Compass Call: Survival & Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 3) (30 page)

“No, not the rape. That’s a recoverable offense. I mean murder, and then burning their house down,” asked Tony.

John squinted hard at Tony. He couldn’t believe what he just heard. Did Tony actually need more than a home invasion, rape, beating, and bondage, as evidence that Darrel and Luanne were capable of taking it one step further, of covering their tracks with murder and arson? John snorted and said, “You didn’t see what I saw. You weren’t there, so I don’t expect you to understand why we responded the way we did,” said John.

“You’re right, I wasn’t there. But my point is this, they didn’t commit the more heinous crimes of murder and arson. The very crimes you convicted them of, and then sought justice for. They didn’t deserve to die for their actual offenses,” replied Tony, with an intensely judgmental tone.

“I didn’t kill them,” replied John, calmly. “In fact, I set the woman free. And I don’t appreciate your judgment. You speak to me as if rape is a pardonable offense. I don’t believe it is. It’s a violation worthy of death in the most liberal courts in America. As for the man, I only wounded him. But again, my actions were justified,” said John.

Tony leaned forward, as if ready to attack John’s argument, but John didn’t give him a chance to speak. “I shot Darrell in self-defense . . . he was about to shoot me. My plan was to take both Darrell and his woman to the police. And at the time that seemed like a good idea, but I realized
it would never work. The police were incapable of handling it. In fact, the only cop I saw was at the hospital.”

“What hospital?”

“The new one, near Golden Triangle. Why?” asked John.

“No reason. Just wondered why you didn’t mention it earlier,” said Tony.

“You know what,” said John as he stood, “I think this meeting is over.”

Tony stood in reply and said, “Look, I’m sorry. I meant no offense. I’m just trying to understand your side of the story.”

“My side of the story?” asked John. “Is there another side? Are you speaking for the victim?”

Tony was silent for a moment and John wondered what he was up to, where he was going with his argument. Finally, Tony cleared his throat and said, “Well, in fact word of the attack did reach me from another source. I just wanted . . .”

“What other source?” interrupted John.

“Someone representing the deceased,” replied Tony, flatly.

“You’re kidding, right? I mean, who could possibly be seeking . . .” John let the unfinished question hang in the air.
Was it Luanne? Probably, but how did she get news back to Tony . . . what’s the real connection?
John realized Tony must know someone in the biker gang, or someone in the biker gang knew someone who knew Tony. The later was the more probable explanation for the connection. John wondered if he should pursue a more direct line of questioning with Tony, but quickly suppressed the desire. Besides, there was no point. John wasn’t accountable to him, nor was Tony in a position to enforce anything beyond John’s willingness to freely comply. “You know someone in the biker gang,” finished John.

“Why yes. You can say that I do,” replied Tony.

“What do you want?” asked John, with an edge in his voice. He was tired of Tony and ready to leave. It was time to get to the point.

Tony shrugged and smiled. “I want what you want. I want peace and security. I want to survive,” he said, with his hands in the air in a poor attempt to look humble.

“And the Desperados are going to help you achieve that? They’re going to facilitate your survival?” asked John.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” said Tony. “Would you like a beer? I’ve got some in the cooler.”

“No thanks,” said John.

Tony crushed the empty beer can in the armrest of his chair, and then tossed it into a box at the far side of the garage. “Two points for Tony!” he said, and bent over to open the cooler in front of him. “You sure you don’t want a beer?”

“I don’t drink,” said John.

“Suit yourself,” said Tony. He reached into the cooler and came up with a large caliber revolver. He pointed the magnum straight at John’s face without losing his smile.

John flinched and instinctively reached for his own pistol, but it was secured to his holster with a safety strap and difficult to access from a sitting position. His rifle was also useless, as it was slung across his back. It might as well been home for all the good it did him at the moment. Tony cocked the hammer at John’s flinch and said, “Easy there, John. I would really hate to shoot you, but I will if I have to. Now . . . put your hands on your knees and sit very still,” said Tony. He then turned his head, without taking his eyes off John, and yelled, “OK boys, you can come out now.”

Joel, Tony’s once personal trainer, and newly appointed security officer, entered the garage from the kitchen with his hunting rifle held at port arms. The gangly Randy followed close behind, also holding his hunting rifle at port arms, but with much less confidence. John would have laughed if his situation wasn’t so dire. The two men looked very uncomfortable with the situation, but they were there for Tony. Then, whatever humor John felt over Joel and Randy, quickly vanished when a third man entered the garage from Tony’s house; it was the big guy John had the physical altercation with during yesterday’s neighborhood meeting.

Tony looked pleased at John’s surprise and obvious discomfort, and he said, “John, I’d like you to meet Steve. I can see from your reaction that you recognized him.”

John stared coldly at Tony. He decided he would kill Tony if he ever got the chance, even with his bare hands. He realized how much of a fool he had been for underestimating Tony, and wondered how he was going to get himself out of the mess he walked into.

“Nothing to say, John?” goaded Tony. “You’re not so smug now, are you? Oh, and by the way, Steve is not happy about the way you treated his cousin, Darrel. That’s right. Steve is Darrel’s family, so I’m gonna let him talk to you before we finalize our security arrangement,” finished Tony.

“What security arrangement?” John asked, while he scanned the faces of the men in the garage. John could see Steve was anxious to punch him, but Joel looked very uncomfortable. As for Randy, he looked downright scared, and would probably drop his gun and run if he could. But the real threat for John was Tony. The big magnum remained steadily pointed at his face, and John knew he was too far away to safely disarm him. He also knew that any gunshot, even a graze, could be fatal without medical attention. He knew he had no choice but to comply with Tony, but he was determined to get as much information as he could.

Tony reached into the cooler and grabbed a loop of thin white rope. “Steve, grab his weapons. Joel, give your rifle to Randy and come tie up Mr. Anderson’s hands and feet,” said Tony, as he stood to cover John from a clear angle. John noted that Tony was careful not to allow anyone to come between him and his target, and he eventually moved to stand behind John.

“How do you want me to tie him?” asked Joel.

“Just tie him to the chair, you idiot. And tie him tight. I don’t want him causing any more trouble,” snapped Tony.

Steve removed John’s rifle, pistol belt, and vest, and laid everything on the floor by Tony’s chair. But when he got a closer look at John’s rifle he said, “I think I’ll keep this one,” and bent down to pick it back up.

“I don’t think so,” said Tony. “The deal was for the man only. I captured him, so the weapons are mine.”

Steve looked at him with a sneer and said, “Who do you think’s running this show, Marino? You think it’s you? When Raul hears about these weapons he’s gonna come for ‘em.”

“Are you threatening me, Steve? Because if you are I can end this thing right now,” hissed Tony. “You’re not even a Desperado, so don’t waste your petty threats on me. I’ve got a deal with Raul, and this is part of the deal, so put the rifle down and help tie him up!”

Steve dropped the rifle on John’s vest and walked up to face him. John’s hands were tied to the chair with Tony’s clothesline cord, so all John could do was brace for what he knew was coming. Steve drew back and tried to deliver a straight shot to John’s nose, but John was ready for him, and at the last second he moved his face to the side. The blow glanced off John’s right cheek, cutting it with the friction from Steve’s knuckles. Furious, Steve drew back to deliver another blow, but this time he swung from the side, and with a powerful roundhouse connected with John’s jaw. With no way to avoid the blow. All John could do was clenched and take it. After his head snapped to the side, he dropped it and feigned unconsciousness. All he could do then was hope Steve bought it and left him alone.

Steve rubbed his knuckles and began bouncing around on his toes while chanting, “That’s right, I’m a pro boxer. Yeah! What do you think of that, chicken neck? I knocked your ass out!”

“Knock it off!” yelled Tony. “The only reason you’re even here is to deliver him to Raul. Now go get the van!”

Steve left the garage at a jog. Joel stood up and Tony pushed him aside to check the bonds. “Boss, I don’t like this,” said Randy. “I didn’t buy into this kind of thing. We’ve taken a man hostage and now we’re going to deliver him to a biker gang? That’s messed up.”

“Shut up, Randy,” said Joel.

Randy pointed a finger at Joel and said, “No. You shut up, Joel. I don’t work for you!”

“Both of you calm down,” said Tony. “You’re acting like a couple of school girls. Randy, go in and get the pillowcase.” Randy brushed past
Joel and went into the house. Joel looked at Tony and said, “He’s right though, boss. If this goes wrong we’re in big trouble. We shouldn’t mess with this guy.”

“It’s not going to go wrong,” said Tony. “I’ve met with Raul. Once we hand over John they’ll take over. They only want Paul anyway. John is just their bargaining chip.”

“If they let John live what do you think he’ll do to us?” asked Joel. They both turned to Randy as he entered the garage with a forest-green pillowcase in his hand.

“I thought about that, too. Raul said he’d take care of it,” said Tony.

“You mean kill him?” asked Randy, as he handed the pillowcase to Tony.

“Look, gentlemen, we live in a different world now. John, and people like him, are a threat to our survival. They’ll take control unless we do something about it. Do you want to work for someone like John? Do you want to be under his control because he has guns, and you don’t? Do you want to go begging to him for water every day? I don’t think so,” said Tony, as he looked between the two men. “I’ll tell you, that’s not what I want. So you can walk away, both of you, but I’m seeing this through to the end,” finished Tony. He slipped the magnum into his pocket, pulled the pillowcase over John’s head, and sat down in his chair with a huff.

“What’s in it for us?” asked Randy.

“As I told you . . . a share of the loot,” said Tony.

“But we don’t even know what that is!”

“I’m betting he’s got enough food and supplies to feed us for a year, maybe more,” replied Tony as he wiped sweat from his brow.

“What about his family?” asked Randy, “What are we gonna do with them?”

“They can move into one of the vacant homes around here, or they can leave. I don’t care,” replied Tony with a wave of his hand. He sighed, tilted his head back, and closed his eyes as if bored with the conversation.

“And we’re
not
going to share the food with the rest of the neighborhood?” added Joel.

“Are you dense? We already talked about this. Nobody knows what’s in that house, and if it has what I think it has, then of course we’ll keep it to ourselves. We might hand out a little, to seem fair, but the whole point of this . . . mission, is to put us on top . . . to set us up for survival. And the only way we can do that is to take his house. So, as soon as he’s out of the picture, we’ll move in and make it our new headquarters,” finished Tony.

A dirty white utility van, bearing a Perfect Painter’s logo on the side, pulled slightly past Tony’s driveway, stopped, and then began backing in. At the sound of the annoying back-up beeps, Tony stood and walked to the edge of the garage. With hands on his hips, he watched as Steve slowly backed the van up to the garage. He then raised his hands and signaled Steve to back the van up until it was almost touching the top of the garage door. The roof mounted ladder rack prevented it from being pulled all the way in, but it was close enough to load their hostage without revealing their actions to the neighborhood. Tony smacked the side of the van with his hand, and Steve jumped out and walked to the back to open the van’s doors.

Steve spread a tarp on the floor of the van and turned to face Tony. “He’s still out?” he asked, with a nod of his head and a voice dipped in pride.

Tony walked over to John and snapped the pillowcase off his head. John’s head lulled to one side, so Tony grabbed his hair and lifted. When John didn’t react, Tony released his head and said, “It looks that way to me.”

“What a pussy. I was hoping for a better fight!” said Steve.

“Like the one he gave you when he wasn’t tied to a chair,” quipped Randy.

Steve walked over to Randy and grabbed him by the lapels of his shirt. He drove the skinny man hard against the wall and lifted him
up on his toes while snarling, “You getting smart with me, boy? I’m perfectly fine with thrashing you around the garage before I leave!”

“Let him go, Steve. Randy is just a little unsure about what we’re doing here, but he’s on board. You’re on board . . . aren’t you, Randy?” asked Tony coyly.

Randy stared hatefully at Steve until the man released him, and when his feet were flat on the ground, he brushed past Steve to straighten his shirt. “Whatever you say, Mr. Marino. Just tell this jerk to keep his hands to himself,” answered Randy. He then turned to Steve and said, “You know, there’s lots of ways for guys like me to hurt guys like you!”

“Is that a threat you little . . .”

“Steve. You’ve got your trophy. Now take him and go . . . as we agreed,” snapped Tony.

“Right,” said Steve. He looked at Randy and jabbed him hard in the chest with an extended finger. “You know, sissy punks like you won’t last very long in this new world,” said Steve, and he grabbed the pillow case from Tony’s hands and dropped it back over John’s head.