Page 13 of Tangled Threats on the Nomad Highway
“My family has dealt with the Scarlouccisfor years. They run Philly and control two major ports on the EastCoast. They’re a staple when it comes to negotiating anythingthrough there.” Popova chewed on the inside of his bottom lip.“Uncle Dolph knows them better.” A phone came out of the frontpocket of his pants, and he looked at Einstein. “Okay if I texthim?”
He approved the contact with a nod,surprised when Popova received a near-instantaneous response.Looking up from his phone, Popova scowled. “He said he hadn’t aclue about a brother. If Dolph hasn’t heard anything, and theBastards’ network hasn’t turned up anything, should we evenconsider there’s anything there to pursue?”
“Why did you need to get this to Retro rightaway?” As important as the message was, as a standalone tip, itdidn’t warrant that kind of urgency. “What labeled this red foryou?”
“Keep reading.”
Einstein lifted the paper, not willing tolower his gaze. “Subject two: Lost him in Montana. Understand he’sin Alabama now, so we’re looking there.” He pulled in a slow breathand repeated, “Alabama,” softly as he shook his head. “Subject one:Watch out for those bastards—I’m assuming that should becapitalized?”
“My thoughts too.”
“Subject one: Watch out for those Bastards;they’ve married into the competition.”Katrina Fainburg.“Subject two: Yes, sir.” He turned the paper over, finding theother side blank. “That’s it? The sum total of what you got?”Popova nodded. “Sounds like they know Retro’s old lady is UncleDolph’s daughter. You catch that?” With a grimace, Popova noddedagain. “Yeah, good call to bring it straight here. I’ll get on itnow.” Einstein gestured towards the door. “Anything else toreport?” He knew the phrasing would irritate Popova, making it seemas if he was subservient to Einstein and, by extension, to the BamaBastards. “This is good, Pooka. Good job.”
From the scowl on Popova’s face, Einsteinmight have ground it in a little deep, but he didn’t care. This wasa potential threat to Retro’s family and needed his attentionimmediately.
“Nothing else. Uncle Dolph told me to passon that if he finds out anything more, he’ll be in touch. Eitherthrough me”—being made a messenger boy was clearly an irritant,something Einstein banked for future use—“or directly. We didn’tthink it should wait for daylight.”
“Agreed.” He stared at the words typed onthe paper again. “You get any kind of lead on who this is, we needto know. Without knowing the players, it’s harder to plan foreventualities.”
“I hear ya.” Popova stepped backwards to thedoor, not taking his gaze off Einstein.
He fought a smile at the man’s caution andsense of self-preservation.Been in business in Birmingham foryears and is still alive. Maybe he’s got a right-sized sense ofthings.“Be a stranger.” Rounding the table, he walked throughthe door in front of Popova as if leading him from the room.“Unless you got more for me.”
“I’ll pass your sentiments along,” Popovasaid quietly.
When Einstein glanced over his shoulder, hesaw Popova’s head was on a swivel, moving as if the room werefilled with threats instead of a sleeping prospect at the bar andEinstein. “You do that.” He stopped in the middle of the room andkept his gaze on Popova as the man moved past, noting how he angledhis body to never give Einstein his back. “Healthy fear you gotthere.”
“Keeps me upright.”
The door banged closed, and Alex snorted,picking his head up from where it had been pillowed on hisforearms. “What?”
“Nothin’, prospect. Sleep on.” Covering thedistance to the door, he opened it a crack, just enough to seePopova stepping into the back seat of a dark sedan. Einstein closedit, armed the alarm, and turned back to see Alex staring at him.“I’m going to be in the quiet room for a bit. You’re good to catchsome sleep. I’ll see anything on the cameras.”
“Not going to argue it.” Alex walked to acouch and flopped onto his back, one arm coming up to cover hiseyes. “I’ll take the chance to catch some shut-eye, but I’m gonnabe here if you need me, boss.”
“Good man.” Einstein strode up the shorthallway to the interior room the club had modified for this usage.“Sleep easy. I got this watch, brother.”Alex has a month left;time to start talking about support for his patch.If Einsteinthrew his weight behind the prospect, he knew other members wouldgive the man more serious consideration. With how many membersRetro and Mudd had added over the past year, there’d been lessfocus on the prospect than normal.Gotta fix that for him. Theman’s putting in the effort—the club better match every fuckin’ounce.
Door closed and lock engaged, Einsteinturned to the computer setup along one wall. He used the scanner toquickly transmit the transcript to the device, the processtransforming the image to typed words. He then set the conversationrunning through a database they’d built up through the years,logging thousands of meetings to create enough data for softwarethey’d acquired that performed diction pattern recognition.Clicking various additional prompts started the process ofdistributing the information to key BBMC members, prefaced with hisbrief description of where and how the text was acquired. It wouldsend in a priority order, waiting for recognizable activity on themember’s device before transmitting. That left things lessvulnerable to sniffing and disruption. Most of the members hadbecome adept at managing their online time, utilizing the PlaneMode to keep their devices offline until needed. In any group therewas always one member who would assume the always-on position,ensuring access to everyone.
Once upon a time, Einstein had believed theefforts were overkill.
Not anymore.
Not after seeing what Mudd could dig out ofan idle phone, or what Myron could do. He was the Rebel Wayfarers’head tech guy and a certified genius, the author of severalsoftware packages the BBMC utilized.Including the patternrecognition stuff.Their day-to-day communications were behindan encrypted set of code that the government was still trying tocrack. Myron had told Einstein they’d come close a couple of times,but his built-in alarms had given the necessary warning, giving himtime to modify enough to not only stay ahead of their efforts butto leapfrog them based on what Myron called the “attack vector.”Treating the government as unwanted hackers and bad guys helpedkeep things in perspective, solidifying the us-versus-them mindsetall members needed to survive.
Picking up the landline bolted to the wall,he dialed Marlin’s phone from memory.
“Yeah?” At least Marlin sounded wide awakeand ready for action, leaving Einstein to shake his head.
“Get your text?”
Marlin made a grumbling sound, thengrunted.
“I’m going to get in the wind, come over.We’ll do two-by-two shifts until we know more.” Einstein flicked onanother monitor and clicked over to the camera views from Retro’shouse. “Where are you?” He rotated through several feeds withoutfinding Marlin. “Brother, you’re still at the house, right?”
“Yeah.” A sigh followed by the sound ofwater. “Takin’ a dump. Headed back outside now.”
The door of the small pool house opened, andMarlin stepped into view. “Got you. I’ll be there in a few.”
