“This is your dock. Pretend that I don’t know anything,” I replied calmly, crossing my arms in a hopeful display of dominance. “Go through it all, from the top. I want to hear it in your words.”
“Why?” He growled.
Thinking fast, I replied: “Because it sounds like you lost control of the fucking situation.”
His eyes narrowed evilly.
He did not like that.
“Help me help you, Talon. Without your cooperation, I don’t know what I can do for you… but with more information, I can spin this the right way. Keep things clean.”
His lips pulled back, exposing his teeth.
Shit. Did I push too hard?
“The crate was due in eight nights ago on a ship bound from China,” Talon hissed his response, lowering down into his chair. “A couple of assholes on the boat dumped the crate a mile out. We’ve got a handful of men out on boats running sonar and trying to find the fucking thing.
“I don’t know who dropped the crate and I don’t know why. I didn’t even know it was your crate until somebody fucking called me. If I had been just fucking told it was your crate up front, I could have had ten guys guarding that shit all the way across the Pacific. This isn’t my fault.”
“I’m not here to blame you. I’m here to find that crate and figure out who’s responsible.”
“I’ve had my Dragons on double-duty stirring up shit in the local underworld. Nobody seems to know a goddamn thing about this fucking container. They don’t know why it was dropped, or who was behind it…”
I recognized that I wasn’t going to get anything else besides vague answers on that angle. Instead, I turned the attention to filling in the gaps elsewhere.
“So, how long exactly is it going to take you to find this crate for us?”
Talon’s eyes narrowed curiously.
“I already told your boss that it might take us a week or two to detect it and bring it back up to the port…”
“Maybe that’s not fast enough for my boss. I need you doubling your efforts, and I don’t care what it costs. That crate needs to be on this dock in the next forty-eight hours,” I said, trying to bullshit a way out of this damn office. I’d taken this little game too far, and the longer I stayed here, the more suspicious Talon seemed to become.
“I thought you might be bringing me something to make the search a little faster,” Talon replied, cocking his head sideways.
“We’re working on that,” I said, flashing him a smile and improvising my fucking heart out. “I wanted to talk to you face-to-face before the package came in later today, feel you out. I needed to meet the man who ran this territory to figure out how to spin this.”
Talon seemed satisfied with that answer, but his facial expression was slowly turning darker. He turned and coughed hard into the elbow of his jacket, taking a moment to catch his breath before he looked back up.
It was time for me to get the hell out of here.
“We’ll be in contact,” I offered up, turning toward the door, but I didn’t make it very far. Talon’s hand grabbed my shoulder, gripping it tightly enough that he stopped me in my tracks.
“I have a little message for your boss,” he said, his voice menacing. “You came here to my docks, and you showed me disrespect.”
“You’re right. My apologies,” I replied hesitantly. “You must have heard how my master can be. I’m only the messenger…”
“Tell Soroka Sarkonov that I don’t care who the fuck she is or how fucking powerful she is. The next time she sends someone to see me, they better show me every fucking ounce of respect I deserve. If they don’t, I’ll help them get to the bottom of the fucking ocean so they can search for her lost cargo personally.”
This did not sound like what Hunter had described. He mentioned that the people who met with Sarkonov’s proxies were the epitome of respect… Talon, apparently, did not play by those rules anymore…
“I should… leave…” I replied as he released my shoulder, taking a few steps towards the door.
“A course that I would recommend,” Talon agreed, a glint of sharp anger in his voice, “lest you desire a slow and agonizing demise at sea…”
I noticed that the door was opening. Both bikers stepped aside, glaring down at me as I passed quietly between them towards the elevator. To my surprise, the button had already been pushed for me.
“I don’t believe I ever gathered your name.”
My eyes fearfully turned back to Talon, who was gazing upon me from his desk with dangerous curiosity. I didn’t know what to do, but I suspected that he would know if I tried to lie…
“Sarah.”
“You’re not welcome here again. Tell Soroka she needs to send another of her proxies if she wants to talk to me. Enter my port again,” Talon roared loudly, “and it will be the last thing you ever do.”
I gulped in the instant.
“Are we clear?” He snarled.
Reluctantly, I nodded. “Crystal.”
“Good,” Talon growled lowly. “See to it that you maintain that understanding.”
Fifteen minutes later, I climbed off the back of another Los Angeles Dragon’s motorcycle. Just like the first time, there wasn’t another word spoken before he sped off, back to heel at his master.
I walked towards the entrance, trying to keep my head clear. It swam with heavy thoughts and the aftermath of what had just happened.
Dealing with Talon had been a perilous experience. I felt like my life was dangling in the balance with every sentence. Try as I might, I couldn’t remember the last time someone had rattled me so much.
Hunter hadn’t exaggerated when he explained the danger in approaching that man, nor when he related how bad an idea it was to have chased this case here.
I didn’t doubt that Talon would willingly, happily have had me slain on the spot, or dragged out to sea to be shoved into the ocean…
But I had more information for my client now… The crate was off-shore, and as far as my police training could tell me, Talon was telling me the truth about that... On the other hand, I got a real sense that he wasn’t telling me the whole story.
For instance, I was pretty sure that crate didn’t get pushed off the ship without Talon having a hand in making that happen…
It was something to go on, at least.
If the Lost Angeles Devil’s Dragons were involved, my client would want to know… But now that Talon had confirmed the existence of Soroka Sarkonov, I was starting to wonder about just who exactly my client really was.
Could they be one and the same?
And if Soroka had hired me to investigate the Devil’s Dragons, what would happen if I didn’t come back with the information she needed?
Who was I really dealing with?
Passing beyond the fences, I climbed into my car, twisting the ignition. It only occurred to me then how stressed and apprehensive I had been during the entire debacle. My hands were quietly shaking as I rested them on the steering wheel.
There was only one thing that I could do to quickly vent out my sudden bout of crippling aftermath anxiety. I needed to let something out, and fast.
I let loose a barrage of screams, shifted the car into drive, and got the hell out of t
here.
Hunter
As I ascended my metal steed after the meeting with Talon, I realized that I had a missed voicemail from Grizz. It would appear that he had woken up during my little meeting. His tone was displeased at my slinking away, but he was still committed to serving me.
“Found a spot for us to stay while we’re in town. Picked up the keys, sent the others off to get some cots and I’m getting it settled now. Texting you the address.”
Well, at least that’s going well…
Leave it to my reliable right-hand man to get shit done while I’m gone. Having a makeshift clubhouse here in LA would beat the hell out of shacking up in motels for a week.
I dialed Sarah’s phone.
When she didn’t pick up the third time, I left her a voicemail telling her that we were in town and to reach out to me when she was finished doing… whatever she was doing.
Grizz’s text sent me only about half an hour away, to an abandoned Chinese restaurant along a quiet and slow Los Angeles backstreet.
The irony wasn’t lost on me.
A pack of Dragons, holing up in a Chinese place…
I wasn’t so sure that I could utilize a dilapidated restaurant as a new headquarters, but it worked surprisingly well. The place looked ancient, but there was room for bikes along the alley to the side, the windows were all boarded up, and the turf looked clean enough.
By the time I’d arrived, the men had swept and set up some cots in the main area. Most of the chairs and tables had been sold off, but the booths and tables along the edges were still there.
A quick glance in the kitchen showed that the equipment was still sitting there, meaning that we could at least fry up food for ourselves if we could get the gas turned on. There was even a small table and chairs by a wall nearby.
Grizz had outdone himself.
I started dragging a pair of cots towards the side room in the back, hoping to put together a nest for when I got back in touch with Sarah. Call me an optimist.
“No need,” Skid told me, one of my younger bikers. “We’ve already set up something for you and your woman, assuming…”