Page 8 of Master's Rise
“You’re two out. Six midgets about twenty feet apart at the tree line on the right. The truck is in the field on the left. They didn’t think through their set up.” Hade pulls me back to now.
“Roger,” Falcon answers.
“Jinx and Brinks, take the midgets out. We’re going for the truck.” I get rogers back and we speed up. “Why don’t the Six-Guns have Samoans? Everyone I’ve seen lately is like five-foot-tall.”
“They got an influx of Mexicans pissed about Ice. A lot of family members got locked up even with papers. Samoans aren’t so easily angered. The government stole half our island for a base that isn’t used. That’s how we all got here, refugees from the Polynesian Islands got dropped and the natives helped us. They’d help the Mexicans too but the Mexicans are too stubborn to take it. Just because they have paper doesn’t mean they’re safe. We understood. They dropped us with nothingbutour papers. That paper couldn’t get us home, help or our families back.” Jinx surprises me answering. They lost their grandparents, aunts and uncles. A neighbor took in his father and kept him safe on the reservation. Crow helped the refugees and their father stuck with the Club. The twins are younger than us but were raised the same way. They went to school, Brinks after the military. Both would make good cops. The FBI sent an invite to Jinx, but he wouldn’t go without Brinks. Good Brothers.
“Yeah. They are pissed off midgets. Let’s take the tree line, Falcon.” I veer off-road and run our pathway through the trees. “Yesterday I thought the little one looked like a rabid chihuahua. It fits the angry midget stereotype we're giving them.”
Brinks is laughing even through the gunshots we hear. “One called you Paul Bunyan.”
“Huh, they know their history. We need a new stereotype for them. Uneducated won’t work.”
“You’re passing the truck now, Cort,” Hade says sounding annoyed.
“Rabid chihuahua still fits, Boss. Stubborn to the point of being stupid is, well, stupid,” Jinx says.
“The gunshots and bikes should throw a distraction.” Brinks cuts in.
Falcon agrees. “Here,” I tell him and we cut through to the road coming out just behind the truck. The two are shooting over the bed, completely clueless to us behind them. I’d hide the truck so I’d have a way home. “You’re right, Hade. They didn’t put much thought into their plan.”I shoot hitting the Officer in the upper thigh.
“Rabid chihuahuas work, the midgets are down. They won’t be coming back at us. Don’t hit the truck. They’ll need it for transport to the nearest hospital,” Jinx tells us.
Falcon aims at the second Officer and I hit his hand down. “He’s empty and they need a driver.”
“That’s it? A fucking ride in the woods and that’s it?” Falcon is not happy.
“The other team is clear. That’s it, Falcon. They didn’t bring a brain to their shootout,” Hade says.
I shrug. That’s it. We walk to the pussies and I notice the name. “You’re not Valdez.” I’ve studied our enemies for years. Valdez is an Enforcer that travels between Mexico and Texas. He’s five-nine with a medium build and wanted in three states. This midget is maybe five-four with a slight build.
Falcon’s gun is on him again. He just wants to shoot someone. “Mi padre es muerto,” the midget says. He didn’t use papa which I find odd. They weren’t close.
Falcon points to the back of the truck. “Sit.” The look on his face says he wants Valdez Jr. to act stupid. I just smile, they’re always givingmeshit.
Hade cuts in. “Jinx and Brinks, cleanup is loading. Run the slab for ten and see if they have more waiting. Jump to our paths if you spot anything.”
“Roger, Hade.”
Good call. “Watch our east and west, Hade.” I wish we had slab feeds. I need to get Web on that. He’s got a team of pasty-white albino geeks to do this shit.
“On it, Boss. Cleanup will drop the other chihuahuas. They didn’t have a truck.”
It’s a good thing they’re small. “Roger.”
Cleanup pulls up with a box truck on the side of us. The Brothers drop the moaning midgets into the truck bed and collect all the weapons and ammo stacked on the ground. Valdez Jr. watches looking devastated. They thought they’d have a shot?
I debate speaking Spanish to him, then just go with English. “Your father is dead. This,” I point to the sardine-packed truck bed, “was not a smart move. We’re trained to defend our Club and community. We have military and college-educated men as Enforcers. We fight to keep our part of the world good. We willalwaystake care of those that can’t defend themselves. Don’t bring your fight to us and expect us to allow you to fight us again. We’ve done nothing to you or your Club. Your Club sent men to kill me and mine. Defending myself should be an expected reaction. I’ll remember you, Valdez Jr. The next time we meet, you won’t walk away. I’m sorry about your dad but he lived by that sword too.”
He nods and I see respect in his eyes. “You are right, Cort Masters. I will not cross your path again. This was ordered by Deacon in anger. He did not order his own men to fight today. They are afraid to come to you. My father was not so different from Deacon. Respect to you for defending without malice.” In other words, thanks for not killing us.
“Get out of here.” I walk to my bike knowing cleanup checked through the truck. “Hade, get Jinx and Brinks back. No one is out there. Do we have anyone close in the Club for some intel?”
Falcon holsters his gun and nods. “The last mechanic. He hangs at the Club a couple of nights a week. Someone took his room so he doesn’t stay.”
Hade clicks in. “Priscilla is still there.”
Priscilla is an occasional user. Not good. “Get word to the mechanic. A job and room if he’s done with them. Don’t contact Priscilla, she’s a user that lets shit slip. She could end up getting killed over my curiosity.”
