sun eventually came up, and just like clockwork, a fleet of motorcycles pulled up right before eight o'clock. I heard Axl's voice in my headset. "Go," he said. I hit the red record button with my thumb, and the camera started. I framed the scene with the viewfinder and waited as the bikes came to a stop.
I recognized Vargas by his sheer size as he dismounted his bike and approached Axl. I zoomed in on the two of them.
"Archer," came Vargas's voice over the mic. "This'd better be fucking good." Then he added, "The hell happened to you?"
"That's why I'm here," said Axl, pointing to his face. "The Sons did this to me."
Vargas snickered. "Nice club you got," he said.
"Just two of 'em," Axl replied. "And one of 'em is Lynch."
Vargas's face reddened visibly in the camera's viewfinder. "That sonofabitch's killed a dozen of my guys."
"I know. You want him dead."
"Goddamn right I do."
"Then we have a mutual interest."
"What're you sayin'?" asked Vargas, his eyes narrowing.
"I'll lead him into your arms. Lynch'll be all yours," said Axl, "But the other one who'll be with him, you gotta turn over to me. It's personal."
"Why the hell would I trust you?" said Vargas. He stepped closer to Axl, but Axl didn't back down. "I've killed so many of the fuckin' dogs in your club. I think you're settin' me up," he growled.
"Stop the tape and come out," said Axl. I heard Vargas bark in surprise as I switched the camera off and came out around the building.
The half-dozen Reapers saw me instantly, with the camera on my shoulder.
"Guess you gotta trust me now, motherfucker," came Axl's voice through my headset. "Just got your murder confession on tape."
One of the men standing behind Vargas darted out around him, heading straight for me. But Axl turned and plowed his balled-up fist straight into the guy's temple, and he went down hard.
"Know what a cloud upload is?" said Axl. "Try that shit one more time, and the video goes straight to the Feds."
I cringed. That was a bluff. The camera was totally not hooked up to the Internet. I couldn't even send a damn text out here. But it was apparently a good enough bluff for an old crony like Vargas.
"Alright, alright," growled Vargas, motioning for his men to stand down. "We do this your way. But when it's over, that video is gone. You rat on me," he said, holding his fist out toward Axl, "You and your old camera lady there ain't never gonna be safe."
"Agreed. You help me round up Lynch and Dash, I scrub the video. You'll have the upper hand in the war against the Sons, and you'll never hear from me again."
Axl held out his hand to shake, but Vargas just stepped back and spit in the dirt. "I better not," he said.
Axl shrugged and put his arm back down at his side. "Tomorrow, one p.m.," he said. "Be at Exit 74. Bring traffic spikes. And for fuck's sake, wait for the first bike to pass before you throw 'em down," he said, "Cause that'll be me."
39
Axl
I slept in Holly's bed at the NOMAD compound that night, and woke up the next morning fired up.
The golden morning sun streamed in through the cracks in the blinds, illuminating Holly's skin. It was so precious, so delicate, almost translucent in the light. I ran a hand down her neck, over her breasts, feeling her soft nipples under her tank top as she slept. Then I slid my hand down to her belly, and held it gently. That was my future kid in there, and no way was I gonna let my future kid grow up without two parents. No way was I gonna let him or her end up like a lost, wandering feral kid like me.
Holly stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She looked up at me and smiled wistfully. "You ready for this, babe?" She asked.
"Never been more ready," I said. Confidence and determination surged through my body.
"We're outta here when it's done, right?"
"We're outta here," I send, bending down to kiss her on the forehead. "You stay put here where you're safe. I'll be back before you know it." I squeezed her hand and got out of bed.
It was fucking go time.
The key to all this was that today was the Sons' monthly arms pickup with the Russians. It always happened in the same place—a valley about a mile and a half off Exit 74.
Lynch and Dash would be