Cherry looked at the IMC member in the room and gestured to his eyes, then pointed to the man’s hands. He got a nod in response, so he turned and stalked out of the room.
“Ricky said call, he’s got the goods on this guy.” Salty shook his head. “Man wouldn’t give up even an ounce of what he knows. I like him already.”
“Did you threaten this guy when y’all picked him up?”
“Yeah, but only about a level two threat. Next time I’ll need to up my game.”
Cherry snorted and walked into the nearby room, kicking the door closed behind him. He dialed, and Ricky connected the call before the first ring finished.
“John Kastle. Former FBI, former Navy, former father. That last one is most important. His little girl died a couple years ago, only child, mother gone for around fifteen years. So little is relative in this story, but remember that was his only child. She ODed, a recreational user who didn’t know enough about all the shit that’s flooding into our streets. Cop report said she was seen on the back of an ASMC bike the day before she was found dead. Props to Kastle, he’s done his due diligence, tracked down the member, one who is missing right now, about a week ago. I know because that ASMC member left a voicemail for his president, and Apollo doesn’t delete those as frequently as he should.” Ricky sucked in a hard breath. “Give me two more minutes before you go in and cut him loose. That C4 was stolen from a Navy yard over by New Orleans. If it’s tracked to your compound, that’s a shit ton of scrutiny for you guys. I advise you get it out of there now.”
“Like he’s going to walk. Funny. We took it to a safe location, and we’re disassembling the bike as we speak. I’m not convinced he didn’t have detonators on him somehow.” Cherry huffed out a sigh. “Did he ping the police about the C4?”
“Not that I can find. I just don’t trust him. There’s too much technical training in his background to be comfortable around him.”
“You think the ASMC member is who supplied his little girl with the bad dope?”
“He thinks it was. Doesn’t matter if it’s true or not.”
Cherry looked at the screen, watching Kastle do another of those python breaths to stretch the tape. “Lotta training in this guy.”
“Yeah, makes him a little terrifying. Maybe scarier than you are, Tom.”
“Fuck you, Riccardo. I’m plenty scary. You should fear.”
“Oh, I do. I’m just glad I’m on the phone with you and not Kastle.”
“Fair enough. Anything else you have on him?”
“Nope. John Kastle, FBI and Navy, dad to Sophea. Lives in Chicago, is not connected with the Rebels or anything up there. No idea how he came by the bike or vest.”
“I figure they’re both club-owned, probably lifted from storage somewhere.”
“That would make sense. So that’s all I got. Not a lot.”
“No it fucking isn’t, but it’s more than I had a handful of minutes ago. You find out anything, ping me again, same pattern. I plan on staying busy with our friend for a bit.” He ended the call and shoved the phone back into his pocket, still on silent. “Okay, John,” he spoke to the face on the screen, “let’s see what you know.”
Stepping back into the interrogation room was like walking into a memory. Cherry had spent hours in the room throughout the years. It smelled of burnt coffee and old sweat, and threatened to suck the air out of anyone who overstayed their welcome. John Kastle sat in the metal chair, his broad frame dwarfing it. His eyes flicked between Cherry and the door, back to Cherry, and once the door closed there they stayed.He expected me to bring in backup. Interesting.
“Kastle, interesting to read about your past lives. John Kastle.” The man’s eyes widened for a moment, then he glanced at the bottle of caramel-colored water. “Yeah, you’re right, stage dressing.” He held out his hands, scarred and steady. “You’re more interesting than I thought.”
“Enforcer Cherry, you’ve got good resources.”
“Oh, hell yeah. Did you think just because we’re in the armpit of America we were backwards about security? Sorry to break it to you, but you’re not the only smart guy in the room.” Cherry grinned at the grimace Kastle couldn’t hide. “I’d like to hear your side of things, Kastle. You’re on IMC ground, wearing a stolen ASMC vest, riding a stolen ASMC bike, and carrying enough C4 to turn this compound into a crater. You don’t get to play dumb.”
Kastle’s lips twitched, not quite a smirk but close enough to make Cherry’s jaw clench.
“Dumb’s not my style, Enforcer. You’ve got questions, and I’ve got answers. Problem is, you won’t like any of them.”
“John Kastle. Ex-Navy, ex-FBI, ex-father. You’ve been chasing shadows since your daughter overdosed, and now you’re here, caught with explosives and a rival club’s colors. You’re not just grieving, you’re a one-man wrecking crew. If Apollo isn’t your contact, and isn’t paying your way, then who’s the bankroll behind the mask?”
John’s face didn’t change, but Cherry saw his fingers flex, the tight tape binding his hands out to the sides. “No bankroll, Enforcer. But mark this. Sophea’s name stays out of your mouth, no matter what you think you have to say.” His voice was low and controlled, but there was an edge to it, like it would flay skin upon contact.
There was a sharp rap at the door and it opened, Salty coming in and handing a fat folder to Cherry. A single nod told him all was in hand. He turned and left, the flat metallic sound of the latch engaging ringing through the room.
Cherry didn’t flinch. He pulled a picture from the folder. “C4, in M112 packages.” He tossed the image to the floor in front of Kastle. A picture of the vest with the frayed thread followed. “Stolen colors. You acting like a skunk ape of the swamp.” A blurry shot of Kastle skulking through the bayou, caught by a trail cam. “I’ve got plenty more. And remember, this is where you brought all that boom, this club’s house.Myhouse.Myclub.” He shook his head. “Right now you look exactly like a threat to everything I value. I want to know why.”
“You know about my daughter. I assume you know about Beauden Smith. That’s all I came to Louisiana for. I got him to tell me what happened. He carried responsibility of her death, and he owned up to everything I wanted to know. C4 isn’t even connected to you. I picked that up for a different job, but I bailed on that one to get over here. Soon as I knew his name, knew who he was, I bailed.”
