Page 12 of Memories of the Dark

“It’s about this MacAtee bastard, who, as you know, wants to take over the city’s drug market. He is one of the worst Scottish mob bosses, brutal and merciless with those who oppose him, and that’s why I think we should try to take him down. To do this, I need at least an ally I could trust, and I think I found one. This is where your experience intervenes. What do you know about a certain motorcycle club called The Steel Riders?” A frown creased Ardan’s forehead as he waited for the answer.

“You are definitely wiser than me, kid.” Fabian smiled genuinely, relaxing into the chair. “Let me congratulate you on the choice. I myself couldn’t find better a better ally. I know their president by the reputation he built as a member of a special ops division. The man is a fighter, and so are his brothers-in-arms members of the gang.”

“Is that so?” Ardan’s eyes became bright again, the worry completely gone. “In this case, what do you think we should do next? What approach would work better?”

“Rumors are the gang has become the center of MacAtee’s attention, and they are out seeking an alliance with someone who fights the same battle and is strong enough to back them up. If their complex scheme is exposed, that bastard will wipe them off of the face of the Earth.”

“What scheme? It seems you have much more information on these guys than me. I knew you would get me out of the slump. It’s not for the first time.” Ardan smiled again, warming Fabian’s heart.

“Well, there is this very talented twenty-something pharmacist who neutralizes cocaine, extracting most of the opium from it. They found a method to replace the real drugs with the inoffensive stuff, ruining some second-hand dealers’ reputation. At the same time, the pathetic losers were attacked by armed robbers, who left with all the money they could find. Which was a lot, in most cases.”

“Impressive to say the least!” Ardan’s eyes widened in surprise, and he let out a low whistle. “These guys are great at what they’re doing if no one has suspected their involvement so far. One batch of fake cocaine getting into MacAtee’s distribution network would be enough to cast a very long shadow on his reputation. He would need quite some time to recover the credibility he lost, and we could use it to our advantage.”

Fabian smiled, encouraging Ardan to present his strategy, that became clearer in his head as he spoke. A core formed of members of the crew specialized in intercepting transports would be dispatched to the prospective allies’ headquarters to help them get their hands on as much cocaine as possible.

A second team would join the robbers, attacking the locations where MacAtee was collecting the money from the small-time dealers selling his stuff. Ardan was looking for a way of finding out more about the drug lord’s operations, but the classic method of getting someone into the organization posed too many risks, as those loyal to MacAtee didn’t trust strangers.

“Their prospective allies could come with some suggestions, their experience as members of the special ops division coming very handy,” Fabian said, earning himself another of Ardan’s heartwarming smiles. At that point, the two men changed the subject, starting to put together a negotiation schedule.

First, Fabian was going to visit the Steel Riders’ headquarters, a bar owned by one of the gang members, to get to know the president and his helpers better and see what their needs were. Also, he was very interested in meeting the guy who extracted the opium from cocaine and talk to him about the methods he used.

Then, Ardan was going to join Fabian for what both men hoped to be the first and last round of negotiation. Once the agreement between the two parties was signed, the two crews from The Base would be sent to the bar where the Steel Riders hung out to spend some time in the company of their future teammates, getting to know each other better.

“The Steel Riders could also come and spend some time at The Base if they like. In fact, we could use an extra hand or two to guard the place better, especially since many of the security team members will take part to the new mission. What do you think?” Ardan cast Fabian a questioning look, waiting for his reply.

“You’re right, as always. These men will protect the children like they were their own sons and daughters, keeping a close eye on strangers, even of those who look inoffensive because evil comes in many forms, trying, and often succeeding, to deceive us.” Fabian let out a long sigh, his sapphire-blue eyes clouded by a veil of sadness.

“Stop blaming yourself for what happened to Fergus. I did that myself and it got me nowhere. As my beloved Alasdair pointed out, if it was that Greenwood bastard’s doing, none of us could’ve stopped it from happening, no matter how hard we tried. Thank you for keeping him safe and taking care of him all this time.”

Ardan’s words, spoken in his gentle, low voice, doubled by an affectionate look, were a balm to Fabian’s soul. A melancholic smile on his face, he said Fergus had won a special place in his heart, making his protective side resurface from under the pile of resentment and bitterness where his worst enemies disguised as friends buried it.

Fabian took a trip down the memory lane, confessing that, initially, he’d approached Fergus with the intention of using his connections in the political and business world. However, the younger man’s mild, impeccable manners and the vulnerable, somewhat pained look in his turquoise eyes reminded him of his uncle Alastair during the first years of his marriage with the Duke of Sandringham.

At that point, Fabian abruptly stopped, staring blankly into space for a few seconds, tears running down his face. Sensing the older man’s distress, Ardan left his seat and crouched down next to the chair the man sat on, speaking in his soft, gentle voice, slowly pulling him back from the abyss he was falling into.

The Base’s boss changed the subject in an effort to distract Fabian from the not-so-happy thoughts trying to take over his mind and started to talk about his nephew, Nico. The strategy paid off, an amused grin forming on the older man’s face as he told Ardan about the close friendship between Fergus’s son and Rowan, who considered it his duty to inform the kid about his and Lance’s private life.

Dunbar, like the big kid he sometimes was, teamed up with the two kids, throwing a joke here and there or asking for more juicy details, to Fabian’s husband’s despair. The worst thing, according to the older man, whose eyes shone with amusement, was that Helen, Nico’s mother, oblivious to Rowan’s mischievous behaviour, considered him the sweetest kid in the world, indirectly encouraging his behaviour.

All jokes aside, Fabian admitted that Rowan’s inclination for study, his dedication and passion he put into everything he did were positively influencing Nico, who saw the older kid like a brother, someone to look up to. The older man fell silent, smiling at the thought crossing his mind: even if Fergus was missing in physical form, his spirit would live on through Nico, who would carry on his legacy.

However, Fabian had the strange feeling Fergus and his alter ego, Everly, were still among the living, not very far. Maybe the moment when he would come back is closer than we think, he said to himself. Fabian raised his head, locking eyes with Ardan, who nodded imperceptibly, like he could read the other man’s mind.

****

“One week, and he hasn’t given a sign of life! The few minutes a day we talk over the phone don’t count.” Xavier stopped pacing up and down the room, looking at Everly, who sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s like feeding someone a few crumbs of bread a day, only enough to keep them from dying of starvation.”

“You don’t have to explain things to me, I didn’t ask you anything. However, I’ll ask you now: how far from here does Dehaan live? A mile, three, five? Five thousand miles? If you are so worried about him, why don’t you go there and check on him? Isn’t it better than staying here, worrying over him?” Everly stared at Xavier with his strange but beautiful turquoise eyes.

“You don’t know Dehaan. He doesn’t like his space to be invaded, so he won’t be very happy to see me on his doorstep, unannounced. And even if he lets me in, it doesn’t mean I’m welcome there. He will keep me at arm’s length, changing the subject whenever I bring my feelings into the discussion.” Xavier let out a long, frustrated sigh, plopping down on the bed next to Everly.

“Because that is what you do, barge in, invade Dehaan’s privacy, ask him questions, demanding answers. Did it ever occur to you that he feels guilty for worrying you? Fergus and I have witnessed enough moments between the two of you, and although your affection for Dehaan is obvious, your approach may not be the best. Tell me if I am too daring, and I’ll stop.” Everly fell silent, pressing his lips together in a thin line

“Affection? This is the understatement of the century, because what I feel for Dehaan is pure, deep love. Since he’s been gone, I...” Xavier stopped abruptly, looking at Everly, who harbored an unreadable expression. “What did I say wrong?”

“How many times have you told these things to Dehaan, holding him in your arms, running your fingers through his hair and whispering into his ear? I bet you shout your love in his face, like you did a few seconds ago. How many times did you surprise him with flowers or other cute, little presents?” Everly’s words were a bucket on ice on Xavier’s head, cutting deep through his heart.

“Is that what you want from a man who loves you? Flowers, chocolate and plush teddy bears? I didn’t think you were into that kind of thing.”

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