Jake and Cannon led the way and we pulled up in front of an old warehouse on the outskirts of the city. From a quick count of the hogs lined up in front of the building there were probably about twenty folks waiting for us in there.
As we walked in I saw three little groups of furs standing around and chatting, made a quick inventory of the patches. One I didn't know, two I did. Of the two I did know, only one was likely to be real trouble. Those guys were hardcore one-percenters, probably into the drugs, guns and ass business in a big way. I'm guessing these were the guys that Jake thought were likely to "test" me. Jake stood a little ahead of Cannon and I, then he greeted the three furs, one from each of the three groups, that wandered over to meet us.
"Don, Ernesto, Charlie.. good to see you. Got somebody here a friend wanted me to introduce, make sure everything's cool."
"Who and why?" This was the one who Jake had addresesd as 'Don' - Big guy, looked like a wolf/husky cross and he apparently existed on a diet of barbells and raw flesh. The one thing we had in common was a shredded ear but he was way more heavy-set than I was and had a good couple of inches on me in height. This was several hundred pounds of muscle currently giving me the stink-eye. He was also one of the ones wearing the bad news patch, with the tabs on the front indicating he was president of the local chapter.
"Prez of our chapter out in the midwest asked, and vouched for him. As for why, I'll let him explain that for himself. Don, this is Dafydd. Dafydd, Don." He didn't offer to shake paws. That was fine, neither did I.
"Why is simple. I'm here on business, tracking down somebody who might have got themselves in some trouble. That means my partner and I will be lifting rocks and looking under 'em. Wanted you good people to know that in advance so you know we aint looking for you. If we find anything of yours under any of those rocks we'll just leave it where it is and put the rock back."
"No offense, man, but what if that trouble was with us or with one of the other clubs here?"
"Currently I have no reason to believe that's the case. If I find out otherwise, I'll say so. We can then discuss how that changes the nature of my mission here. No blindsides. You have my word on that."
"See, thing is, if I knew you and you'd had the chance to earn some respect in this town I'd have no problem taking that word. You been vouched for and that's a good start. You up for a little test of how much respect you should get?"
"Depends what you had in mind that would satisfy you and your colleagues there." Here it comes... I was confident he wouldn't ask me to help out with any of his clubs business, so that meant it was going to be a fight. Hopefully I could make it through this in one piece and without losing control and killing anyone, because that would destroy any chance of good relations with at least one club.
He beckoned and four furs from his group came over to join him. I was surprised to see one of them was a female, a slender but well-muscled lioness with a bit of a swagger to her and built like a boxer. All four of them looked me up and down as they lined up behind Don.
"Our prospect here, Danny." Indicating the wiry-looking fox on the end of the line. "He's our most junior member here. Next to him is Crash. Don't underestimate Bev, here, she's a patchowner in her own right, not somebody's Old Lady. Finally, that's Spike, my sergeant-at-arms. You start at this end of the line and work your way up until you quit, can't continue or you run out of opponents."
"Rules?"
"No weapons, and if you're still standing after one fight you get a minute to cool down before the next one starts."
Ok, one on one, but four in a row. I looked down the row again. Danny's body language and scent told me he was nervous, the others had none of that. Crash was about my size, another mixed breed canine and he had the same wiry look to him as Danny. He was just standing there watching me silently. Bev had a grin on her face but that was the only sign she showed of any emotion. Spike was going to be the real problem. The large rottweiler was calmly looking at me like he was the incredible Hulk and if I made it to him I'd be tired and he'd have had plenty of opportunity to see my style. I was betting there was maybe one fur in this room that had ever succeeded in kicking Spike's ass.
I drew a slow breath, nodded and turned to Jake. "Hold my stuff for me man?" As he nodded I unclipped my belt then peeled off my jacket and tshirt. Cannon looked me over.
"Shit, you weren't kidding about pieces getting blown off, were ya?"
"Nope." It had been a while since I had felt self-conscious about my scar collection, the edges of a collection of shrapnel wounds showing above my belt on my right side, the pocks of healed bullet wounds and the tracery of old claw marks. I might as well have been wearing my service record on my hide. As I turned back to face the other five bikers I saw that their attitude had shifted some. Unlike Cannon, they hadn't recognized the insignia on my jacket. "Let's get this show on the road." As Danny stepped forward I took one more breath and let the world slow down.
Danny hadn't shed his jacket and it was slowing him down. That was good because I needed to keep myself fresh and I couldn't afford to waste energy or get too banged up at this end of the line. I needed Danny out of action as quickly as possible so I swayed back away from his first punch and swept both his legs out from under him. As his head fell towards the floor it met my knee coming up. I pulled the strike a bit, because I didn't want to snap his neck, but there was a satisfying "thunk" as my knee met the back of his skull.
I caught him and lowered him the rest of the way to the floor as his eyes rolled back and his tongue lolled from his muzzle. My own voice sounded hollow and slow to me through my own adrenaline haze as I said "No need for a break after that one." and watched Crash stripping off his jacket.
He was wiry, fast and hadn't liked watching the result of the previous round. He opened by aiming a sharp snapping kick at my groin. I slid slightly to the left and pivoted, "encouraging" his kick a little with my left paw and pulling back my right before pivoting back and slamming the heel of that right paw into his ribs. This was where felines had a slight disadvantage when we weren't trying to kill our opponents. Our paws were missing some striking surfaces. Hammerfist, backfist, ridge or knife paw or the paw heel were fine, but try any of the other classical paw forms with retractile claws and you'll discover what pain is. Anyone else in the place, with the exception of Bev, the lioness, would have focused enough power into a punch to do a rib or two.
If we were fighting in earnest I'd have used my claws below his ribs and done my best to rip a kidney out but since we were keeping it "friendly" that wasn't an option. Cutting a long story short, he spun with my strike and caught me good, right across the muzzle.
We backed off each other a bit, having sized each other up and then closed again. The next pass finished a little bit more in my favor with me ending up able to slam a knee into his guts and an elbow onto the back of his head as he doubled over it. It wasn't enough to stop him, though. We kept trading blows for a few minutes before he gave me an opening. He tried to spin me into a choke hold, but he'd telegraphed the move and I added my force to his, turning further and faster than he wanted, well within his circle, and hammered my elbow into his solar plexus. He folded, and I let him fall. By the time he recovered his breath I had a hindpaw on his neck. He looks up at me and he knows that if he carries on, all I need to do is step down hard and it's all over. He reaches up and taps my leg.
I took a fast two steps back and watched him in case he was trying to sucker me but he wasn't. He pulled himself to his feet and went to retrieve his jacket. I needed the break after that one.
"Not bad moves for an old guy" That was Bev, the lioness I'd be taking on next.
"I don't turn fifty for another couple of years, so I'm barely middle-aged." She blinked then laughed.
"Ok, I take it back then. Not bad moves for a middle-aged guy. Don, I think I like this one." She looked back over at me. "You and I both got claws. In play or not?" I shook my head.
"Not unless Don wants one or both of us laid up for weeks or taking a dirt nap."
"Which same I don't, Bev. Keep it friendly."
The minute was up. She put up her guard, came forward towards me and launched a huge swipe of her paw that would have made my ears ring if it had connected. This fight was, as expected, a lot harder. Player one, level up. I'm fairly big for my species but in terms of raw strength there's no way I'd match even a small lioness. Bev wasn't small. She was taller than me and outmassed me by a fair bit and the only body fat she carried was in places that merely confirmed her gender.
Five long minutes later, I was bruised from head to hindpaws, spitting blood from a split lip and nursing a couple of cracked ribs while she was limping, trying to protect a possibly broken right wrist and was going to have one hell of a black eye. She held up her left hand and stepped back.
"Don, call it. We're too close matched. If we finish this we could kill each other, even without the claws."
"You say so, Bev. Call it a draw and the test's over. Sorry, Spike, you dont get to join the fun."
The big rottie just shrugged.
"Wouldn't have been much fun anyway after Bev worked him over. For what it's worth, I think he could give you a run for your money if he was fresh, Don." Spike stepped forward and held out his paw. "Spike Mason. Otherwise known as 'Gunny Mason' back in the day."
I grabbed his paw in mine. "Dafydd Owen. Marine, huh? Few of your guys pulled my team out of real tight spot in the sandbox. We arranged for one hell of a party for 'em at Twentynine Palms after they got back. Apparently our CO got a request from their CO to 'please not do that again.'" I laughed but Spike was looking at me with an odd expression.
"If it's the party I'm thinking about, the whole base got to hear about it."
"If the party you're thinking about involved a busload of hookers and enough beer to float a carrier battle group, it's probably the same one. That one Marine battalion saved so many of our arses that all of C squadron chipped in to pay to set that up."
"Fuck! Dafydd, that was my old unit. 1st Battalion, 7th Marines. You guys are seriously responsible for the worst hangover of my life. You were one of the Brit snake-eaters we were supporting?"
Cannon laughed "Didn't ya see the badge, Spike?" Jake was holding up my jacket with the back spread out to display the patch.
"Shit, man, we never met 'em. Didn't see their badges or anything. Heard 'em on the radio a lot though. There was one crazy fuck I heard call in a fire mission on his own position because it was crawling with hajjis who were setting up to assault us and the rest of his team!"
"His name was Andy Connor. He wasn't on my team but I knew him. The citation for his posthumous VC for that action is unfortunately classified, since we weren't supposed to be there in the first place."
Don was looking on with a grin on his muzzle.
"You two newlyweds gonna knock it off a minute?" I shut my yap and waited, but Spike flipped him the bird, although he too shut up. "I figure if Spike likes ya, I can trust your word."
"What, you mean if we'd found this out before I wouldnt have had to get the shit kicked out of me by your brothers here?"
"Nah, I'd have just paired you with Spike out the gate and seen how long you lasted."
"No way, Don. You don't know how these guys are trained.. We'd have killed each other before either of us quit and I'd rather not have saved his ass over there only to stomp it into the ground over here. Or get mine stomped into the ground, because I think it would be even odds."
"Hah, yeah, I get ya on that, Spike. You and your partner are good around here as far as I'm concerned, Dafydd. You guys OK with that?" The representatives of the two other clubs in the room nodded. Like they had any choice. Don was clearly the alpha of the dominant pack here. "Looks like you got what you came here for." This time it was my turn to step forward and stick out my paw.
"Don, if you're ever in Minnesota, look me up and I'll buy you a drink. I appreciate it, man. Don't want to get any hackles raised if they don't need to be."
I was one hurting unit as we rode out of there. It was worth it.
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"Fuck, Dafydd! What the hell happened?"
"Don't squeeze so tight, Sarah. I'm pretty sure I got a busted rib. It's all good. Local badass biker needed to prove I was worthy of his trust."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean he needed to watch me coldcock a prospect and then fight patchowners until one of 'em called it a draw. Didn't help that an ex-delta guy recognized my insignia and was egging 'em on. We're free from hassle from the local bikers at least, and by association most of the lower level street gangs. Where do we stand here?"
"Good. I met with Bill Lyon over dinner, he has set us up with this apartment and access to Kelli Andrews' files. I have a digital copy for review on this thumb drive. As far as his firm is concerned, we're an out of town team looking for a way to tie in a major federal case to some of the files his firm is handling."
"Nice, I like it. That means we can ask about almost random cases without raising suspicion that we're actually looking for Kelli."
"I already did. I cast a broad net that just happened to include every file Kelli has worked on in the last six months."
"Then as of tomorrow morning, we're set and can start properly working the case. Now if you don't mind, Honey, can I lean on you all the way to the shower?"
She grinned at me. If I wasn't feeling like a freshly tenderized steak that shower could have been a lot more fun than it actually was. The fantasy would have involved dragging her in there with me and generating a lot of steam to mask our activities. The reality involved her calmly sitting outside the shower while I cleaned up, giving me a couple ibuprofen for supper and helping me to bed.
--------------------------
I woke feeling a lot better. As soon as I tried to move I realized that "feeling better" was more about the pretty lynx I was spooned around than any appreciable level of healing. Didn't matter, the imperative demands of my bladder, my stomach and my case required I haul my tenderized carcass out of bed.
Sarah knew me well, she'd stocked the fridge with sausage and bacon and I was finishing off a sandwich containing both of those and a couple of eggs when she emerged from the bedroom. She leaned on the door, her eyes taking in both my breakfast and the files spread over the table.
"Two out of three aint bad, huh, Lover?"
"Sarah.. How are you feeling this morning and what do you mean?"
"I'm probably better than you are and I mean food and the case.. You crawled out of bed before I could take care of the third need."
"Yeah, sorry about that. You know, there's only one thing wrong with these cases and the lawyer we're trying to find, and that is that there's nothing wrong."
"Kelli is Miss SqueakyClean. No reason for her to disappear. Unless I miss my guess, you're finding that as suspicious as I am."
"Yeah. Nobody is that clean, even if they don't know it. We need to start digging on the personal side, my love, because the business has nothing."
"There's always the possibility that some lowlife cat saved her from getting her ass killed and she ran away with him.. I know how that works."
I grinned. "I love you too."
to be continued...
