In the dark, I wheel my bike out of the garage then walk it a block away before I start it up. Oscar will still hear it, but he’s used to my nocturnal wanderings, so he’ll go quickly back to sleep.
The cool night clears my head as I head to the clubhouse. Since I met Selkie, I don’t ride as often as I like to, but it’s a small price to pay for having her and Henri with me and Oscar. When I do get out on the bike, it’s often with my brothers, but I take Selkie out a lot too. I’ve made love to her outside under the endless stars and on my bike. She’s full of passion and adventure. Fearless. But she wants things she’s afraid to ask for because she struggles with the past, with the hurt she’s felt when her trust was violated. Deep down, she knows that I will never betray her just like I know she wouldn’t betray me. She needs time and I’m a patient man. In the meantime, I can read her like a book. I know what she wants and I’ll give it to her no matter how much she protests.
When I get to the clubhouse, I use the keypad to open the gates. The prospects will be here but probably sleeping. We like to keep an eye on things during the day, but at night, the place is Fort Knox thanks to Coyote. I walk to another keypad, well-hidden, and punch in another code to turn off the alarm and disarm the property.
I ride my bike inside and close the gate.
Inside, Hangman is waiting for me. He’s got his hair brushed back in a ponytail and has trimmed his beard and moustache. He’s wearing new jeans, leather loafers and a clean grey henley under his cut. He doesn’t look like the president of an outlaw bike club, but then again, I don’t look like a member. I’m dressed like he is. A normal guy out for a night on the town.
“Ready for this?” he says.
I nod and deftly catch the silencer he tosses to me.
He walks toward the door. “Let’s go then.”
When we’re on the road to Reno I revisit the plan in my head. It could be quick and dirty, or it could get complicated. Complicated means more people die. Either way, it’ll get finished. At the Grand Sierra, Hangman and I split up, parking our bikes in different areas of the parking lot. I tuck my cut into my saddle bag, then stroll to the casino.
Inside, I play a couple of slots, then head up the elevator to the penthouse suite. Hangman is already waiting. We pull out our weapons and screw on the silencers. It won’t completely muffle the noise, but up here, no one will notice.
At the door, Hangman uses a small remote Coyote rigged that triggers an override on the door. The bolt slides back and we gingerly step in. Hangman is loud, aggressive and likes to kick in things, but tonight I can barely hear him breathe.
We’ve decided not to target everyone. Just a couple of Kozlov’s boys. Enough to send a warning to the rest. Hangman nods towards the main suite then heads to another bedroom.
Kozlov’s bedroom door isn’t locked, and the so-called Pakhan is sleeping like a man untroubled by anything. I’m about to change that.
“Kozlov,” I say in a quiet but firm voice as I staddle him, pinning his arms to his sides. I want this clean and quiet and if he gets his hand on the gun I’m sure is hidden beneath his pillow, it’ll attract attention. Then there will be bloodbath.
His eyes pop open and he gasps as he sees me. “What do you want?”
“Selkie says goodbye.”
I pull the trigger.
When we meet outside, I say to Hangman, “How many?”
“Two,” he says. “Kozlov?”
“Dead.”
He nods.
I walk back to my bike, and put on my cut, then join Hangman on the road. We head to a different part of town. In this neighborhood, people live in big mansions behind tall fences with guard houses blocking the entrance. We park our bikes in a parking lot a couple of blocks away. Coyote is waiting for us at a hidden gate in the fence. “Everything’s disarmed,” he says. “The guard at the gate will wake up with a headache, but he’ll live.”
Stark and Zero did some reconnaissance yesterday. Followed Renfrew around. Determined that he’s home for the night, sleeping snug between his satin sheets. His parents are out of town, which is good. I don’t want to kill them, even if they deserve it for raising a prick like Renfrew.
“Thanks,” I say to Coyote as he heads towards a white van where he keeps his surveillance equipment. He throws a wave over his shoulder.
“You good?” Hangman asks.
“Yeah, this won’t take long.”
I walk onto the property, skirting from tree to tree. There aren’t many, but enough to give me cover as I move silently towards the house.
Hangman was supposed to wait by the gate, but I know he’s following me. I can sense him. He wants to have my back in case something unplanned happens. He’s the guy who will stand watch and shoot anyone who tries to stop me.
When I reach the house, I slip around the back. Easier to get in and more cover in the dark. There’s a set of stairs leading to a cellar. I walk down them and peer through a dirty window. The room is empty.
I wrap my cut around the butt of my gun and tap at the window. It breaks easily with a minimum of noise. I stay still and listen for a full five minutes. There’s no movement anywhere, so I climb through the window. I admit I’m not the most graceful guy in the world, but I’m also not a bull in a China shop like Joker or Hangman. Still, I thump down on the floor a little too hard.
