've got a guy checking for bugs," he said.

"Donovan wouldn't do that," I said. I let out a sigh. "Trust, but verify."

"Exactly," Eclipse said. A minute later, our man came out with a thumbs up. We went back in. "He's stirring up the shit, isn't he?"

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure he had help with the spoon, too." Chase had told us he had resources we didn't have, and he was proving it. I was pretty sure that whatever it was that had disappeared from the Sons warehouse had ended up under his control.

There was a panicked knock on the door; nodding to Tripod, I had him open it. "OH THANK YOU," a crying Bowlegs said as she ran into Tripod's arms.

"Ummm... for what, baby?"

"I can't believe you guys," she said as she wiped tears away. "I know you set up Go Fund Me pages for the families of those killed, but I never expected this kind of support!"

"Bowlegs, what the hell are you talking about?" She was crying so hard I couldn't understand her. I knew about the pages; we'd put the Go Fund Me pages out to all the Chapters and in the news coverage. Not everyone had life insurance policies that were big enough to support their families. W did take care of a lot of the funeral costs with Club funds, but we couldn't pay mortgages. When people asked what they could do to help, we referred them to the page. I pulled up the accounts, and I couldn't say anything as well. "Well, suck me dry and call me Dusty," I said. "Check this out!"

Eclipse whistled as he looked at the account summaries of each of the pages we'd set up. All were over $225,000, some pushing $300k. Clicking on the one for Harleigh, I could see all the donations from across the country and overseas. Some were only five or ten dollars, others up to a thousand. Then I saw the big one.

$224, 219.87 deposited from a Visa card.

I quickly checked the others; the same donation appeared on each of the pages.

"Who the fuck did that," Eclipse asked in wonder.

"I don't know, but they just made things a lot easier for our widows and orphans."

"And raised a big red flag with the Feds," he said.

Ch. 49

Heather Rhodes (Harleigh's) POV

Alexandria, MN

I wanted to shop, but I couldn't leave the house. Despite being a manly man, Greg was unwilling or unable to navigate the lingerie sections of stores for me.

Walmart.Com and the Pickup Today option was a godsend for both of us. Greg said he didn't want to use mail order because it tied us to an address that could show up in a search. He had no intention of associating his name with this address with the Post Office. Using this option, they got everything together for us, and he could just back up our SUV and have them load the bags.

I was running out of clothing and underwear, so when Greg got done selecting workout equipment and electronics, it was my turn. I spent about three hours online picking out stuff for my closet. I didn't need fancy dresses or heels since I couldn't leave the house and yard, but I did need workout gear and winter clothing. Greg had promised to help me learn to fight, and I couldn't wait to start.

We were lucky in that our rental home still had cable service for the television, and that included internet access. The owner had agreed to keep it going, so it wasn't under Greg's name. The computer he bought when we got to town was cheap but functional. I had to endure ten minutes of "stuff you can't do" before he even let me on it! I wasn't to sign up for anything or use my old or new names; for shopping, only his name and credit cards would be used. I couldn't even surf, because the Feds could track the use of search engines.

If that wasn't bad enough, I had no phone and no social media. What was this, the '80's? I fully expected to see cassette tapes and dial telephones next. Even the cable service was basic.

Still, I was alive.

It was almost five in the afternoon, and I had been watching coverage of the raids on the Sons of Tezcatlipoca clubhouses since I woke late this morning. I was happy to see them being perp-walked out to the waiting vehicles, but I liked it better when they were being wheeled out to the coroner's vans.