Page 12 of Mad Max

Okay, so they want Jimmy to help. But how? He’s in jail. Everyone in the world knows that. Or at least anyone who watched TV four years ago. Not many could avoid getting bombarded by the US having a person on trial for treason. I’m sure Jimmy had that set up, too, ’cause I doubt anyone would have leaked it if they weren’t benefiting from it. And the fact that they televised it brought more eyes on him. The agency he was working for figured out pretty quick that more eyes meant more digging. And more digging would prove more scandal with the agency, so they sentenced him quickly and sent him to prison. I’m sure they would have preferred to just drop him off a cliff or whatever the agency does, but Jimmy was too “famous” by then. He needed to be sent to a prison that the press can go to every now and again when they want to bring up some random topic that involves terrorism and use his face as the focal point.

://Uncle is on vacation//:

:\\send Auntie instead. Order will be sent in advance.\\:

The connection ends a second after a file is sent. I take a breath, pushing out any possibility of emotion before I open it. I watch as the files are downloaded and decrypted before me. Some are videos, some are what appear to be cargo logs, and others are just random names and numbers. I have no idea what I’m looking at, but whoever is running this shop knew one thing about me: puzzles are my weakness. And this? This is one giant-ass puzzle to dive into and see where the parts fit. I’ve got a suspicion that they might fit into the other puzzle I’m working on for my client.

Over the next several hours, I pore over these new files. I’m getting some answers and also guessing and pulling other things together. I did pretty well in school when I took a few courses in theory and cryptoanalysis in college. I can guess with the best of them, and I’m usually right.

From what I can gather, my original theory is correct. There are four separate groups, each focusing on one territory of the US. They seem to have an international partnership, but I keep my focus on the local, since it affects what I get paid to do and this Candy person. The video I received is of a person being taken outside a literal candy shop, ironic unless her name isn't Candy. Which is probably the case, but since I have no other name to go off, I continue to call her that in my head and in the notes I’m taking.

East, West, and North—the names I’ve given the three groups that seem a bit more established. They share about the same information my client has already provided. Obviously, my current information exceeds what I was initially given, but it matches the reason why certain people were referred to me for questioning. Each person who I’ve talked to has been a part of this trafficking, most unknowingly, with one or two knowing a bit more but nothing about the other trafficking areas they were pulled from. Nothing was even hinted at by the client’s people, suggesting more than one large organization. But this new information makes it clear that there are four separate groups.

As for the South, this one seems to be new, though I’m not sure whether they’re new to the operation or just new in ownership. While my client doesn’t have much on them, Store Owner has quite a bit. I have no idea who anyone is, and calling those who reached out “Store Owner” seems like a good way to refer to them in my notes to help me figure all this out.

They probably did their own digging, since Candy was in Texas when she got taken. They even put a star next to their theory on the main base of operation for each group. I actually snorted when I saw that Kansas is considered a possible operational point for the South. While Kansas is middle road, I guess it falls under the South group, as the Store Owner even provides an estimated outline of the four quadrants.

The part I didn’t find funny is the link to names they associated with possible ownership of the South. Uncle Jimmy is on their list. No wonder they’re reaching out. Not sure if I agree with the tactic, though. Does anyone just say, “Oh yeah, I got your girl. You caught me”?

Or… maybe they know he isn’t involved but think he might know who is.

Or maybe he was involved.

There’s no way to know, not unless I ask. Which is probably Store Owner’s goal all along. Do I play into their hand?

As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I shrug it off. If I do, then I do. Emotions won’t help, and worrying or being afraid are just unwanted emotions that make things complicated when they don’t need to be.

It’s only after I decide to visit my uncle in prison that I think about the beast who just got out of it.

I look at my door and find myself smiling. He’s an odd bird, kind of like me, which I like. We had great sex twice, and now I have a new lock.

A girl could do worse.

Chapter 6 – Mad Max

I

’m the first to arrive at Church. Don’t care if I’m thirty minutes early or not. Today I get my colors back, and until I’m officially back in the club, only a few positions at the table are reserved. Everything else is first come, first served, and I ain’t putting my back to the door if I can help it, so I arrive early and secure my seat, close to the table. I’m not an officer and sit on the outskirts of the room, with the wall at my back and a clear view of those in front of me and the door leading out. If shit goes wrong, yes, I’ll be the last one out, but that way I can guarantee everyone else gets out safely. Not because I’m a coward or any shit but ’cause I got the club’s back, even at the back.

No one says shit to me for being early when they arrive. They nod acknowledgments while I just take them in. Only a select few get a chin lift back. Not because I don’t care about the others, but only a few deserve the respect of one. The others know where I stand with them, so no need to do that with extra movements if I can help it.

I ain’t a statue, despite the brothers liking to tease me about it. I find staying still helps me blend in a bit more. Fear can shadow the look a brother gives me if they know shit about me, like a few of them do. They got patched in while I was locked up; they know me by reputation, and they’re happy to have me on their side, but they still keep their distance. I don’t hold a grudge—no use in that. They’re their own people, and nothing I can say will change their thinking. Learned that a long time ago.

“All right, assholes, settle down.” Law bangs his scythe gavel on the table. No one but the two of us knows it was me who made it. I carved it out of an old oak tree that used to sit out back by his old lady’s favorite spot. Special K never shied away from me, and there was a special bond I had with her from the beginning. She was the one who brought me into the club, having found me on the streets after being kicked out of another kitchen job. I suck at doing dishes, but it was the only job that people always seemed to need. I’d just gotten over a growth spurt and was still learning my strength. My stepdad had kicked me out at seventeen as soon as my mom passed from cancer.

Special K took one look at me sitting on the curb and just told me to get in her car. She drove me to the club, and I’ve been here ever since. When she passed away from cancer like my mom, I took to spending time in her spot to just find a sense of peace. Being angry is easy; finding peace is hard. She always tried to help me get my anger out, as I usually held it in and didn’t say shit. Till I wanted to, and then I talked with my fists. But when I sat on her bench, for the first time I didn’t want to hit something. I wanted to make something with my hands. A fallen branch caught my eye, and I just started carving away at it. It turned into something pretty awesome if anyone asked me. But they didn’t. No one expected something that delicate to come from me. So when I gave it to Law, he took it and made it part of Church. It was a way to bring Special K into this sacred place after her passing.

“Point of order. First Bulldog will give us a rundown on the brewery, and then Flint and Casper will share what they found out last night. You’re up, VP.”

Bulldog doesn’t rise—no need to when all eyes move to him after the prez calls his name. “Club’s been talking, as you all know. We’ve done the research and can now produce enough beer locally to move to two more brewery locations. We’re using the other chapters to test locations and have narrowed it down to one in North Carolina, as we all agreed on before, and the second will be in Washington state. Bass, Gator, and our prospect are up there already to train the new recruits willing to join the other new adventures the club’s looking into. They’ve provided blueprints for a building their chapter owns that will outfit the third brewery. Once we have those up and running, I think we can move internationally like we’ve planned.”

“And when we go international, it’ll help provide additional cover for some of the other reasons the club’s been going overseas lately,” Chains, the former VP, chimes in.

The brothers at the table nod, as do I.

I might have been locked away for a bit, but I ain’t mad at the direction the club’s going. The beer business is a guaranteed success, and we won’t be running out of cash flow from that anytime soon. Not sure what Bulldog does to make it taste so damn good, but the guy’s got the smarts and know-how to make it work, and the club offers him the manpower and the backing to do it. And once cash won’t be a question for us, we can focus on the second new avenue the club’s gone into: mercenaries.

Sure, most of the brothers call it “search and rescue,” but I like Flint’s term for it: paid manpower to get the job done. Only difference between us and the others out there is the man in charge. Law—and by proxy Flint, since he came from the intel world—chooses what cases we take and what we don’t. And if anyone fucks with us, we fuck right back. So far, no one has, but we’ve got a plan in place in case they do. We’ve run five ops since the club voted in this new line of work. We bring in more chapters and manpower as needed and seek the best in the entire club for specialties when warranted. We might not use everyone who signs up, but we now have a backlist a mile long for every possible needed expertise and at least two backups for each.

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