Page 56 of Mile High With the Bikers
“Scouring it now. It’s a big fucking city, guys, but I’m tapped into the police network and we’re keeping an eye on the highways. I’ll get there, but it could take time.”
Bull crosses his arms over his chest, putting on his game face, but he’s not hiding his worry from me. I know him too well. Fuck, we're both worried. Shrapnel's a brother, and our best friend on top of that. We know he's gonna do his best to keep Rory safe, but we also know he'll do stupid shit if he has to. And Rory… fuck. All this cyber-crime crap made it easy to forget about a good old fashioned kidnapping, but fortunately, that’s more in our wheelhouse. If we can get to her, I don’t give a shit how advanced someone’s tech is. A bullet to the head solves most problems permanently.
“That's great for Snark,” Bear yells. “What about the rest of us? We're here to help.”
I can't even imagine a life without the club anymore. Without the brotherhood. Fuck, without it, I would’ve checked out years ago. The Eagles gave me somewhere to belong when I didn’t think I was worth it, and if we lose Rory, I’m going to be right fucking back there. “We're gonna organize search teams, like we did for Mad Dog and Piston. We'll concentrate on the direction the limo drove, and hopefully Snark will be able to get us better data tonarrow down the search. And when we figure out where they are?—”
My phone dings, followed quickly by a call from Shrapnel.
Everything's fucked. Both still breathing for now. Would love to see you guys.
I answer. “Hello?”
There’s nothing on the other end but muffled shouting. I hand it to Snark. “Fucking do something with that!”
“Five minutes!” He dashes off to his geek cave.
“You heard the man,” Eagle-eye shouts. “Change of plans. We're gonna saddle up ASAP. Dress for violence. Let’s bring ‘em home, boys!”
The excited roar that lifts the roof off the common room gives me hope. Shrapnel and Rory just gotta hold on a little bit longer.
Bull pats me on the shoulder as the crowd clears. “We got this.” It might be as much to reassure himself as it is me, but I nod.
“You're right. We fucking got this. Let's go save some lives.”
“And maybe take some.”
“Fuck, yeah.”
29
RORY
My anklesand wrists are tied together, and they tossed us into a windowless room with a steel door. It’s not exactly overflowing with escape opportunities. It's not a real cell, at least I don't think so, but it might as well be. It’s basically a cement box with a single door and a bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. We're not getting out of here until they let us out.
What's going to happen to us? They need me, and I think they know it. Did Dad try to connect somewhere without me? If they did, he’s screwed. Oh God, what has he gotten us into?
“You okay?” Shrapnel's voice is rough and gravelly.
I manage to shift myself up into a sitting position against one of the walls, though it's awkward with my hands behind me. “Yeah, I think so. I’m going to have some pretty colors if we get out of this, but they weren’t trying to hurt me. How areyou?”
I had to sit and listen to them work him over when we got here. They were trying to make him beg, but he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction, which just made them angrier. I don't think they found the dongle, but I'm not sure. It helps that they shouldn'teven know to look for it, but I don't trust anything anymore. Other than Shrapnel, Bull and Diesel.
He chuckles, which turns into a soft groan. “I'll be fine. Not my first time in a cell, and they haven't even threatened to pull out my fingernails yet.”
I shudder. “Is that a real threat or just a movie thing?”
“Do you really want to know?”
Maybe not. I wet my dry lips. “So, you told me you were in the Army, but how did you end up in the Screaming Eagles?”
“That's a hell of a situation we're in to start talking about that.” He wiggles up against the wall next to me.
“We might not get another chance to talk,” I say softly. “That makes it worth using, right? Humor me.”
He tests his bonds for what seems like the hundredth time since we were tossed in here. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right, but it’s not pretty.”
I shuffle closer to him and lean my head on his shoulder. “Real is better than pretty.”
