Page 23

Havoc

W e rolled up on a precast utility shelter with the name of an electrical company on the side of the building. It was securely locked in any event. This standard-issue concrete box was typical of the kind utility companies used. It had utility stickers and a faded hazard sign warning of possible electrical shock, stuck to the metal door. It was the kind of building most people would drive by a thousand times and never blink, much less suspect it was being used by criminals for nefarious purposes.

I glanced over at Storm. “You sure this is the right place, Prez?”

He frowned at me and gestured for Celt to pick the lock. When he answered me, his voice was low and harsh. “Of course, I’m fucking sure. Hacker traced the location of those servers, and this is the location he gave me.”

Celt spoke around one of the lock picks in his mouth, “Use yer brain, sonny-boy. This likely ain’t a feckin’ utility shelter.”

Storm jerked his chin in agreement. “Celt’s right. Exactly the kind of place someone hides something important. I can practically guarantee this building is either set up to look like a utility building or an old one that is no longer used.”

It only took Celt a few minutes to get the lock open. We heard a soft click, and he stepped back from the door. Giving us a quick nod, he closed up his little leather zip-up kit of lock-picking tools and slid it into his jacket pocket.

Storm pushed the steel door open, and we slipped inside one by one. Storm was first. Even with his slight limp from a war injury, his movements were smooth and silent. Celt followed his cousin. With one suspicious look around, I made sure no one had taken notice of us. Then I quickly entered, pulling the door closed behind us with a barely audible click.

The temperature inside was cool, and there was no hint of dust in the air. Someone had been taking care of this building, cleaning it regularly. Instead of dust and that musty smell disused places get, the small room smelled like ozone and a slight metallic scent that reminded me of copper. The hum of machines was clearly audible, a clear indication that they were all active. It was just a server room with about twenty servers all encased in glass housing. There were four rows of five black servers lined up in racks. Someone had gone to the trouble of bundling the cables into tight, tidy little bunches. Whoever these fuckers were, they were meticulously organized.

I noticed there was basically one desk and one chair. We already had a pretty good idea about who this place belonged to. Slater’s old man wanted to track massive amounts of data. Knowledge is power, I thought sagely. But we had no idea of who was actually using this space.

“They’ve carved out a nice discreet little hidey-hole for their servers,” Celt muttered.

Storm swept his flashlight around the room, pausing on the blinking LEDs and the climate-control unit overhead. “Hacker was right about this not being a utility building. And you’re right about them carving out a secret place for their servers.”

“So, what’s the plan here?” I asked eagerly.

Storm responded, “Hacker sent us with equipment to download information from their servers. First, we do that and then we trigger a disruption of the data flow by disconnecting each server after we copy the information it contains. Hacker and I believe that might draw the IT guy to this site. He won’t want anyone else messing around in his server room. It’s too important to their operation to risk anyone less than an expert investigating what went wrong.”

“That sounds like a fuckin’ amazing plan. I’ve been wanting to get my hands on him for a while now. How do we access the information on the servers?”

Storm hauled the bag he’d been carrying up onto the desk and opened it. He pulled out the gear Hacker sent to do the job. I recognized some of this stuff, particularly the external hard drives, encrypted thumb drives, and the small portable rig Hacker had built for ops like this. He knew exactly how to get information from these servers quickly and efficiently.

He jerked his chin at his cousin. “Havoc, you’re our lookout. I don’t want anyone to sneak up on us mid-operation. Celt, remove the glass protectors over each server. I’ll hook up the cloud-sync relay right here on the desk and link Hacker in remotely. Once we get it all set up, all we have to do is give Hacker time to do his thing.”

I went to the front door of the windowless building and had a peek out. It was midmorning and there was no one in sight around. My intuition told me most of them were probably at work. I did the same with the back door and didn’t see a living soul.

Meanwhile, Celt began lifting the glass covers off each server and Storm added a thumb drive to upload Hacker’s information-stealing stealth program.

I asked, “How long is this going to take?”

Storm answered as he texted Hacker. “He says the process should go fairly quick. He plans to download intel from all of them at the same time. We’re talking maybe fifteen or twenty minutes if their encryption’s weak.”

Ever the curious fucker that I am, I kept pestering him with questions. “How long are we talking if it’s not weak?”

He shrugged. “It might take a couple of hours if their encryption is robust.”

“Do we have a couple of hours?” I asked.

“Not if you don’t quit askin’ stupid questions,” Storm grumbled.

I took the hint and shut my piehole.

Celt picked up where Storm left off and had the cloud uplink rig booted and blinking green inside of five minutes. He glanced up at us and reported, “Club cloud is hot. Hacker’s signed on remotely. I can tell because shit just started happening on its own.”

“How do we know it’s Hacker and not the fuckers we’re trying to catch?”

Storm, still looking down at his phone, said, “It’s Hacker alright. He says we’ve got a window.”

I nodded and turned to watch the rig, which was now plugged into the primary server hub. The code lit up fast. I didn’t know much about hacking servers, but shit was happening fast on the screen.

Storm grunted, “Hacker says there are static IPs, secure tunnels, some custom garbage. He’s excited about digging through the thousands of files we’re downloading, but I just want to beat some fucking intel out of their IT guy.”

“This is some really sophisticated shit.”

Storm agreed. “It’s the kind of shit the FBI might be interested in seeing, particularly if it involves interstate transportation of drugs or guns.”

“Anyone detected us yet?” Celt asked, gazing nervously at the screen.

Storm, still staring at his phone, shook his head. “Hacker’s doing speech-to-text while he works. He says that he’s hacked the security protocols for this building. He looped the camera on the outside of the building the minute we gave him access, so we shouldn’t catch their notice. If anyone’s monitoring this place it’ll just look like business as usual. Since we parked our bikes a couple of blocks away, the IT guy should be really fuckin’ surprised when he sees what we’ve done.”

“Do we have a plan in case things go bad?”

“You are just fuckin’ full of questions today, Havoc. But yes, if things go sideways, we burn it down. Servers and all.”

The drive beeped. Storm intoned, “Hacker says the packets of information are coming in. It’s a lot of documents and a few audio dumps.”

“Any good intel, like names and incriminating information?” I asked.

“I seriously doubt it,” Storm mumbled. “Hacker will need time to decrypt it at the very least.”

After fifteen minutes, several servers started overheating. We heard the fans kick into high gear. The three of us glanced nervously at each other. The tension in the room was palpable. All three of us knew that stealing intel from their organization would be seen as an act of war. This could cause our club a lot of trouble, especially if we weren’t able to get our hands on the IT guy today. We were relying upon the element of surprise to give us the advantage.

Storm started pacing back and forth in front of the servers. Celt was always calm until his Irish temper got the better of him. He wasn’t worked up to that point yet, not by a longshot. I took another peek outside each door.

Trying to pass the time, I asked out loud, “What kind of criminal activity do you think they’re into that requires this level of server capacity?”

Celt spoke first. “I been thinking about that. Bet they’re into some feckin’ manky shit. Probably running drugs fer sure. Maybe illegal arms. Jesus, I’m hoping they’re not trafficking women.”

Storm growled, “If they are then heaven help them, ‘cause I sure as fuck won’t.”

We heard and saw one of the servers go offline. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I grumbled under my breath. It was too soon for a server to go down. It meant the IT guy might arrive before we finished the intel grab. I wondered how far away he was.

Lifting his phone, Storm passed along Hacker’s message. “Hacker says twelve minutes before the last of the downloads are finished.”

“How much have we got?” I asked nervously as I stared at the upload.

“Seventy-five percent so far,” Storm answered.

Storm kept announcing the percentage. I was standing at the back door when he announced we were at ninety-five percent. That’s when I saw a skinny guy with horn-rimmed glasses coming closer.

“Heads up brothers, we’ve got company,” I announced. “Looks like a nerd with a briefcase.”

Storm told us, “Hacker says the download is hanging. He’s afraid it might time out.”

Celt whispered, “We need two more minutes to finish.”

Storm stated quietly, “I’m going to alert our backup to be on alert, in case their IT guy isn’t alone.”

Just as the nerd got close to the back door, I swung it open and pulled the surprised man inside.

“What the hell are you doing here? This is private property of Griffin Electric.”

I gave him a little shake because I still had a good grip on his shirt collar. “Shut it, nerd. We know you’re not with the fucking electric company because we just stole a metric ton of fucking data that you had stored on your servers.”

He looked from one to the other of us. “You really don’t know what you’re getting yourself into here.”

“Yeah, we do,” Storm told him. “We know what small-town corruption looks like when we see it.”

“Look, my bosses don’t play around. If you stick your nose in their business, you’re gonna wind up dead.”

Celt yanked him by the arm into the center of the room. “Yer the one who doesn’t know who the feck yer dealing with.”

“You guys are with the Irish mafia? I didn’t know the Irish was interested in this territory.”

Celt opened his mouth to object, but Storm jumped in before his cousin lost it. “We’re with the Dark Slayers MC and you’re coming with us to our clubhouse. You’re either gonna tell us everything we need to know about your boss’s operation or we’re gonna beat the information outta you. How does that fuckin’ sound?”

Answering Storm’s question literally, he responded, “It sounds painful. That’s how it sounds.” I could tell the young man was stressed because he had a little freak out involving lots of panicked words. “Look, I don’t know anything useful. I’m just their tech guy. I set up their computers and keep their servers running. I swear, that’s all I do.”

I snatched him back from Celt and pushed him back against the wall. “My club president doesn’t like liars, dickhead. You either play ball or get a dirt nap.”

Just then, the screen finally went black. Celt rushed to gather up our equipment and shoved it carefully into its case.

Storm announced, “We have a van coming to pick you up. It’ll be here in a couple of minutes. You’re gonna get into the back and shut the fuck up. Our club doesn’t kill people indiscriminately. We’re after intel, nothing else. If you cooperate, you get to walk out of our clubhouse on two good legs. If you’re anything less than cooperative, I ain’t making no promises. You got that?”

For the first time, the guy’s face paled and he looked a little sick to his stomach. “Most people who are abducted die within the first twenty-four hours of being taken.”

Celt hit him on the back of his head. “My cousin just told ya that we won’t kill ya if yer feckin’ helpful. Seriously, we’re not the feckin’ killing type if we can get out of it.”

I spoke up, “We’re after your boss. You give us Slater, and we cut you loose.”

He let out a shaky breath and nodded. “I get what you’re laying down, but that old man is smart in ways that you and I aren’t. Really smart men have tried to take him down and they all wound up dead.”

Storm’s face lit up. “Finally, a worthy adversary.” When Celt jerked his chin from the front door, Storm’s expression cleared and he said, “Mission accomplished. We got what we came for. Now, let’s get the fuck outta here.”

I jerked our prisoner along behind me and we stepped out of the small building. Our van was waiting about twenty feet away. Breaker was driving and Grit jumped out to open the side door for us. “Everything went according to plan, I see.”

Storm frowned, “Yeah. Thank fuck for that. I sure as fuck was not in the mood for a shootout today.”

Storm pulled the door closed and locked it behind us. “Did the prospects get our bikes?”

Grit gave him a lopsided grin. “You know that they did, boss. Anytime they can ride a brother’s bike it makes their fuckin’ day.”

We settled into the van, Storm suspicious as always. And Celt pulled a rifle over his lap.

“You okay, Celt?” I asked as casually as possible.

He replied gruffly, “Of course I’m feckin’ okay. Why would ye even ask a question like that?” When I glanced down at the rifle in his lap, he explained, “Ain’t shot my rifle in yonks. Just hoping some moron pops his head up so I can practice a little.”

I laughed at Celt’s shenanigans, because I was fairly sure he was just joking.

Storm reached out and slammed his hand into his cousin’s shoulder. “You never know what’s gonna pop off when we’re transporting a prisoner. Better to be safe than sorry. Now, let’s get back to the clubhouse.”

Truth be told, we didn’t talk much on the drive back. We were all in our little bubbles and didn’t want to be chatty in front of our hostage. This had been a good day in terms of gathering intel and capturing their information guy. I planned to squeeze him until he agreed to help us nail Slater and his old man down.

My mind wandered to Riley and her afternoon appointment. Glancing at my watch, I remembered her appointment was at three and it was half past now. That meant she was well into her meeting. I pulled out my phone, and the prospects had notified me when they left the shelter and when they arrived at the restaurant.

Just as I was putting my phone away, it buzzed. It was Riley, so I opened the text she sent to me. Her message instantly made my good mood plummet.

Riley: I need you.

I swiped the message open, already feeling my heart hammering in my chest. I typed out a response.

Me: Talk to me. What’s going on?

Riley: I’m meeting Slater. He has Maritza. He says he’ll let her go if I meet him for a conversation. Public place. I’ll text the address next.

Me: Don’t do this. I don’t want you anywhere near this asshole.

Riley: Me either, but he has my friend. I don’t trust him. I want you there.

My heart was actually aching in my chest. I was starting to think we’d seriously underestimated how much of a loose cannon Slater was. I didn’t need to use my imagination to figure out what that bastard intended to do with her if he got his hands on her.

And now he had her best friend in his clutches. No wonder Riley was desperate to get to her. My Riley knew the kind of danger she was walking into, and she would do it no matter what I said. That’s just who she was—loyal, stubborn, and courageous. Nothing I could say would dissuade her from trying to help her friend. My one and only course of action was to go there in person and support her the best way I could. There was no way in hell that I’d leave her to her own devices with that out-of-control asshole. I swiped to reply, hands tight.

Me: I’m on my way. Don’t meet him until you see me.

She didn’t answer right away. My phone buzzed again.

Riley: I have to go in first. He’s watching. Riley: But I’ll stall. I just need to know you’re close. Riley: Please, Havoc. I’m at Seafood by the Sea, downtown.

Me: Hold on, sweetness. I’m coming.

When I looked up, Storm saw the panic on my face. “What was that about, Havoc?”

“Riley’s in trouble. Slater’s got one of her friends. He’s leveraged her into meeting with him at some restaurant.” I told Breaker, “Head downtown. That’s where she is.”

Storm’s lips turned up into a tiny grin. “We need to get there right away.” Glancing at our hostage, he added, “If we’re lucky, we get a twofer today.”

It took me less than a minute to understand what he was suggesting. “Yeah, that would be great. I get first dibs on beating intel out of him, though.”

Celt spoke up. “That’s something that sounds like a lot more fun than it is. Trust me on that.”

Storm stated firmly, “It’s occasionally a necessary evil. Reserved for times when there is no other way.”

Celt asked curiously, “What’s the situation?”

I explained what little I knew. “Slater’s got Riley’s friend. He wants a meet in a public place just to talk.”

Storm asked, his voice tinged with disbelief, “Please tell me she’s not going?”

“No can do, Prez. She’s already left to meet him at Seafood by the Sea. I ate there when I was on a job last year. It’s downtown.”

Storm asked Breaker, “How long till we get there?”

“Less than ten minutes, but we’ve got a bigger problem.”

I growled, “The last fucking thing in this world we need is another fuckin’ problem.”

Storm leaned forward and asked, “What’s this bigger problem, Breaker?”

“This restaurant is not a public place. It closed down eight months ago. She’s walkin’ into a trap. It’s just gonna be her, him, and whatever henchman he brought.”

A long string of curse words tore from my throat.

Then our hostage snorted a laugh. “Slater doesn’t have henchmen. He’s a total reject, an outcast. He does his old man’s dirty errands for chump change.”

All our heads turned to look at the guy giving good intel. Storm asked, “What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t, and you were so busy making demands that you didn’t ask. Anyways, my name is Devin Hodge.”

“That was very fucking helpful information, Devin Hodge,” Storm stated almost warmly. “What else can you tell us about Aaron and his father?”

“His old man was pissed with him because he recently got his ass kicked by some biker. That wouldn’t have been one of you, would it?”

“Guilty as charged. How about you come off some intel that helps us put that fucker behind bars.”

Devin froze for a long moment before choosing his words carefully. “You already have everything you need to put the old man away for the rest of his miserable life.”

“Tell us what you know about Slater,” Storm asked.

“His father describes him as the son with the genius IQ and as the only one of his sons that can’t manage to execute a mission to save his life. Truth be told, I think he’s mentally ill. He’s working shitty grifts with bar owners, drug traffickers, and everything he earns goes right up his nose. The math doesn’t seem to math with him, like at all. His father caught him twice backstabbing him with dangerous business associates. The guy’s a menace, always reaching for low-hanging fruit, if you know what I mean.”

“Why is he so obsessed with Riley Dalton?”

His expression faltered and he murmured, “You probably don’t want to know the answer to that question. Trust me on that.”

“Spit it out, Devin. Don’t make me beat it out of you,” I threatened him.

“Let me guess, you were the schoolyard bully growing up. Am I right?”

“No, I wasn’t. Look, I don’t mean to threaten you. I’m just really worried about my woman being alone with him.”

“You should be. Slater has a real love-hate relationship with her in his own head. Let me see if I can remember how this all went down.” Thinking for a few seconds, he explained, “He had a girlfriend once. A real live girl that agreed to go out with him, without, you know, him kidnapping her or anything. They were both young, but she was particularly naive. He was real nice to her, or as nice as someone like Slater could be.”

I cut into his explanation to ask, “Are you saying Slater and Riley were dating?”

He rolled his eyes. “God no. Granted, I only know Riley by association from afar, but she would never date someone like him.”

“Thank God. I thought there for a minute that I was gonna have to give him a fuckin’ dirt nap.”

“No, Slater was in love with Jubilee. I know, it’s a strange name. Everyone called her Jewel. Anyway, he eventually started to control Jewel and smacked her around. If I remember correctly, Riley was just starting her life coaching business and was offering free sessions. Jewel went to one of her free sessions, and of course big-hearted Riley had to get involved with Jewel, started teaching her about self-respect, self-esteem, and how to understand the cycle of abuse. Slater did not like that. We all had to hear him bitching about how unfair the situation was and how if only Riley hadn’t gotten involved and screwed her head up, they would have worked out their problems.”

“I wonder why Riley never mentioned that to us before,” Storm mused out loud.

Before I could hazard a guess, Devin jumped in to give his opinion. “She might not have even remembered him. She knew Jewel, not Aaron Slater. She might have only been vaguely aware of him as the guy giving Jewel a hard time.”

An image of Riley walking into that empty restaurant to meet with a man who clearly blamed her for losing the love of his life made me sick to my stomach. “I was always under the impression that Slater wanted to date her, not get even with her,” I told him.

“I think it’s both, which makes him a double threat,” Devin stated quietly.

Before we could talk further, Breaker said, “Heads up. We’re close to the restaurant.”

“Aaron Slater is a dead man if he’s so much as touched a hair on her head,” I ground out roughly. That asshole had been hovering in her orbit for years, watching and waiting for his chance to wreak havoc in her life. Being smart meant he was a master manipulator. This time, he’d taken someone Riley cared about—one of her best friends—in an effort to lure her in. To my mind, that meant he deserved whatever happened to him. And if he thought for one second he was walking away from this unscathed, he had another think coming.

We pulled into the back parking lot. As I got out of the van, I sent a quiet prayer that Riley was okay.