Page 90 of Being Lost

“Prez!”

Niran’s voice is in that tone that he needs my attention now.

“Hold that thought,” I direct at Patsy, then turn, my attention on club business now. One look at Niran’s face, and I’m pointing him toward the meeting room. “Church,” I call out.

Dart’s gone home for the night, Kink’s probably tied up, or more accurately, has someone tied, and some of the other brothers have disappeared with the whores, but those who are still here disengage themselves from whatever, or whoever, they were doing, and follow me into church.

Niran is so agitated he doesn’t even sit down. But he stops his pacing, places his hands on the back of the chair and leans forward.

“Where are Reboot and Smoker?” I snap, worried we’re a member down.

“Outside,” he informs us, brushing one of his hands over his short black hair, then, ceasing that action he slams his fist down, “with Shark. Fuckin’ Shark was there. Before he had a chance to recognise Reboot, we managed to take him down. Thought you might want words with him, Prez.”

“Fuckin’ Shark?”

“Shark, you sure, Brother?”

Various loudly voiced expressions of disbelief and exclamations come from all around. As, up to now, there had been no further sightings of him, I think we’d all assumed he’d left town.

Words? Of course I fucking want to talk to him. He was warned what would happen if he ever showed his face in the city again.

Chapter Thirty

Lost

“Where is he now?” I ask Niran sharply.

“Told Smoker and Reboot to take him to the brig.”

The brig, named so far back no one can remember who came up with it now, is our place we take people we want to question. Vegas and Colorado have basements, Tucson their storeroom where Snake met his end, and we’ve converted and soundproofed a portioned off area at the end of our second hangar. I presume it was an old member with a Navy background who gave it the title, but whatever, it stuck.

“Any idea what he was doing there?” Salem asks.

At last, Niran pulls out a chair and sits down. He seems to have calmed a little, enough to explain what went down. “Reboot and I went into the restaurant, got seated. Ordered from the menu. I went to the bathroom to check the place out, but couldn’t tell much, or see anything untoward. Standard down-market restaurant, though have to admit, the food was top notch. I’m pretty certain though, if you asked to see their papers, most of the staff would magically disappear.”

It’s San Diego. Not surprising this close to the border a business employs illegals. They can pay them far less for a start. A Mexican restaurant isn’t going to raise suspicions by being staffed by Hispanics.

“Saw nothing that resembled a trapdoor. Of course, I couldn’t ask to inspect the kitchen or storerooms but kept my ear open. Should have taken someone who understands more than a smattering of Spanish, I suppose, but doubt they’d speak freely in any case.” Niran shakes his head. “If it’s a front, it’s a good cover. Smoker may have gotten more.”

I hadn’t expected Niran to return saying he’d seen drugs passing hands. Drugs coming through tunnels are measured in tens if not hundreds of kilos, and not just an ounce sold by a street dealer. If drugs are coming through, they’ll be moved on. A restaurant does get lots of deliveries, boxes in, boxes out, could be a good way of getting product into the United States.

“They do deliveries?” Grumbler asks.

When Niran nods, Grumbler raises his eyebrow toward me. Hmm, he could be onto something. Those scooters could be carrying something other than food in those insulated boxes.

“Where does Shark come in?” Salem rasps out, his thoughts being on our traitor.

Niran raises his chin. “He doesn’t know me. I heard his name, but he was out bad before my time. Reboot had just been a prospect, but he’d been there.”

Shark had been particularly hard on the prospects; it didn’t surprise me Reboot recognised him fast.

“Shark spot him?” I need to know what damage was done. If Shark had kicked off, the restaurant would be warned, looking for a reason our members were there, without cuts, having a meal.

“Nah. Reboot recognised him, thought fast, then positioned himself so his back was toward the man. I wanted to watch for a while. Easily saw Shark wasn’t a customer, no, he had another reason to be there. He seemed particularly friendly with the man who appeared to be the manager.”

“Pick anything up?” Pennywise asks.

“Couldn’t overhear. Not without making myself obvious. Shark took a pack of cigarettes out and was tossing a lighter in his hand, clearly preparing to go out for a smoke. I left Reboot where he was, told him to settle up when Shark was out of sight. I was worried about him stumbling across Smoker, so I went out the front, walked around the place and managed to find Smoker and warn him.” Niran pauses and looks around. “Lucky I did. Shark came out the back entrance when he lit up, would have walked smack into him. Smoker approached from the shadows and asked him if he could get a cigarette. Shark didn’t take much notice of a homeless man, and Smoker kept his head down. But the fucker wasn’t going to give anyone shit, except, playing the big man, dole out a beatdown on a helpless man. Played right into our hands. As he went after Smoker to teach him a lesson, I hit him over the head. He went down. Reboot joined us by then.” Niran shrugs. “Brought the truck around to the rear of the place, zip-tied him and gagged him with duct tape and brought him here.”

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